Status: Complete.
Kings of Medicine
Kings Of Medicine
They’re picking up pieces of me, while they’re picking up pieces of you.
In a bag you will be before the day is over.
It all started out as a good idea, escaping to defy the signs of boredom that had already started to appear. The party was becoming a dull roar of bad music and few conversations as people passed out around them. Brian wiped the tears from his face. It had been her idea, he reminded himself. This was her fault.
Were you looking for somewhere to be,
Or looking for someone to do?
Stupid me, to believe that I could trust in stupid you.
He looked across the room towards her bed once more, regretting it yet again. She had so many things plugged into her body at the arms; so many tubes of liquid going in and out hanging from the railings. He looked down to his own arms. One had been put in plaster and was beginning to hurt a little, but he didn’t dare complain. He looked to his hands where the address was written.
And on the back of my hand,
Were directions I could understand.
If he hadn’t have heard word of another place to go, he thought angrily, then they’d not be in this place. He clenched his fists into balls as he thought more and more about the whole situation and his own sheer stupidity, stopping when he felt a sharp pain coming from the palm of his hand. Brian grimaced as he noticed that the stitches had broken apart. He’d been holding the bottle so tight when it all happened that he hadn’t noticed as it shattered against the dashboard and the pieces of glass dug into his skin. The doctors said it cut pretty deep. He didn’t care.
Now that old buzzard Johnny Walker,
Has gone and ruined all our plans,
Our best made plans.
He didn’t care for any harm that had been put on himself. He didn’t care he’d not be able to play for perhaps months as his hand took the time to heal, and he regained movement in his arm. He didn’t care that they’d told him she had little chance of making it through the night. He couldn’t. He had to think she’d make it through, that it was possible to see her smiling once more. She couldn’t just leave him there to face the world alone.
Don’t leave me here to pass through time,
Without a map or road sign.
Was she so selfish? Did she not care for him at all? She still hadn’t a clue how he felt, and he couldn’t let her go without knowing.
Don’t leave me here my guiding light,
Cos I…I,
Wouldn’t know where to begin.
The doctor came back into the room to check on them as Brian sat in the corner, staring at the stitches in his hand. It worried him that Brian hadn’t seemed to move an inch since he entered the room to see his friend. Well, after his concerning hysterics. His shrill voice was still ringing in the back of the doctor’s mind as he shook it from his head and proceeded to examine the woman before him. She wasn’t in good shape. He’d told Brian that, but he didn’t appear to have listened. Brian lifted his head as he heard the man walk past, calling for him in the loudest voice he could manage as he left through the door.
I ask the kings of medicine.
“Wait…” He heard the footsteps begin to backtrack.
“Yes, Brian?” Brian extended his arm to show the man his hand. “Ohh, what have you done there?” Brian didn’t feel the need to answer. “I’ll fix that up in just a moment–”
“She’s gonna be okay, yeah?” He received no reply as the doctor looked down at him, save for the look of dejection seeping from his eyes. He’d already explained it all quite clearly to Brian. When you’re involved in such an accident, you’re lucky to get out alive. He’d told Brian he must have some lucks stars, being only as injured as he was.
They’re picking up pieces of me while they’re picking up pieces of you,
Laying on ice you will be before the day is over.
That hadn’t made it any easier for Brian to understand. Fate had decided he was worth more than the beautiful girl laying across from him, and Brian would never understand it. If he’d just told her no, that they’d had enough for one night. If he’d not been so determined to show her a good time, perhaps they’d be unconscious beside one another on the grimy floor of the flat somewhere. He hated this one-sided thing they had going. He wanted to be beside her now, but knew he’d be saying the opposite if he were. If he were there it’d be entirely her fault he was hurt; it’d all be her fault, and her fault alone. She was so drunk; she’d told him so as she reversed out the car park.
It’s a case in point baby, that you never thought it through.
Stupid me to believe I could depend on stupid you.
