Domino Effect {tag; Dez}

[Martine Liten]

The size of the party was pretty ridiculous.  Sebastian stood at the far end of the room in a rather heated debate with an older girl about the fundamentals of politics.  No, the most important part of a campaign was not health care or global warming.  Those were footnotes to more important issues, like the war and keeping the nation whole despite the inner feuding.  He was so absolutely tired of people who spent their free time berating America for their lack of free health care and their inability to go green.  Health care was certainly a wonderful perk, but if you were really in need of assistance, you could go to the emergency room.  The doctors in the ER would surely be annoyed, but they would never turn anyone away.  Didn’t these people know the first thing about how hospitals were set up?  About the oath those people took to never turn away from a patient?

It was irritating, to say the least.

What was more irritating was the fact that the damn woman wouldn’t shut up for five seconds and actually use her miniscule brain.  It was like talking to a brick wall with too much makeup.  Before he knew it, he was insulting her lack of adequate mind capabilities and reducing her to tears.

She got what she deserved.  If she couldn’t handle it, she shouldn’t have opened her fat trap to begin with.  It was all very simple, really.

Once that was over and done with, he mingled with a few friends and told them the story of the idiot girl, who was apparently named Ashley.  He left out the minor detail about insulting her; they more than likely wouldn’t have found that as funny as Sebastian did, which was a shame, but he wasn’t going to tempt fate.

Seeing his friend Cara enter the home was like a jumpstart for him.  He greeted her with a smile and let her wrap him in a hug which he returned, albeit awkwardly, before catching a dance with her.  He had a sneaking suspicion that she had a “thing” for him, but he ignored it for lack of a better solution.  She didn’t seem to mind, so really, was he doing anything wrong?  It wasn’t as if she had actually said anything, right?

The hours slipped away, one after the other without so much as a good bye.  The crowd began to thin, bodies flooding out of the door, and Sebastian realized that he should probably leave as well.  Once his friends were gone, there was really no point anymore.  The first step to leaving, though, was to find his brother.  Desiré knew most of these people, so the challenge was figuring out just who he was hanging out with.

It didn’t take too terribly long before he heard his brother’s laughter against several others.  He was soon standing beside him; arms crossed over his chest and face impassive as he waited for the group to finish their conversation.  This was particularly considerate of him since his more recent habit was to just butt in.

When the words finally subsided and Desiré turned his attention onto his brother, Sebastian looked towards the door meaningfully.  “Can we go now?”

They left then, heading down the stairs of the old house and into the grass towards their car.  The dirt road was long and uneven, hard to navigate through in the dark, but somehow Sebastian really just wanted to drive.  He doubted his protective older brother would let him, but it was always worth a try.

As they walked side by side, Sebastian hazarded a look at Desiré.  “Hey Dez, can I drive?”

It was just an argument waiting to happen and Sebastian should have known that.

[Desiré Alys]

Even after a few hours of horsing around with his friends, some who'd already graduated and some who hadn't, Sebastian really should have known better than to ask to drive with all of the crazies out.  Normally, Desiré wouldn't have cared all that much if Sebastian wanted to drive, since his brother had his license, and he could be trusted not to smash the car up like an idiot.  It was dark, a dirt road, and there were people all over the place who'd been drinking, some of them driving.  Desiré himself had done some drinking hours earlier, but he wasn't stupid and his 'protective older brother' streak was showing.  There was no way he'd drive with Sebastian in the car if he'd been drinking.  He didn't trust the people around them either, though.

"We have to take Uncle Dirk to the store to get his old man magazines, so why don't you drive then?  We have to follow Chris out of here, and I know he's been drinking too much to remember not to speed as much as he usually does," he explained, offering up a solution at the same time.  Usually, that was the best way to deal with any issue.  Offer a solution.  Sebastian was a strange case, though.  He wasn't likely to agree easily.

"Come on, you know what Chris is like.  Can't get him to follow the rules of the road when he hasn't had anything to drink.  I still don't see how he got his license."

