Dark Blue

Garrett

I rubbed my eyes and hit the power button on the remote. I couldn't take anymore of these reality shows. I honestly wasn't even sure why I'd been watching them for the past three hours. I'd been so busy on tour, I'd forgotten how stupid, petty shows could catch your attention and keep you watching.

I heard the telephone ring, and my mom's feet shuffling around the kitchen. My eyes flickered outside, where the sun had finished it's descent in the sky. The sliver of a moon shone silver through the airy curtains. The last time I'd just sat and watched the moon had been before the last tour, at our going away party our parents had insisted on throwing.

A sharp gasp and the phone clattering to the ground broke my concentration and train of thought. My eyebrows furrowed together, and I slowly forced myself off the couch. I could feel the frown etching on my face as I sprinted to the kitchen. My mom's voice rang out, calling for my dad in a desperate sob.

"Mom, what's wrong?" I asked, taking in everything about her.

Her face had turned a pale, ashen color, and as I rushed toward her, I could see her shaking visibly. Her eyes were shocked, cloudy, and watering. Something in my heart picked up on everything, and it was thudding so hard I could hear it in my ears. Something was wrong, more wrong than I had ever seen it.

I was so concentrated on trying to console Mom enough to find out what happened I didn't notice Dad had materialized beside me.

"Sweetheart, what's wrong?" he asked, rubbing her shoulders soothingly. I noticed he wore the same expression as me; confused, expecting the worst, but hoping otherwise.

"S-Sage...accident...hospital..." she choked out more sobs coming. All of the color drained from Dad's face, and I imagined the same thing happened to mine. Dad bravely picked up the phone, seeing if the person was still on the other line.

"I'm Sage Nickelsen's father, what's going on?" he croaked out, his voice sounding anxious and strained. My gaze switched back and forth between him and Mom while we waited for Dad to say something, anything.

An eerie silence had overcome the whole house, and it seemed as if a shadow had been cast around us. My head was spinning, and even though I hadn't been in a church in years, I found myself praying.

Dad cleared his throat, shooting my attention to him. "A driver ran a red light and hit the car on the driver's side. They think the guy might have been drunk, and he was definitely speeding. Sage...Sage was driving. She's being rushed to John C. Lincoln in Phoenix. There was a lot of blood, and they aren't sure-"

I had never seen my father cry before, but standing there in the kitchen, his arms clutched around my mother, crystal tears ran down his wrinkling face. I could feel my own tear ducts trying to follow suit.

"Well, what the hell are we waiting for?" I shot out, my voice cracking in the middle of the sentence. Before it was all the way out of my mouth, my dad had the keys, and we were all rushing toward the door.

"Garrett, do you have your cell phone?" Mom asked after we had hopped into the car. The engine was already purring to life, and we had all barely buckled up before Dad had begun his mad race toward the highway.

"Yeah, why?" I asked, digging it out of my pocket. I handed it to her, trying not to see the broken look in her eyes. If I did, dammit, I knew I would break. And I couldn't do that yet. Not as long as there was still a chance. Sage needed our strength.

"Trey."

The one syllable was enough for me to hand her the phone without any more protests. Her muffled voice wavered, and I tried to block it out, along with how fast we were going.

Please, God, let Sage be okay. Let my baby sister be okay.



I had always hated hospitals. I had a feeling deep down in the pit of my stomach that after this, I'd hate them even more. Just the smell of disinfectants and the too-clean whiteness of it all made me sick. And I wasn't even the one they were poking and prodding.

"Sage Nickelsen. Sage Elizabeth Nickelsen. Where is she?" Dad demanded at the nurse's station. A middle aged woman with tired eyes and graying hair looked him over warily, typing at her computer.

"She arrived about half an hour ago, and she's in surgery right now. You can't see her," she stated matter-of-factly.

"She's my daughter, can you at least tell me what's wrong?" he pleaded, and I swore his eyes were watering again.

I couldn't handle this.

I walked outside, fishing my cigarettes from my pocket and lighting one. I wanted nothing more than for this just to be a nightmare. I wanted to wake up on the couch, with some stupid show on the TV, and Sage drawing an elaborate masterpiece on my face in green and pink sharpie, because she never did anything half-assed. Deep in my heart, I knew that wasn't going to happen.

I blinked up at the stars, trying to keep the tears from coming. Sage was still fighting, so would I. I took a drag, blowing smoke up into the air, and watching it billow up, the wind spiraling it.

"Gare," I heard my mom say softly. I quickly dropped my cancer stick and stepped on it, giving her my full attention.

"Is everything alright?" I asked slowly, gaging her expression, trying to read whether or not to panic.

"I don't know," she said honestly, and I sighed. She pulled me close, and I towered over her. Even so, it was comforting.

"We got a little more information from the cops who showed up on scene. The man who hit them was drunk. He was going at least twenty-five over the speed limit, and he barely remembers the accident."

Her voice was hoarse and barely above a whisper. I pulled her closer, and I could feel her tears soaking into my old band tee. Why her? Why Sage?

Suddenly, something in my mother's words struck a chord, and I pulled away, my features even more horrified. How had I not remembered? A tortured, mangled cry escaped my lips.

"Them. Val was in the car, too. They were going to the movies, oh god! Is she at the hospital? Is she..."