But Brian still let her drive. He liked that he could still blame himself for everything a little. When she awoke, he was sure she would, he’d insist upon it being entirely his fault she was in that bed to begin with. He’d beg for her forgiveness and buy her a flower for each day she was stuck there. He adored this girl, inside and out. She’d always been there for him with his problems and the constant drama that seemed to follow wherever he went. Now as he was supposed to be there for her, he was sitting as far from her as possible. He conjured up the courage to lift himself from his place in the corner and go sit by her side, more tears making their way down his cheeks as he got a closer look at her once more. The first time had him screaming at her, begging her to wake up and stare back at him. This second time he couldn’t find the energy to speak. He’d lost his words as he stared at her, all bruised and broken. All he could think to say would still never be heard by her conscious ears.
And on the tip of my tongue,
Were words that always came out wrong.
“I love you,” he breathed, leaning down to kiss her forehead. He didn’t care it was all bandaged up. She felt it, he told himself. She knew he was there for her. He regretted having left it until possibly the very last moment to tell her how he’d felt for her for so many years. He’d told her countless times before; he could name them all. He could reconstruct the exact look in her eye she’d given him every time, that look that said, “aww, you’re a good friend, Brian.” She never quite got it in that state, and he never explained it further. He wondered why he kept telling her when they were drunk, pissed off that he hadn’t just said it to her sober. Just once would have done, he realised. He was dying to know if she felt anything in return that they could perhaps act upon. She was dying.
Cos they were drowned in Southern Comfort,
And left to dry out in the sun,
The noonday sun.
The heart monitor she was hooked to began to whine beside Brian, causing him to jump in shock at the sudden change in background noise. It didn’t register to him exactly what was happening until the doctors came and he was fighting with them to be left be her side.
“You have to leave. Your friend is dying,” he was told bluntly by a brunette nurse. She led him quickly out of the room and squeezed his hand gently before letting it drop limply to his side, throwing him a sympathetic look as she saw the pain in his eyes that was spilling down his cheeks as a clear liquid. She’d seen it so many times before, yet it still got to her every time.
“Don’t leave me here alone without her!” he screamed through the closed door at them as they closed the blinds and cut his eyes from his friend’s closed ones.
Don’t leave me here to pass through time,
Without a map or road sign.
His knees gave way from beneath him as he cried for his friend who appeared to be losing her fight with the Reaper. Someone’s hand was on his shoulder attempting to comfort him, but to no avail.
Don’t leave me here my guiding light,
Cos I…I,
Wouldn’t know where to begin.
A few people now stood before Brian; he could see their shoes. From this, he could tell they were doctors.
“Is she okay?” he asked, his voice hoarse and cut with grief.
I ask the kings of medicine.
“Brian, I’m sorry but…” He recognised the lady’s voice as the brunette nurse. “She didn’t make it. We’re so sorry. We tried everything to save her.”
But it seems they’ve lost their powers.
Now all I’m left with is the hours.
Brian felt his heart tear into two as her words registered in his mind and were turned to a form he could understand. She was gone. He got up with shaking limbs and walked forward, back into the room he’d been sat in for hours, back to the bedside of the woman he adored. She looked so peaceful, he thought, as he lifted his gaze to meet her pretty face. He reached out his hand to lightly brush his fingertips over her lips, smiling as he remembered the time he’d drunkenly kissed them. She hadn’t seemed to mind. They moved to her cheek, and then he took them back to move them to his own.
“I love you,” he whispered to her for the last time, reaching for her hand. “You know that now. I’ll always love you.”
Don’t leave me here to pass through time,
Without a map or road sign.
Don’t leave me here my guiding light,
Cos I…I,
Wouldn’t know where to begin.
I ask the kings of medicine.
But it seems they’ve lost their powers.
Now all I’m left with is the hours.
Brian sat in his room at his desk littered with papers, none of which he knew belonged to what anymore. He was stuck on writing this down whilst it was still so clear in his mind, though he knew it’d always be clear in his mind. It’d been a few months and he could write without physical restriction anymore. The reminders of the accident had been removed and he was himself once more, his healthy self. Despite being perfectly fine, he was so very broken. A stray tear made its way slowly down Brian’s cheek as he thought back to everything. He remembered when he eventually had to leave her side at the hospital, and he remembered the funeral a few days later. Through everything that had happened he remembered most the look in her eyes as they’d held hands in the car when they could tell things were out of control, and how she’d told him she was scared. Brian was scared now. He didn’t know where to begin.
Don’t leave me here.