[Martine Liten]

Sebastian huffed, just barely avoiding a pout along with it.  Thankfully, he had grown out of the pouting several years ago.  Instead, to replace it, he had gotten a sharper tongue.  Fair trade, right?  Certainly.

"Chris is an idiot.  Everyone knows that.  And so are the morons running the DMV; that dumbass should have never had his license to begin with."  Most of this was said in a rather matter of fact tone of voice, but some of the words had a point on the tip.  He was insulting Chris.  But then, he didn't like the guy--who did Sebastian like?

"But I don't see why this has anything to do with me.  Sure he can't drive, but I've driven in the city before.  People can't drive there either."  Surprisingly, his voice had yet to raise.  That wasn't promise for the future, though.  Sebastian's eyes slid up to his brother's face as they approached the car, glaring accusingly.  "Or don't you think I'm capable?"

There was something inside of Sebastian that was always on the defensive; always believing that everyone hated him and thought that he was terrible.  That he couldn't do anything right.  It was a mixture of the things that people had said to him as well as the actions of, say, Uncle Dirk.  He honestly believed, or was afraid, that everyone believed he was weak and defenseless.  Of course, because he never shared those thoughts, no one had ever told him otherwise.

Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he raised his shoulders with silent anger and let his nostrils flare out when he let out a quick breath of air.  He knew knew knew that Desiré wasn't going to give up on this and deep down, he knew he shouldn't argue.  He couldn't let his pride go enough to just accept it, though.  So, instead, he made his way around the car and climbed in the passenger's seat, kicking his feet up on the dashboard and staring out of the window.

He was in.  So there.

[Desiré Alys]

Well.  Desiré couldn't argue with Sebastian about Chris, even if he DID think the guy wasn't as bad as his brother seemed to think.  He wasn't GOING to argue, either.  That wasn't the point.  The point was that Desiré wasn't going to have Sebastian driving with a bunch of drunks running around.  Period.

"Sebastian, of course I think you're capable.  I just know Chris and the kind of shit he pulls, so I'd prefer to drive," he offered instead, finally sighing in relief when Sebastian got in on the passenger side.  As far as he was concerned, discussion over.  He wasn't going to say another thing on the subject.

Really, he didn't know why it always came down to whether or not Sebastian was 'capable', since that was never on Desiré's mind.  Sebastian seemed to think it was important, though.  Naturally, it didn't occur to him that his little brother might have a really low self-esteem, since he didn't see a reason why.  Sebastian was smart as hell, and had a razor-sharp wit.  Desiré was a little slower on the uptake.

He had the car started up, and was following Chris' car without another word, and sure enough, the guy was going WAY too fast on the dirt road.  Desiré muttered a short little curse as he upped his own speed to avoid being left in a literal cloud of dust, but he felt better knowing that it wasn't his brother trying to keep up with the guy.

They were going way too fast.  Really, they were.  This was absolutely ridiculous, and he was going to have to bring it up to Chris later.  If he didn't think he guy would either freak or not hear it, he'd have called his cell to tell him to slow the hell down.  "I am going to kick the shit out of Chris later.  Look at the way he's driving!"

[Martine Liten]

But Desiré was the Golden Boy, so of course he couldn't understand why Sebastian would have a low self-esteem.  Not with the confidence he had--how could he possibly sympathize?  Not that this was honestly a thought rolling through Sebastian, but he had thought it in the past.  He had even told Desiré that he was the favorite and that their mother and father and even Uncle Dirk thought that he could do no wrong.  Even when he would take the blame for something that both he and Sebastian did, they were never really hard on him.  But when it was Sebastian, it turned into another, "Oh God.  What did we do to create such a terrible kid?"  At least, that was what it seemed like when their mother would sigh and speak in that incredibly reasonable tone of hers, exasperated and tired from just looking at Sebastian.

