Winter Wakes

“Now, kindly tell me, what the fuck are you doing here?”

Simon committed suicide. Simon has a twin. Simon had secrets that I couldn’t have guessed. This meant there was probably a ton of other stuff I didn’t know either; stuff like this that I wouldn’t understand and could be certain of the level of importance.

“This is where you went yesterday, too?” I ignored his question.

I recognized a fire in his eyes that had been missing the past forty-eight hours or so, “Yes. Now answer my question. What are you doing here?”

I looked dumbly back over at the battered yet still breathing mirror of Simon. It was scary, and confusing. Simon had a twin?

“Katie thinks I broke my wrist, and then I saw your dad going into the hospital and I wanted to ask him about—“ I broke off there. What was I going to say? I wanted to ask him about why you killed yourself? Yeah. That’d go over very well. “What happened to your brother?”

Simon was suddenly on his feet and in front of me; I tried not to look startled or frightened, but with our past history who could blame me? I felt his cold touch on my right arm as he pulled it up, pushing my coat sleeve back. My wrist looked bad; swollen horribly, a slight discolored tint to it.

“God you are one stupid girl,” He muttered. “Emergency room. Now.”

One of his hands reached around my back, I winced slightly with the expectation of a rough shove or something close. I just felt a hand pushing me forward expectantly, not harshly.

“You’re not even supposed to be up here in the first place.”

His hand remained on my back as we walked towards the elevator; I cast a glance over my shoulder to the room where his brother lay in a coma.

“He was in a car wreck,” Simon stated. “Notice I didn’t say accident.”

My heart jumped into my throat, “Were you with him…?”

“No.”

So that ruled out Simon committing suicide because he blamed himself for his brother’s condition, well it may have. I hit the down button on the elevator as we reached the doors.

“I would like to know how you managed this,” Simon motioned to my swollen wrist.

“I tripped trying to get down some stairs.”

“Jesus. You just can’t walk properly, can you?”

I wanted to tell him my fall was his fault and I could walk thanks. But instead I settled for, “I was in a hurry, actually.”

The elevator doors opened and I stepped hastily in, hitting the button for the first floor immediately. The pain in my wrist was really starting to get to me, and I didn’t need his bitchy comments right now.

“Seriously? You were going to be late for class on the second day?”

Today my fuse was a little shorter than usual thanks to the events leading up to this very moment. I shot him a look of pure venom.

“No Simon, I was trying to escape some bastard who wanted to give me all the gory details of your suicidal drinking binge,” I fired. In that moment, I didn’t regret what I said. His blue eyes were wide with shock, frozen that way for a few seconds. I turned away without waiting for his expression to change.

“And you believe that?” Even if that was genuine hurt in his voice, at the moment I didn’t care.

“I don’t fucking know, Simon. What the hell am I supposed to believe?” I felt the car shake a little as it came to a halt. “You haven’t given me much to go on.”

He really hadn’t. He’d never told me why he was dead. He’d never even mentioned a brother, let alone that being his reason for vanishing yesterday. This wasn’t fucking CIA or Area 51 classified information. I just wanted to know what was going on, why all this was happening.

I barreled past the old couple standing on the other side of the doors, going straight for the entrance. I saw the flash of blonde hair and green eyes at the door way right before her voice cut across the lobby.

“There you are,” Shit. Katie sounded—and looked—absolutely livid. She could give Simon a run for his money right now. “Get your little ass over here. So help me if I have to drag you to that emergency room I will. Where the hell did you go?”

She grabbed my uninjured arm as I reached her, hauling me outside and in the direction I assumed the emergency room to be in. If she believed her vice grip was going to prevent me from running off again, I assure you, she was correct.

“I thought I saw my uncle go in there,” I looked back, a little surprised to see Simon right behind me. He followed us in silence, hands stuffed in his pockets.

“Uh huh. Right. Because your uncle would just randomly decide to drop by the long-term care portion of a hospital,” Katie huffed in front of me. “Dammit, Maggie. If you hadn’t decided to run off we could have gotten you in there for an appointment right away. Now we’re gonna have to wait. I should have known you were trouble the second I laid eyes on you. God, you’re so much like Ollie…”

“Oliver?” I chirped. “Oliver Dreyton?”

“Yeah.”

There was heaviness in her tone when she replied. I still couldn’t help but marvel as she drug me through the doors of the Emergency room, pushing me down into one of the blue, plastic chairs in the waiting room.

“So, you knew Simon as well, then?”

Her green eyes immediately hardened, arms crossed in front of her chest, “That, child, was the brother I did not associate with. Now your little ass better stay here while I get you signed in. Okay?”