Don’t leave me here, oh no,
I wouldn’t know where to begin.
In a bag you will be before the day is over.
It all started out as a good idea, escaping to defy the signs of boredom that had already started to appear. The party was becoming a dull roar of bad music and few conversations as people passed out around them. Brian wiped the tears from his face. It had been her idea, he reminded himself. This was her fault.
Were you looking for somewhere to be,
Or looking for someone to do?
Stupid me, to believe that I could trust in stupid you.
He looked across the room towards her bed once more, regretting it yet again. She had so many things plugged into her body at the arms; so many tubes of liquid going in and out hanging from the railings. He looked down to his own arms. One had been put in plaster and was beginning to hurt a little, but he didn’t dare complain. He looked to his hands where the address was written.
And on the back of my hand,
Were directions I could understand.
If he hadn’t have heard word of another place to go, he thought angrily, then they’d not be in this place. He clenched his fists into balls as he thought more and more about the whole situation and his own sheer stupidity, stopping when he felt a sharp pain coming from the palm of his hand. Brian grimaced as he noticed that the stitches had broken apart. He’d been holding the bottle so tight when it all happened that he hadn’t noticed as it shattered against the dashboard and the pieces of glass dug into his skin. The doctors said it cut pretty deep. He didn’t care.
Now that old buzzard Johnny Walker,
Has gone and ruined all our plans,
Our best made plans.
He didn’t care for any harm that had been put on himself. He didn’t care he’d not be able to play for perhaps months as his hand took the time to heal, and he regained movement in his arm. He didn’t care that they’d told him she had little chance of making it through the night. He couldn’t. He had to think she’d make it through, that it was possible to see her smiling once more. She couldn’t just leave him there to face the world alone.
Don’t leave me here to pass through time,
Without a map or road sign.
Was she so selfish? Did she not care for him at all? She still hadn’t a clue how he felt, and he couldn’t let her go without knowing.
Don’t leave me here my guiding light,
Cos I…I,
Wouldn’t know where to begin.
The doctor came back into the room to check on them as Brian sat in the corner, staring at the stitches in his hand. It worried him that Brian hadn’t seemed to move an inch since he entered the room to see his friend. Well, after his concerning hysterics. His shrill voice was still ringing in the back of the doctor’s mind as he shook it from his head and proceeded to examine the woman before him. She wasn’t in good shape. He’d told Brian that, but he didn’t appear to have listened. Brian lifted his head as he heard the man walk past, calling for him in the loudest voice he could manage as he left through the door.
I ask the kings of medicine.
“Wait…” He heard the footsteps begin to backtrack.
“Yes, Brian?” Brian extended his arm to show the man his hand. “Ohh, what have you done there?” Brian didn’t feel the need to answer. “I’ll fix that up in just a moment–”
“She’s gonna be okay, yeah?” He received no reply as the doctor looked down at him, save for the look of dejection seeping from his eyes. He’d already explained it all quite clearly to Brian. When you’re involved in such an accident, you’re lucky to get out alive. He’d told Brian he must have some lucks stars, being only as injured as he was.
They’re picking up pieces of me while they’re picking up pieces of you,
Laying on ice you will be before the day is over.
That hadn’t made it any easier for Brian to understand. Fate had decided he was worth more than the beautiful girl laying across from him, and Brian would never understand it. If he’d just told her no, that they’d had enough for one night. If he’d not been so determined to show her a good time, perhaps they’d be unconscious beside one another on the grimy floor of the flat somewhere. He hated this one-sided thing they had going. He wanted to be beside her now, but knew he’d be saying the opposite if he were. If he were there it’d be entirely her fault he was hurt; it’d all be her fault, and her fault alone. She was so drunk; she’d told him so as she reversed out the car park.
It’s a case in point baby, that you never thought it through.
Stupid me to believe I could depend on stupid you.