He wasn't entirely wrong.  It wasn't just his imagination that made it all seem this way.  Their mother had really just stopped trying to show her youngest son affection because every time that she tried, he pushed her away.  She wanted to, in actuality, because once upon a time he used let her.  He was always less openly affectionate than most children, but it was once not uncommon for him to just fall into a hug that he desperately needed.  Now she was lucky if she could even pat him on the shoulder.  So naturally she couldn't help but sigh when Sebastian would get himself into more trouble, because it seemed like all he ever did was get into trouble.  Even her friends worried about him, and hell, he had even gotten into fights with several of her friends.  She knew that they didn't like him, although they'd never say it, and that they thought he was going to grow into something horrible.

Even though Sebastian wasn't aware of it, she worried a lot and wanted nothing short of the best for him.  She wanted him to be happy.

No one ever told him, though.  He never heard it.  He hadn't heard them say that they were proud of him in such a long time, or that he wasn't doomed to be a failure.  He knew that it was his fault, really he did, but it seemed like nothing he could do would fix it.  It was terrible how badly he wanted to hear those words, but since he would never ask for it, it was never said.

As he stared out of the window watching the trees roll by, he couldn't help but wonder when everything had gone downhill.  He almost asked Desiré, opening his mouth to speak, but he quickly thought better of the idea.  Instead he twisted in his seat and flicked on the radio, tossing his feet down off of the dashboard and sighing lightly.

Dammit.

And then Desiré spoke, mentioning Chris and his damn driving.  He shot a glare to Desiré, a rather unyielding look that spoke great volumes about the massive amounts of annoyance and pain and frustration that he was feeling.  That he was always feeling.  And hearing Desiré's voice just was not helping.

"Oh yes, he's a terrific driver, isn't he?  Just look at the way he drives in a wiggly line!  Amazing!"  There was so much acid in his voice.  He was just so angry.  "I don't know how he manages!  It's as if he was a pro or something.  To the left, to the right; you think there's no method to the madness, but there is!  Chris knows what he's doing!"  His voice lowered, "Why'd you pick him to follow anyway, Desiré?  Weren't there less incapacitated people roaming around?"

In there somewhere, there was a thinly veiled insult directed at Desiré.  He had horrible taste in friends.  None of them were worthwhile people.  It made Desiré look bad.

[Desiré Alys]

Without even thinking, Desiré shot a look at his younger brother, a little shocked at the vehemence of his response.  He could have expected Sebastian to be a little bent about not driving, but he had no way of predicting his brother's thought processes.  He had no idea that Sebastian's thoughts had taken a rotten turn, nor did he have a clue just how much the boy thought everyone hated him.  He really didn't think that anyone liked him all that much more than Sebastian, especially since Sebastian really DID get better grades, and really WAS much quicker in the wit department.  Desiré was pretty smart, but Sebastian was a force all his own.

A force that pretty much hated anyone Desiré liked, including Chris.  That much had been suggested before, but Sebastian had basically just smacked him in the face with the fact that he hated his friends.  "What?  He wasn't this bad when I talked to him about it!" he said, that being his only real explanation.  He liked Chris.  The guy was funny as hell, and they'd played football together. 

He seemed to realize rather suddenly that he just could NOT afford to give Sebastian as much attention as he'd like to, even if it was only a few seconds, but his eyes returned to the road to find Chris slamming on the breaks in front of them. 

"Shit!"

Desiré definitely didn't want to back-end Chris, even if he was pretty sure the beat-up old Chevy he was driving could take the collision, so he naturally swerved in an attempt to miss his friend's car.  He also slammed on the breaks, but he wasn't getting anymore traction than Chris had in his skidding.  They ended up sailing off the road, everything moving way too fast for a real reaction other than a horrified look on the older boy's face as he realized they were headed straight for a massive tree.  With the amount of space they had on each side of it, he figured in an instant that there'd be more room on Sebastian's side to avoid it, but if they didn't, Sebastian would get crushed. 

