Post by Sterling Wyatt Carlisle on Feb 16, 2013 13:21:16 GMT -5
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[style=font-family: georgia; font-size: 20px; letter-spacing: 2px; color: #ffffff; text-align: center;] THEY WERE ALL BORN PRETTY
[style=font-family: georgia; font-size: 20px; letter-spacing: 2px; color: #ffffff; text-align: center;] THEY WERE ALL BORN PRETTYin new york city tonight, and someone's little girl was taken from the world tonight, under the stars and stripes
From the outside everything looked peaceful and still. The only real noise being made was the whirring of the machines and the constant beep that signalled a steady heartbeat. Sterling was unmoving, not even a finger flinched or an eyelid fluttered, he looked very much asleep and very much almost dead. But there were signs of life, at least according to the machines around him. The one that monitored his heart rate being second to the one which was breathing for him, pumping his lungs full of air through a breathing tube before sucking it back out again for him. And then there were five bags, all attached to different tubes which were in turn attached to different parts of his body. Two of the bags were on one side of him, in his arm, pumping him full of fluids and pain relief, in the other arm was a bag, which trickled blood into his body. He had had a rather large blood transfusion during surgery but now needed a smaller more steady flow to keep him going. The fifth bag was just connected to his catheter, secured near the end of his bed. The fourth bag was the worst one.
It was attached to a tube which went in through the side of his chest by his ribcage; it was perfectly fitted, seamless, almost like he had been born with it. And through this tube dripped a dark, putrid looking liquid which had built up in the cavity below his lungs due to a piece of debris which had penetrated his chest. The piece of metal which had gone through him had almost cost him his life. But Sterling was blissfully unaware of all of this going on around him, all the machines, the fluids, the nurses and doctors coming in and out, his family and friends visiting, waiting and watching him. His mind was blank, there was nothing but his brain was desperately trying to hold on, sending out messages through his nervous system screaming ‘fix it, fix it!’. It had been doing that since the crash and all through the night and it seemed his brain was finally ready to let him wake up to examine the damage.
It was a slow process, waking him. His brain had all but switched off for a long period of time and he had lost a lot of blood so he was slow to recuperate, but it did happen.
His throat felt odd, scratchy; like somebody had lodged a sharp stick down there and then left it in, blocking his windpipe. Yeah there was something definitely in his throat, he had to get it out but he couldn’t, his body wasn’t responding, at least not as quickly as he would like. His chest began to heave as his brain started to panic, wondering what the hell was going on, what was happening? He was getting desperate for air as his body fought the breathing tube which was supposed to be helping him. He tried to lift his arm in order to pull whatever was choking him out of there but he couldn’t, for some reason his arm wouldn’t lift up more than an inch. So he continued to splutter and gasp for air until he heard voices around him telling him to hold still and stay calm. And then he felt hands on either side of his head, and the intruder which had been in his throat slowly started to move up and out. “Okay, there we go." It was a woman’s voice, but not one that was familiar to him, not that he cared, he was just happy he could finally damn well breathe.
“Sterling, Sterling can you hear me?” Confused and very much worn out, Ster responded with a low groan and he was relieved when the pair of hands removed themselves from his head, maybe whoever it had been was going to leave him to sleep for a little while longer. There were more voices, the same female one from a moment ago and another, deeper one. He didn’t quite catch what they were saying but soon the voices stopped and he heard the familiar sound of a door closing. Another groan escaped him and he figured he might as well get up now; there was no chance he was going to be able to get back to sleep after that. He opened his eyes slowly, slowly because the room was incredibly bright for some reason and it stung his eyes and hurt his head but after a moment or two he managed to adjust and opened his eyes further, still squinting against the light but at least he was able to see.
Where was he? He was laid out flat on his back (he knew that much) and was staring up at an astonishingly white ceiling which was still hurting his eyes. In fact, even the walls were white. He blinked again, completely confused about what was going on, why did he feel like he had been run over by a steam roller? His entire body ached and he really didn’t know why. When he opened his eyes again, that was when he saw him, what was his brother doing in here…wherever ‘here’ was? Sterling tried to speak, just to say his name but nothing came out, at least not on the first two tries. “Hayden?” His voice didn’t sound like it belonged to him at all; it was weaker and seemed further away than what it normally did… “W-what's going on?” He asked, not yet even realising that he had a massive hole in his chest (although that had been covered with a dressing of sorts) or that he was attached to multiple pieces of tubing. He just wanted his brother to tell him what was happening.
It was attached to a tube which went in through the side of his chest by his ribcage; it was perfectly fitted, seamless, almost like he had been born with it. And through this tube dripped a dark, putrid looking liquid which had built up in the cavity below his lungs due to a piece of debris which had penetrated his chest. The piece of metal which had gone through him had almost cost him his life. But Sterling was blissfully unaware of all of this going on around him, all the machines, the fluids, the nurses and doctors coming in and out, his family and friends visiting, waiting and watching him. His mind was blank, there was nothing but his brain was desperately trying to hold on, sending out messages through his nervous system screaming ‘fix it, fix it!’. It had been doing that since the crash and all through the night and it seemed his brain was finally ready to let him wake up to examine the damage.
It was a slow process, waking him. His brain had all but switched off for a long period of time and he had lost a lot of blood so he was slow to recuperate, but it did happen.
His throat felt odd, scratchy; like somebody had lodged a sharp stick down there and then left it in, blocking his windpipe. Yeah there was something definitely in his throat, he had to get it out but he couldn’t, his body wasn’t responding, at least not as quickly as he would like. His chest began to heave as his brain started to panic, wondering what the hell was going on, what was happening? He was getting desperate for air as his body fought the breathing tube which was supposed to be helping him. He tried to lift his arm in order to pull whatever was choking him out of there but he couldn’t, for some reason his arm wouldn’t lift up more than an inch. So he continued to splutter and gasp for air until he heard voices around him telling him to hold still and stay calm. And then he felt hands on either side of his head, and the intruder which had been in his throat slowly started to move up and out. “Okay, there we go." It was a woman’s voice, but not one that was familiar to him, not that he cared, he was just happy he could finally damn well breathe.
“Sterling, Sterling can you hear me?” Confused and very much worn out, Ster responded with a low groan and he was relieved when the pair of hands removed themselves from his head, maybe whoever it had been was going to leave him to sleep for a little while longer. There were more voices, the same female one from a moment ago and another, deeper one. He didn’t quite catch what they were saying but soon the voices stopped and he heard the familiar sound of a door closing. Another groan escaped him and he figured he might as well get up now; there was no chance he was going to be able to get back to sleep after that. He opened his eyes slowly, slowly because the room was incredibly bright for some reason and it stung his eyes and hurt his head but after a moment or two he managed to adjust and opened his eyes further, still squinting against the light but at least he was able to see.
Where was he? He was laid out flat on his back (he knew that much) and was staring up at an astonishingly white ceiling which was still hurting his eyes. In fact, even the walls were white. He blinked again, completely confused about what was going on, why did he feel like he had been run over by a steam roller? His entire body ached and he really didn’t know why. When he opened his eyes again, that was when he saw him, what was his brother doing in here…wherever ‘here’ was? Sterling tried to speak, just to say his name but nothing came out, at least not on the first two tries. “Hayden?” His voice didn’t sound like it belonged to him at all; it was weaker and seemed further away than what it normally did… “W-what's going on?” He asked, not yet even realising that he had a massive hole in his chest (although that had been covered with a dressing of sorts) or that he was attached to multiple pieces of tubing. He just wanted his brother to tell him what was happening.
OUTFIT: - NOTES: feels
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