I nodded in response. Katie heaved a sigh before walking away while mumbling something about tying me to the chair. Not that I could really blame her after my behavior so far. But my god, my wrist was really starting to hurt.

“Do you really think I killed myself?”

Right now there was one plus side to sitting in a crowded emergency room. I couldn’t answer Simon. Because quite frankly, I don’t know what my answer would have been. Everything was so confusing, so awkward, and so out of my capacity to understand. I sat in silence, he didn’t say anything after that either. I could feel his presence though, the cold air he gave off nipped at my back. No one sat around me.

After an hour and a half of awkward silence between a dead guy and a pissed off southern belle I was finally called back. It was the usual, examination, x-rays, then another wait. I thought throughout all of it, not about my screwed up wrist, more about Simon, and his secrets. And just what exactly my answer to his question was. Did I think he killed himself? I honestly couldn’t answer that.

My thoughts were briefly interrupted as an older nurse informed me they wanted to run an MRI. Of course I said yes. Then there was another wait. And more thinking. Now thoughts of Simon were occasionally accompanied by thoughts of Darren, and how I hadn’t heard from him in the past two days. I wonder how he’d take a phone call informing him I’d injured myself… while attending the college of his dreams. I still hadn’t told him I was going to Brown University. I couldn’t muster up the will power to. Darren had applied, and been denied our senior year of high school. It tore him apart, although he didn’t like to show it. I hadn’t known how he would handle me getting accepted so I had avoided telling him at all costs. I could feel him drifting; he knew I was hiding something. Darren had been a permanent fixture in my life for the past two years, he was a safe haven. He was MY Darren.

“Ms. Walton?”

I looked up. A worn out, middle aged man stood in the door way, head down as he examined the clipboard in his hands.

“Yes?”

He walked in, kicking the door closed behind him with his foot, “I’m Dr. Smith. You said you fell down some stairs at your campus and injured your wrist?”

I nodded. He caught it before glancing back down.

“Alright well, good news, your wrist isn’t broken. No fractures or anything, it’s just severely sprained. You’ll need to wrap it and refrain from using it as much as possible. Putting ice on it wouldn’t be a bad idea either. We can prescribe you some medicine for the pain if you’d like.”

No break? Damn. I guess that was lucky. And then there was the offer of pain medication. The pain with which my wrist was throbbing called for something. I accepted his offer without hesitation, allowing one of the nurses to wrap my wrist a few moments later before I was given my prescription and sent on my merry way.

Two sets of eyes stared anxiously in my direction as I stepped back out into the waiting room. I stepped lightly towards them, trying to smile. Katie I was ready to deal with. Simon I could have gone without seeing. I didn’t know what to say around him, I didn’t know how to act.

“It’s just a sprain. I just need to let it rest, and put some ice on it.”

Katie sighed as she stood up, pulling me into a tight hug. I awkwardly patted her back with my good hand, confused by her sudden show of affection. She didn’t let go then, though.

“You are one lucky bitch,” She sounded relieved, still squeezing the life out of me. “If you need me to drive you home and come pick you up for class tomorrow, I can. Okay?”

The set of blue eyes that were fixated on me held no trace of emotion; nothing on his face did. Simon watched me with an emotionless stare. He was unreadable and silent as he stood on the other side of the chairs. I could only stare hopelessly back.

“No, I think I can drive, Katie,” I pulled away. “Could you just take me back to my car? I really appreciate all this though, thank you. So much.”

I managed to give Katie a genuine smile, which she accepted before hassling me out to her car. Simon was in the backseat. Katie was unaccustomed to the chill, bumping the heat up for our short ride back to campus. I thanked her multiple times once there as she grabbed my bags out of her car and chunked them in my trunk for me. She really was a sweet girl.

I drove home with one hand; it’s actually easier than I thought it would be. Turning did suck though, I’ll say that much. Dad wasn’t at the house when I got there, another funeral, or wake, I assumed. I wasn’t surprised. This was fairly common.

Exhausted from the day’s events, I took my boots off before immediately curling under my sheets to try to get some rest.

“Maggie, I think we need to talk.”

I blinked. That was the first time he had said that as opposed to me. Everything that had happened it seemed rushed back to me at those seven words. George spilling Simon’s suicide; my sprained wrist; Oliver Dreyton, the twin Simon never mentioned who was in a coma.

Even the thought of dozing off now seemed like an impossibility. But I didn’t sit up. I didn’t turn over. I didn’t even move.

“Alright, Simon. Start talking.”