So, he jerked the wheel once more, hoping that trying to miss the tree on HIS side would work out better.  Sebastian wouldn't get hit head on.

[Martine Liten]

Sebastian knew his brother wasn't stupid, but he almost insulted his intelligence when Desiré mentioned how Chris hadn't seen that bad off earlier.  He did stop himself, if only because his mind was already ten steps ahead of his mouth and he wasn't angry enough to impulsively shout it, not yet.  He still had his head on his shoulders despite the massive amount of negativity coursing through him.  One person should never have to feel so much.

But when Desiré focused on him, he missed the fact that Chris had come to an abrupt halt, breaks screeching and car rolling over the uneven dirt.  Sebastian's hand instantly grabbed the door and clutched it as tightly as he could, a short yell bubbling from the back of his throat.

He wasn't wearing his seatbelt.  That was all he could think.  They were going to die.

Sebastian didn't remember what happened next.  All he knew was that when he opened his eyes, blood appeared in his vision, dripping from a cut on his forehead.  The entire right side of his body ached, bruised and damaged.  It stung.  He groaned, pushing his face off of the airbag and bringing a shaking left hand to his face.  His right one couldn't move.  His fingers brushed the blood, smearing it against his skin in red comet streaks.

"Desiré," he said quietly, voice harsh with pain as he reached out to his brother.  "Desiré, are you okay?"  Of course he wasn't okay, but that wasn't what he was asking.  He was asking something much more important, but something he couldn't get himself to ask.  Are you alive?

The gravity of the situation suddenly struck him, and just as suddenly, he went numb with panic.  He immediately was fishing in his pockets for his cell phone, hoping that it wasn't crushed.  He had to call an ambulance!  He had to do something!  It didn't matter at that moment that his right arm was broken and that he probably bruised all sorts of internal organs.  Wounds would heal.  No, no, the important thing was making sure that they did.  Get someone there.  Get to safety.

But his phone was in his right pocket, and just like that, his face lost all color.  His cell phone was cracked in half.

It didn't matter though, because somehow, someway, he heard the distant sounds of an ambulance's cry.  The siren was such an amazing noise, calling out to them as it was.  Don't worry, it seemed to say.  Help is coming.  He leaned back in his seat, watching as the red lights drew closer.

"The ambulance is coming," he muttered, whether for his brother's benefit or his own was uncertain, but he seemed to be relieved by it, if only for a moment.

[Desiré Alys]

Sebastian wasn't wearing his seatbelt.  That hadn't even occurred to him, though he'd put his own on immediately upon getting in the car.  It was habit, and he hadn't thought about the fact that Sebastian's feet had been up on the dashboard just a few moments before, and just how horrible that would have been.  Desiré had time to realize that he wasn't going to miss the tree, and that hitting it head on would have been smarter.  Instead, it impacted the side of the car and the vehicle kept moving, smashing into the tree all along the driver's side from its momentum.  It crumpled where it met the door, not having an engine to hold off the the abuse, and poor Desiré happened to be less durable than the engine of the old Chevy.

He passed out.  He must have, because the next thing he knew after his whole world exploded was Sebastian's voice, saying his name.  He didn't even move, not sure if he could, and somewhere in his foggy mind, he wondered what that sound was.

Drip, drip, drip...

What was it?  It was so annoying!  WHY didn't someone make it stop?

That was when he moved, tilting his head in the direction of the sound, downward, and it took him almost a full minute to realize what he was looking at.  There was so much metal, and glass, so that he had actually had his head resting against a...tree.  He tilted his head up again almost curiously at the tree, with its abused back and the dark spot on its trunk, but that wasn't what confused him.  It was what was down.  It was like everything below the window was covered in that same dark stuff that was on the tree, and it was all over him.  Forgetting that the seatbelt was holding him as close to the door and the tree as he was, he tried to move.

BAD IDEA. 