But Brian still let her drive. He liked that he could still blame himself for everything a little. When she awoke, he was sure she would, he’d insist upon it being entirely his fault she was in that bed to begin with. He’d beg for her forgiveness and buy her a flower for each day she was stuck there. He adored this girl, inside and out. She’d always been there for him with his problems and the constant drama that seemed to follow wherever he went. Now as he was supposed to be there for her, he was sitting as far from her as possible. He conjured up the courage to lift himself from his place in the corner and go sit by her side, more tears making their way down his cheeks as he got a closer look at her once more. The first time had him screaming at her, begging her to wake up and stare back at him. This second time he couldn’t find the energy to speak. He’d lost his words as he stared at her, all bruised and broken. All he could think to say would still never be heard by her conscious ears.
And on the tip of my tongue,
Were words that always came out wrong.
“I love you,” he breathed, leaning down to kiss her forehead. He didn’t care it was all bandaged up. She felt it, he told himself. She knew he was there for her. He regretted having left it until possibly the very last moment to tell her how he’d felt for her for so many years. He’d told her countless times before; he could name them all. He could reconstruct the exact look in her eye she’d given him every time, that look that said, “aww, you’re a good friend, Brian.” She never quite got it in that state, and he never explained it further. He wondered why he kept telling her when they were drunk, pissed off that he hadn’t just said it to her sober. Just once would have done, he realised. He was dying to know if she felt anything in return that they could perhaps act upon. She was dying.
Cos they were drowned in Southern Comfort,
And left to dry out in the sun,
The noonday sun.
The heart monitor she was hooked to began to whine beside Brian, causing him to jump in shock at the sudden change in background noise. It didn’t register to him exactly what was happening until the doctors came and he was fighting with them to be left be her side.
“You have to leave. Your friend is dying,” he was told bluntly by a brunette nurse. She led him quickly out of the room and squeezed his hand gently before letting it drop limply to his side, throwing him a sympathetic look as she saw the pain in his eyes that was spilling down his cheeks as a clear liquid. She’d seen it so many times before, yet it still got to her every time.
“Don’t leave me here alone without her!” he screamed through the closed door at them as they closed the blinds and cut his eyes from his friend’s closed ones.
Don’t leave me here to pass through time,
Without a map or road sign.
His knees gave way from beneath him as he cried for his friend who appeared to be losing her fight with the Reaper. Someone’s hand was on his shoulder attempting to comfort him, but to no avail.
Don’t leave me here my guiding light,
Cos I…I,
Wouldn’t know where to begin.
A few people now stood before Brian; he could see their shoes. From this, he could tell they were doctors.
“Is she okay?” he asked, his voice hoarse and cut with grief.
I ask the kings of medicine.
“Brian, I’m sorry but…” He recognised the lady’s voice as the brunette nurse. “She didn’t make it. We’re so sorry. We tried everything to save her.”
But it seems they’ve lost their powers.
Now all I’m left with is the hours.
Brian felt his heart tear into two as her words registered in his mind and were turned to a form he could understand. She was gone. He got up with shaking limbs and walked forward, back into the room he’d been sat in for hours, back to the bedside of the woman he adored. She looked so peaceful, he thought, as he lifted his gaze to meet her pretty face. He reached out his hand to lightly brush his fingertips over her lips, smiling as he remembered the time he’d drunkenly kissed them. She hadn’t seemed to mind. They moved to her cheek, and then he took them back to move them to his own.
“I love you,” he whispered to her for the last time, reaching for her hand. “You know that now. I’ll always love you.”
Don’t leave me here to pass through time,
Without a map or road sign.
Don’t leave me here my guiding light,
Cos I…I,
Wouldn’t know where to begin.
I ask the kings of medicine.
But it seems they’ve lost their powers.
Now all I’m left with is the hours.
Brian sat in his room at his desk littered with papers, none of which he knew belonged to what anymore. He was stuck on writing this down whilst it was still so clear in his mind, though he knew it’d always be clear in his mind. It’d been a few months and he could write without physical restriction anymore. The reminders of the accident had been removed and he was himself once more, his healthy self. Despite being perfectly fine, he was so very broken. A stray tear made its way slowly down Brian’s cheek as he thought back to everything. He remembered when he eventually had to leave her side at the hospital, and he remembered the funeral a few days later. Through everything that had happened he remembered most the look in her eyes as they’d held hands in the car when they could tell things were out of control, and how she’d told him she was scared. Brian was scared now. He didn’t know where to begin.
Don’t leave me here.
Don’t leave me here, oh no,
I wouldn’t know where to begin.