Sequel to Broken.
I stared down at my best friend as he lay silently in the cold, metal hospital bed. There were various monitors and IV drips hooked up to him and an oxygen mask covered his pale face. The room was completely still and silent but for the slow, regular beeping coming from his heart monitor. A brisk wind blew through the pen window showing the first signs of the cold winter approaching, still he did not stir.
He hadn't woken since the collision when a drunken truck driver had hit the small car we'd been using to return home from a mathletes competition. Me, the other passenger and the driver had gotten away from it with only minor injuries, I only had a few cuts and bruises and a broken arm, Dick had not been so lucky. The car had swerved to try and avoid the oncoming truck but this had only resulted in the drunk hitting the back of the car, on the side where Dick had been sitting. I had been in the middle seat beside him and everybody said that I'd been lucky not to have been hurt worse, it wasn't luck, it was Dick. As the truck had hit us, Dick had thrown himself over me, using his body to shield me from the impact. If he hadn't protected me I would probably be lying in a bed beside him right now, as cold and still as him.
I closed my eyes. It pained me to see him like this, so weak, so still. I hated it. Yet I still came, I'd been to see him everyday since the collision, I just couldn't stay away. I came on school days, holidays, birthdays, Christmas, I'd even been late for a few missions with the team because of it, but I still came. Everyday for the past five years I'd come to see him. Everyday since he'd fallen into a coma from which the doctors said he might never awake.
It took every effort I could manage to try not to cry at that moment and still I could feel the hot tears streaming down my cheeks. I looked down at the boy who lay in the bed before me, so silent, so unmoving, and couldn't stop the strangled sob that escaped my lips. A gentle hand rested on my shoulder and I turned to see a familiar face. The person who had supported me and comforted me, the one person who was able to truly understand my feelings and my pain stood behind me. He opened his arms and I gratefully fell into them. His strong arms cradled me as I cried into his warm chest, understanding the pain I felt and providing the comfort I needed.
We stayed like that for a long while, I couldn't tell how long, it could have been minutes, but it felt like hours. I pulled away first, there was a dark, wet patch on his chest from where I'd cried into it but I knew he wouldn't mind, after all, he'd spent this time crying into my hair. He missed him too, I knew that. He felt the same pain from seeing Dick like that that I did. I needed him and he needed me, it was our way of coping.
I looked up at him and his emerald green eyes met my blue. I counted the freckles on his tear-stained cheeks and ran a hand through his soft, red hair as he leaned down towards me. His hot lips met mine and I closed my eyes, feeling the closest to him I'd ever felt. Heat and passion and pain, so much pain. We poured everything we were and everything we felt into that one perfect kiss. He held me close to him, his arms tightly wrapped around me, protecting me, in a way not unlike what Dick had done that night. I understood why the sweet red head held me like that, embracing me so protectively because he wanted to protect me, to keep me safe from harm and to never let me go, he didn't want to lose me too. I understood how he felt because I felt exactly the same way as he did. I wrapped my arms around his warm, perfect body, expressing how I felt, before losing my self again in the heat and passion of his lips on mine, beside our comatose best friend's hospital bed. I might not even have noticed if he woke up right then.