He was probably bruised on his right side from the seatbelt itself, which had essentially saved Sebastian from getting crushed by the force of his brother's body, but Desiré's left side was just on fire.  The instant he moved at all, even as little as he did, that was all he felt.  He screamed, not really meaning to, but it took him so completely off-guard that he couldn't help himself.  He'd gone from fuzzy and confused to absolute agony in an instant, and even as he froze and the initial fire faded some, the pain was there and his mind was aware of it, so it wasn't going away.  Somehow, he noticed the cold sweat that started up with the understanding that this whole situation was BAD, and he thought again of Sebastian.  He hadn't really heard what he'd said.

Oh God, was Sebastian alright?

"S-Sabby," he tried, letting his head rest against whatever was closest again.  There were red lights nearby, in the edges of his vision.  Were they supposed to be there?  "How b-bad are you?"

[Martine Liten]

Sebastian was staring out of the cracked windshield, watching the red lights get closer and closer and closer.  He knew Desiré was bad off, that was why he had wanted to call the ambulance in the first place.  It wasn't for him, but for his brother who was smashed against a tree.  He didn't want Desiré to suffer anymore than he had to, and that had included wasting away here.  Sebastian could have easily gotten out of the car and made a break for it.

He wouldn't leave Desiré though, never.  He was hard on him, and specifically went out of his way to make his life difficult, but Sebastian never would wish him dead.  They were brothers.  Sebastian really did love Desiré a lot.

He heard Desiré speak finally and released a breath that he hadn't realized he was holding.  At least, if nothing else, they were both alive.  He was instantly facing Desiré, to the best of his ability, and grabbed his hand with his functioning one.  The action was gentle, just in case Desiré's hand was hurt as well.  "I'm losing feeling in my right side," he answered wryly, laughing at the terrible situation.  There were sad undertones mingling in his voice.  "But I'll live.  The ambulance is coming.  They'll take care of you."

You, not me.  I'll be fine.

The sirens were suddenly on top of them, red lights flashing through the shattered glass and lighting up the inside of the broken car.  Sebastian let his eyes slip from his brother's face to the faces of the men opening his door as they spoke to one another in clear, loud voices.  Despite all of that, Sebastian couldn't understand them.  Everything was garbled.  It was then that he realized just how exhausted he was.

His eyes felt heavy and his head was swimming.  Everything hurt, inside and out.  Blood was running down the side of his face; guilt was swelling inside of his chest.  And for a brief second, Sebastian wished he would die.

It was his fault.  This whole thing was his fault.  He had distracted Desiré.  He had been selfish.  He was always so selfish!  Why.  Why was he such a terrible person?  Why, why, why?  He should have just kept his mouth shut and thought of other people for once.  Thought of Desiré for once.  He should have thought.

He felt himself being hoisted up and he unconsciously wrapped his hand tighter around Desiré.  No, no don't take me from him.  Everything was so distant.  He couldn't see.  He couldn't remember.  These were the good guys.  They were rescuing them.  Heroes.  Something he would never be.

His fingers withdrew from his brother's hand, no longer able to hold on.  They were crawling into the wreckage to get Desiré out.  But everything was hazy and looked as though it was from a dream, and as Sebastian was placed into the ambulance, he could see them moving Desiré, successfully freeing him from the disaster.

"Everything's gonna be alright, kid.  We're taking you to the hospital," he thought he heard someone say.

Everything would be fine.

And Sebastian let his eyes close--his world went black.

[Desiré Alys]

As much as Sebastian's thoughts seemed to be flying all over the place, Desiré's were pretty well-centered in the here and now.  Sebastian had answered, not with great news, but he'd managed to laugh, and even an ironic sort of laugh was better than nothing.  He managed an "Okay", for once not pushing for information or details, and squeezed his brother's hand.  That was a good sign, that his right side was at least alright enough for that.  It didn't hurt nearly as much, either.  True, it did still hurt some, but it was nothing in comparison.

Ah, the red lights.  They were getting brighter, and hopefully, they'd help drown out the dripping sounds he could still hear.  He'd finally realized what that was, and he didn't want to hear it anymore.  He didn't want to think about it. 