I couldn't form the words as I pictured the bright smile. The thought of the two of them covered in blood made my veins run cold. I had been informed of Sage's condition, but no one had said anything about Val.

"All I know is that she wasn't dead at the scene. I didn't even know for sure it was Val with her. None of them can tell me, because she's not blood family!"

Mom looked up at me, tears flooding in her eyes yet again, and I lost it. I pulled her close and cried, for our fear, for our anger, and for all we stood to lose.

"You should get back inside with Dad," I said finally, wiping my eyes with my wrist. Mom nodded, pawing at her damp cheeks. "I'll wait out here for Trey."

"Okay," she murmured, stroking my cheek with her palm. "Come find us soon."

"I will," I promised, and watched her turn through the spotless glass double doors before lighting up again.

~*~

My eyes were sore, my back ached, and I couldn't bring myself to feel anything emotionally as I awoke the next morning on a stiff hospital chair. I looked around and saw both of my parents curled together, and my brother Trey slumped in a corner. The events of last night flooded my brain, and I wanted more than anything to take Sage's place.

I saw an exhausted looking doctor leaning against the entrance of the lounge, watching us with an unreadable expression. I held my breath as I reached over to wake my parents.

"You're Sage's family?" he asked in a business-like voice. I got a weird vibe, and my heart rate picked up.

"Yes," Dad stated, reaching instinctively to grab Mom's hand.

"When the impact occurred, your daughter was right at the epicenter. We had to remove multiple pieces of scrap metal, her liver was lacerated, and she suffered multiple broken and fractured bones." He paused, moving his vision away from us. "The major problem is, she took an major blow to the head. We tried to control the swelling and bleeding, and well, I'm sorry."

"Why? What's wrong with her head?" Trey asked, speaking the first words I'd heard from him since he'd arrived.

"Her brain was severely damaged, and it was too much. She didn't make it."

I felt my whole world pause, and for a moment, nothing felt real. But the doctor's steady voice continued to drone on, and my parent's sobs mixed in the air.

"I'm sorry for your loss," the doctor whispered before slipping from the area.

I slid down in my chair for a minute, trying to take it in. I heard my mom talking about telling the rest of the family, and the word funeral slipped from Dad's lips. He was looking directly at Trey and me, talking about us performing at it. I couldn't take it. Sage couldn't be gone.

I pushed myself out of my chair, concentrating on getting as far away as I could. I couldn't...I couldn't face it. Not Sage; not my baby sister. There was so much life she hadn't lived yet, so many things she was supposed to do.

I wasn't quite sure where I was going, but I found myself leaning against the counter of the nurse's station. A younger, nicer looking woman was sitting behind it, her blond hair pulled into a tight knot. She looked up at me with a sympathetic smile on her face.

I'm sure I looked like hell.

"Can I help you with something?" she asked sweetly, folding her hands on the smooth surface.

"Yeah, uh, I dunno. Could you tell me what room Valentine Jackson is in? She was brought in around nine or ten last night."

I didn't know where the words were coming from, I just knew that they were out in the open, and I couldn't stop them. The nurse clicked on her keyboard and bit on her lip.

"Um, here she is. She's in the ICU," she started, and I took everything in as quickly as I could. I mumbled out a quick thank you and went as fast as I could in the direction the nurse pointed.

I knew immediately it was her room. From the window in the door, I could see her mom fast asleep in a chair beside her, holding on to her hand. From where I stood, I could make out a gauze bandage covering most of her head. Her usually tan skin was a ghost white, and covered with red gashes. I could see a cast around her arm, and I'm sure there was more I couldn't see. I almost couldn't take it.

But god, she was alive. Her chest heaving up and down with some struggle was enough to prove it to me.

"Fancy seeing you here," a sarcastic voice said, and I turned around, seeing Val's father, running a hand through his salt and pepper hair.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Jackson. I wish this wasn't happening," I whispered, turning my eyes back to a rough looking Val.

"Me too. They have her in a medically induced coma or something like that. Sage-"

"Dead," I said shortly, looking down at my feet. I noticed I was wearing two different shoes. It was the least of my problems, though.

"I'm sorry, son," he mumbled softly, placing a hand on my shoulder. I nodded, and his hand landed on the shiny doorknob.

"Do you wanna see Valie?" he asked suddenly, his silver eyes boring into mine.

"It's okay."

"No, really. I have to get Melissa to eat something."

I didn't get a chance to protest. He walked in the room, lightly shaking Mrs. Jackson awake. She was too groggy to protest as he lead her out the door, right past me, and onto the cafeteria. I took a deep breath, debating just turning around and finding my parents.

But I could here Sage in my head. "Don't be an idiot, Gare. Comfort the poor girl! Don't leave her alone in this creepy place."

So I obliged, shuffling forward and sitting where Mrs. Jackson had just been. I felt awkward and out of place, but still, I grabbed her hand, being mindful of the IV. It was almost cool to my touch, but I could feel a weak beat in her wrist. I let out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding.

"Oh, Val," I murmured, bringing my face down to her hand, kissing it gently. "Be okay. Wake up. I- I just can't..."

My voice cut off, and I just sat there in silence, tears streaming down my face, clutching on to Valentine's hand for dear life, watching her rising and falling chest and feeling the soft pulsing of her blood through her veins.

She was alive.