A whirlwind of emotions shatter through him, but yet he feels empty. He doesn't feel the pain of anything other than the hollow feeling she has left him feeling. His heart is beating quickly as he sits and watches her face, emotionless. She's completely blank and he's completely blank in return. There is no emotion on her beautiful face, and he can't understand how that is remotely possible. He doesn't understand how a woman that lit up a room when she entered it can have a face that is now just blank. He just doesn't understand how she's not smiling back at him, her green eyes twinkling in the flourescent lighting. He just doesn't understand. He can't understand. He won't understand it, ever. The only thing he understands is that he's sorry, for what he has no clue, but he just knows that he is utterly and completely sorry for something, for everything.
He leans forward in his chair, the tiny springs squeaking softly under him, and interlocks their hands, and yet her face still remains dull and lifeless when his gaze falls upon it. He reaches a finger up to her cheek and drags it lightly down her face, and she doesn't even move, doesn't acknowledge that he's even there. He can feel the tears welling up in the back of his eyes and he inhales a few breaths to fight them back, but in the end, he ends up losing as the tears stream down his cheeks. He flops back against the chair and lifts his now shaking hands up to his face. The only sounds in the room are his uncontrollable sobs and the soft hum of the lights above with the occasional beep of a machine and the hiss of the oxygen compressor on the wall. He can't take this anymore. He can't take her not responding to him, it's just too hard to deal with. He can't take the silence from her or the annoyingly soft sounds in the hospital room, he just can't take the dull, empty feeling his has in the pit of his stomach. With a huge sigh, and a chocked out sob as he leans down to kiss her cheek, he walks out of the room, running his fingers through his hair as he walks out through the double doors and takes in a few shaky breaths, trying to get control over his emotions. He pushes the double doors open with a frustrated grunt and is met with his four best friends. Justin, Chris, Joey and Lance race to his side and pace beside him in the waiting room as he fights this battle. They've been there the entire six days with him. Two of them stay while the other two rest and then they switch off, just as long as someone's always there with him. He's grateful for them, although he hasn't told them that yet, but he is, and he will tell them that when this is all over. He'll tell them that had they not been there he wouldn't have made it through this mess.
JC sits down on one of the couches and drops his head into his hands as he sobs openly in front of everyone. He just can't do this anymore. He can't take the machines, the tubes, the doctors or nurses, or the low buzzing from the overhead lights. He just can't, he has to leave. And now was as good of time as any. He stands up and quickly walks down the hall, telling the guys to stay put, he just needs some air and will be back in an hour. He walks out the revolving doors and jumps in his Jeep and speeds off towards the ocean. Ryanne had loved the ocean. He always took her there on the nights that they wanted peace and quiet. They would sit in the sand, her between his legs leaning back against him, and he would hold her tightly as they watched the waves come in and go out in silence. It had all been perfect. He sped to the beach, hoping that when he got there, everything would still be perfect.
He slammed on his breaks and threw the car in park as he turns the key and reaches over on the floorboard and gets his journal and a pen and starts his walk down to the beach. He kicks his shoes off and walks a little, letting the sand filter through his toes and he sighs, contently, as he sits down at the water's edge and stares out into the dark ocean. The breeze is warm and comforting and the salty smell of the ocean is soothing and for the first time in almost a week, he smiles.
He opens his journal after a few minutes of relaxing and thinks about what to write. There is so much going on in his head that he can't even form a straight thought. He stares at the white paper for a long period before letting the pen drop to the paper and letting his mind do the writing.
'Dear God~
I'm sorry......for what exactly I don't know, but all I know is that I am sorry.'
That's all that he could think of to write. He looks up towards the heavens and tears stream down his cheeks as he holds up his journal towards the sky, hoping that God would be up there reading what he'd written. He is sorry. He is sorry for everything. All he wants is to have Ryanne back, smiling in his arms, that is all. He stands up and waves his hands at the sky violently, "I'm sorry. Do you hear me? I'm so sorry. Please don't take her away from me, please," he begs through his choked out sobs. He looks up at the sky once more with his wettened cheeks, "Do you hear me? I said I'm sorry."
He drops his journal into the sand and sobbed into his hands as he begged for her to be all right. She was laying in the hospital bed, hooked up to life support because some stupid, irresponsible driver had ran a red light and crashed into her car. She was on her way to see him. She had flown back out to LA after a video shoot and he'd cooked dinner for her, lit candles around the pool and had a fine wine, chilling in ice. He had everything planned, it was going to be the most perfect evening they'd had so far. And it was going to be a special night because he'd planned to ask her hand in marriage. They'd been together for three years and he knew that she was his match, the one that made his heart race at every sight and thought of her, the one that completed his soul and made him a whole person. He'd been so mad when she hadn't called or shown up after an hour that he'd thrown the TV remote across the room, shattering one of his favorite vases. He'd called her a few choice words, ones that he wished he could take back after finding out the reason for her not showing up for their date, but at the time, he had no clue. He hadn't talked to her personally for the three days of her shoot, and she'd kind of left on a sour note. They'd fought before her flight out, but they'd apologized to each other via voicemails and she had planned to return back home after the shoot.
The police had phoned him three hours later and JC had dropped to the floor, unable to move or breath as the officer informed him of the accident. He was lucky that Justin had come over to check on him because he'd called Justin earlier to blow off some steam since Ryanne hadn't called or shown up. Justin had called a few times, but since he got no answer, he had decided to check on JC to make sure that he was okay. Justin had picked him up off the ground and drove him to the hospital where Ryanne had undergone emergency surgery. The doctors have all told him and her family that the chances that she pull through would be slim, but they were going to do everything they could.
And now he was here. Six days later and she still wasn't responding to anything. She wasn't responding to him and that hit him the hardest. She'd always shivered under his touch, and he loved that. He loved that he could touch her, anywhere, and a slight chill would travel down her spine and she'd look up at him with adoring eyes and a smile that made his heart stop. 'A touch of an angel....my angel,' she'd said to him every time he'd tease her about it. But if he was her angel, then why wasn't she responding to him now?
He didn't know how long he'd been out there, but he knew he had to get back, so he grabbed his shoes and took off for the car, leaving his journal on the beach, his apology scribbled across the white page still staring up at the sky. He walks slowly back to the waiting room and the guys all jump up, "We've been trying to call you," Justin smiles excitedly. He looks at Justin, confused, as he wipes the last trace of tears off his cheeks. "She responded." His eyes dart up to Justin's and those two words echo through his ears over and over again. And all of the sudden, he can't move, his legs won't work. He heard his name being called and looks in the direction of the voice and found her youngest brother waving for him to come. Justin had to practically carry him to the doorway and once there, his legs begin to work again as he was met with her eyes fluttering open and closed. His heart stopped, he knew it, he felt it, but it started back up quickly. His breath hitches in his throat as her eyes focus on his. His bottom lip was trembling, his knees locked and he felt like he was going to burst.
After a few minutes, one of the doctors steps aside to let JC step up to her side and Ryanne follows him with her eyes. He reaches down and interlocks their fingers and leans over to brush a few stray strands of her auburn hair off her forehead before placing a feather light kiss on her soft skin. He leans his forehead down against hers and smiles, as he let out a relieved sigh. She squeezes his fingers lightly and tears spring to his eyes again as he looks up to the ceiling, "Thank you," he mumble to God, before turning his eyes back down to hers, and watching her eyes close again, this time in sleep. He looks around the room at her family and friends. Tears were being shed, but these were tears of relief, tears of hope and although he knew that this was just the beginning and there was a long road until recovery, he smiles, big and bright and true, because now he was confident that things would turn out fine.