Suddenly, there were people, and it made him wonder if he'd slipped off again, only to have woken up when they started jolting him around.  Fortunately for his own dignity, he didn't even have the ability to yell anymore, mostly due to the way his consciousness still wanted to slip away, and so it was his breathing that was affected as they pulled him out of there.  It hurt a thousand times worse than it had that first time he'd moved, but at least he knew it was coming.  Where was Sebastian?

Where was he?  Sebastian!

Had he said it out loud?  Really, he didn't have the slightest clue.  All he knew was that there were voices somewhere in the fog around him, everything hurt, and he had the vague sense of movement.  He didn't know where Sebastian was, and that was a problem, but his mind couldn't even dredge up enough to find him.  He just needed to stop...

...worrying.

Everything was gonna be alright.

[Martine Liten]

Sebastian's eyes opened again, and not for the first time, he wondered what had happened while he was unconscious.  And how long he had been out for.

It took a moment for his vision to clear and adjust to the bright lighting in the room.  Everything was white; sterile.  He hissed softly and made a move to bring a hand to his eyes.  His first instinct went to his dominant hand, his right, but when a sharp pain crawled up his arm, he yelped and attempted to move his fingers.  That didn't work as well as he had hoped.

A sudden movement outside of the room caught his attention as an attractive blonde woman walked in.  She was staring at a clipboard, tapping a pen in what appeared to be a nervous habit that she must have done while thinking.  With a hum of acknowledgment to Sebastian, she began adjusting his wires that he had managed to pull on while attempting to move.  She even had the audacity to click her tongue in reprimand, as if he should have known better.  Something about her though, was just completely motherly.

"I'm Ashley Webb and I'll be taking care of you here.  Your doctor is Dr. Smith, but he's roaming around somewhere, so you won't have to worry about him too much.  What's your name?"

"Sebastian," he answered slowly, "Alys."

"Alright, so Sebastian, do you know why you're here?"

He narrowed his eyes in that indignant way of his.  "Of course I do.  I was in an accident.  Where's my brother?"

"No need for the attitude.  I'm just making sure."  She flipped through her papers.  "You're suffering mild internal bruising and you've broken your right arm--"

"--Thus the cast," he inserted snidely as he sent a glance at his bandaged arm.

"And you might notice a few issues walking on your right leg.  It's not broken, only bruised.  Just be careful on it and take some painkillers.  Nothing extreme.  You're really lucky that it wasn't a lot worse.  You weren't wearing your seatbelt."

Sebastian knew he shouldn't have been as aggravated with the nurse as he was, but every time she opened her mouth, she sounded like she was attempting to talk to a child.  His own mother did the same thing.  "This may surprise you, but I was there."  He looked away from her, staring at the wall opposite of him.  "Now will you kindly tell me where my brother is?"

The nurse narrowed her eyes impatiently, but just as quickly as she did this, the look was gone and had morphed into something more sympathetic.  "He's in intensive care."  Seeing Sebastian's eyes widen and focus shoot back on her, she shook her head.  "We expect full recovery, don't worry."

"Then I'm sure you wouldn't mind if I requested to see him?" he asked, his gaze unwavering.

"Not yet; he's not awake."  She poised her pen over her paper, waving it from side to side.  "I'm going to need your information.  Your brother's name, your ages, contact information, et cetra.  Nothing too painful, I promise."

Sebastian shifted in his bed, frowning.  No, he wanted to see his brother.  He didn't care if she said that they expected him to be fine in the end, he wanted to see him.  However, he was sure that there really was nothing he could do to convince the nurse to change her answer, so he released a sigh and complied.

That meant that the family would be showing up soon.  Great, just what he wanted.  Mass panic.

[Desiré Alys]

Desiré had no more idea how long he'd been out than Sebastian did upon waking, but he certainly wasn't feeling nearly as energetic.  Arguing with doctors or nurses was well beyond his abilities at the moment, and all he really felt was groggy.  It could have been hours after Sebastian had given Nurse Webb their information or days, for all that he knew, but even the thought of moving didn't appeal to him.  Inevitably, he had to, though.

Why?

Well, for one thing, there was nothing about this room that felt familiar, right down to the nasty smell.  It was familiar, and unpleasant, which was part of how he recognized it.  A hospital.  He remembered it from when their grandfather was sick, before the man died.  He never liked hospitals, but then, not many people do.  Being stuck in one probably wasn't going to do him any good in that department, but he wasn't really complaining just yet.

He finally moved, tilting his head ever so slightly as though he was trying to test it out, and all he had was a little ache in his neck.  Okay, not so bad.  His head hurt, but he obviously couldn't see the gashes and bruising it had undertaken.  Seeing his mother sitting there with a pale face, seemingly asleep, didn't help his concerns about his physical condition in all this, but his father didn't appear to be around.  Where was he?  And where was Sebastian?  He needed to sit up so that he could see better.

Well.  He THOUGHT he needed to sit up.  As soon as he tried moving his left arm, his breath caught in his throat, the only audible sound to suggest the pain he'd just endured at trying to move it, and he wasn't sure if it was broken, or just cut to hell, what with all the bandages he finally saw (when it actually occurred to him to LOOK at it, the genius).  Eyes wide (which made him more aware of the fact that one was sore and puffy), he tried to tilt upward to see the rest, rather than move anything else that might hurt like hell.  He realized his left leg was wrapped as well, and that looked more like a cast underneath the blanket.  Brilliant.  That tilting still hurt, but it also made him realize that he was wrapped like a mummy, and it was mostly his left side that hurt, in shooting pains.  The right side was just sore, like bruises after football practice. 

Oh God, how bad was it?

He finally tore his eyes away from taking in his own situation to see what the rest of the room held, and that was when he made eye contact with Sebastian.  His father wasn't there, probably getting coffee.  Sebastian didn't look great, either, with bruises and a cast.  Desiré felt bad already, just looking at him.  He'd screwed up BAD this time. 

Shouldn't have taken my eyes off the road...

Thinking back, he also remembered the wet dripping sound, and how dark everything below the door had looked, even with lights flashing.  Blood, it was so obvious now, and it almost made him nauseous to think about it.  Once more, how bad?

[Martine Liten]

From the point when Sebastian woke up to the point he was in now, not a lot had happened.  He was on so much medication that his head was foggy and he felt like he was moving in slow motion, but he couldn't feel the pain in his arm, leg, head; no where.  In fact, he couldn't even feel his guilt anymore.  He felt like his whole being was slow to react.  After the initial run in with Nurse Webb, she had suggested some medication to the doctor, and he must have agreed because before he knew it, he felt like he was high.

The family had shown up about an hour or so later.  Mother, father, and thankfully, no Uncle Dirk.  When Sebastian had finally been allowed to stand, which proved to be slightly difficult thanks to his leg being mildly damaged--they suggested an air cast for that one--his mother had seized him in an incredible bear hug that nearly constricted all of the oxygen from his lungs.  To her surprise, he didn't protest or shove her away.  He let her hug him, and he even returned it for the most part.  For him, that was a big deal.  However, Mom was a smart woman and knew that Sebastian hated it when people pointed out when he did something out of the ordinary, so she only smiled at him and told him how happy she was that he was alright.

He had to stop himself from telling her that the whole accident was his fault.  She didn't even mention the fact that there had been an accident.  That was the least of her concerns.

Father, though, had mentioned it.  He asked what had happened.  Sebastian blamed Chris and left it at that.

Sebastian was so guilty.  He didn't feel guilty, not on the drugs he was on, but he knew that he was.  That was enough to make him not want to talk about it any further than he absolutely had to.

Nurse Webb had been gracious enough to explain all of the details of what Sebastian would be going through for the next couple of months, all smiles and sympathetic glimpses.  When he wasn't arguing with her, he realized that she really was a nice woman.  Maybe he had been too hard on her?  No, maybe she shouldn't have treated him like a child.

Then came the subject of Desiré.  Webb said something about broken ribs, a broken arm and a smashed leg.  She was solemn when she mentioned his leg, going into details with a little sigh.  They were going to do what they could, but it looked like they had to possibly amputate.  That was the last option though, and she suggested surgery to the parents.  There was always the chance that they could repair it . . .

That led them to their current positions.  Their father was probably sitting at one of the tables in the shop staring into space like he always did when things got too stressful for him, coffee in hand; one for him and one for his wife.  He would be back.  Their mother had fallen asleep about a half hour prior to her husband's departure, which had been about ten minutes ago, and Sebastian had been absolutely lost in thought.  He was staring into space, eyes narrowed and hand under his chin.  Then, after what felt like an eternity, he saw Desiré move.

When their eyes connected, Sebastian froze.  Now what was he supposed to do?  He parted his lips to speak, closed his mouth again, then opened it once more.  "Welcome back," he managed, half smiling.  He wanted to bash his head against something.  "Want me to buzz the nurse?  She'll inject you with something potent and make you numb too."  Then, unable to help himself, he chuckled quietly.  His voice was soft and low, trying not to wake their mother.  Not yet.  She would swoop in and crush Desiré too.  Sebastian wanted to give his brother a moment to collect himself.

[Desiré Alys]

Fortunately, nobody had said anything to Desiré about his injuries, especially his leg, and so he didn't have to freak out or freeze just yet.  It was a toss-up as to which way he'd react, though he'd probably freeze up and give them all a shocked look, while he had an internal freak-out session.  Yeah, that'd be it.  It was just too much at once, and he already felt too out of it from the painkillers they already had him on just from trying to stabilize him to really react too strongly to anything.  He had time later.

"Back.  I don't feel back yet," he said, equally quietly, though that might have been his voice not feeling incredibly enthusiastic.  Did he want to feel numb.  "Man, I might fall asleep again if she did that.  How long has it been?"

He was avoiding the question he wanted to ask, which was about himself, and that was because, for once, he was being the cowardly one.  He didn't want to know.  "You okay?  You look like you got hit by a tree," he said, his voice pretty low-key and monotone, but at least he was trying.  An attempt at a smile hurt, so it didn't last long, but he relaxed against the bed a little.  Seeing Sebastian alive and mostly whole made him feel better.

[Martine Liten]

"What's worse?  Falling back asleep or being in pain?"  Sebastian eyed Desiré carefully, able to see his pain clearly.  He knew what was wrong with his brother, although he didn't have the heart to tell him.  And why should he?  This was his brother and telling him bad news about his health wasn't his job.  Telling him other kinds of bad news was.

Sighing softly, he leaned forward a bit, putting his arms in his lap and letting his hair fall into his face haphazardly as he stared at the floor.  He then pulled his focus back up, seemingly taking a moment to regroup.  "I don't know how long you were out.  Since I came to, it's been four hours.  Who knows how long its been since the whole tree thing?  I didn't ask."  He didn't want to know, that was why he didn't ask.  He didn't think it really mattered.

He took a moment to answer Desiré's question about whether or not he was okay.  He actually wasn't sure.  Physically, he was sure he would be fine.  Otherwise, no, he wasn't okay.

But when had Sebastian ever been honest about his internal workings?

"But I'll live," he said finally.  That was the best answer he had.  Unable to help it, a sudden wash of guilt, the actual feeling, sliced through him.  He dropped his head again, unable to hold his brother's gaze without showing him what he felt, heaven forbid he actually show what was really on his mind, while the fingers on his left hand tapped his knee distractedly.  He didn't know what to say.  He definitely wanted to bash his head against a wall.

An apology stood on the tip of his tongue, but no sounds escaped him.  He was swallowing it.  Now wasn't the time.