LPfiction

Category Linkin Park

Through Eyes of Sympathy by Ice Queen

Blinded by the Light

Through Eyes of Sympathy

Author: Ice Queen

Description: Vision lost, feeling gone, all replaced by the guilt of harm to others.

Genre: Drama/Angst

Rating: PG

Created on: 2005-02-01

Chapter: 1 - Blinded By the Light


Blind hands grip the railing of the bed, finger’s curling around the cold metal provided to restrain the movements of the occupant. The sound of the door clicking open causes attention to focus on the sudden noise, fingers reluctant to let go as the hand is held out, barely able to feel the cotton material brushing against his palm from the man standing nearby. A calm hand grabs the shaking, damaged one, and holds it gently in their own, the new presence in the room stepping closer to raise his free hand to the moistened cheek.


“The doctor’s going to release you from the hospital after a final check today, but he wants you to come back in a few days to have the burns checked out to make sure an infection hasn‘t developed or you‘re feeling any unnecessary pain. I‘ve set up the spare room at my home for you to stay in, and we can go by later to pick up some stuff from you house, get some extra clothes and whatnot.”


The voice is just a whisper, the owner of it knowing that when you lose one of your senses all others become heightened, but when you lose two of your senses…


“I want to go to my home, I just want to be left alone.”


“Rob-”


“I deserve to be alone after all of this. Please, just take me home, I can find my way after that.”


Tears come harder as the other man lowers the railing and sits on the edge of the bed, wrapping his arms around the drummer’s body and holding him tight against his own. Rob tries to push him away and free himself from the older man‘s grasp, but the third degree burns on his hands prevent him from using them much without the threat of consequences, pain jolting through his entire body as he finally gives up and falls into the man’s embrace.


“They said he’ll be okay Rob. He won’t be released from the ICU for at least another week, but it’s just to let the graft’s heal and to make sure he doesn’t get an infection. It’s very vital that he’s constantly monitored to make sure nothing’s wrong.”


“You don’t think I feel bad enough for what I’ve done, what I’ve caused? You have to reiterate how much damage I‘ve inflicted on one of my best friends?”


“Rob, don’t do this again, let’s just get home so we can both get some well needed rest.”


“I don’t want to go home with you, I don’t even want you near me. You’ve been coming here every day for the past week trying to make me feel better about all of this and it’s not working. Brad’s still laying in a fucking hospital bed with burns covering most of his body and it’s all my fault, I was the one being reckless and I don’t want you to try and sugar coat things for me. They all hate me, I get that, don’t go around trying to convince me that my life is going to be fucking peaches once I leave this room.”


The door opens at the peak of the escalating argument, Rob turning away and laying on his side facing the wall, using the bandage on his arms to wipe away the streaming tears. Whispers are heard near the doorway, the two familiar voices talking in a hushed tone as Rob attempts to feel around on the nightstand, picking up a writing pen and digging it into the numb but slightly tingling feeling of his palm. The sudden presence of warm liquid trailing down the inside of his forearm sends a violent shiver down his spine, his other hand wiping at his face as the tears come harder than before.


“Phoenix!”


“Fuck.”


The drummer’s body jolts suddenly as Dave grabs his shoulders and pulls him onto his back, Rob trying with his limited amount of strength to fight the older man before falling hard onto the tiled floor. A loud cry of pain escapes his chapped lips followed by another round of tears, his body going limp as the bassist grabs the pen from his hand and gives it to the other man in the room.


“Maybe he should stay here just a little longer Dave, I really don’t think he’s stable enough to go out just yet.”


Joe’s voice is soft as he kneels next to the two men on the ground, his hand reaching out and wiping at the receding tears on the drummer’s flushed face. He knows this is only the rocky beginning of a very rough future, the drummer’s depression seeming to plummet more every day.


Brad will always have scars from the burns and the surgeries, but he’ll recover; he’ll eventually be able to play guitar again after a bit of physical therapy. Rob’s injuries are much more extensive, more permanent. He’s lost his vision in both eyes, ninety percent of the nerve endings in his hands are permanently damaged from the fire, preventing him from really feeling anything with them.


Joe continuously tries to convince himself to be like the others and blame Rob and hate him for what he’s done to Brad and the rest of the band, but then he sees the injuries and the long term damage to the younger man, and he ends up just like Dave, wanting to do anything he possibly can to help the younger man through what’s happening physically and emotionally.


“I’ll talk to the doctor about keeping him here just a few more days, I’m just worried about his deteriorating emotional state. Each day he gets more depressed and angry with himself about the accident and Brad. Maybe if we transfer him and get him away from the others he’ll do a little better, but as of now, every time the door opens he fears it’s going to be one of the other guys coming to yell at him, or something worse.”


Dave rocks Rob’s unconscious form gently against his body as he speaks quietly, his head turning slightly to the side as the door opens again and the doctor enters quickly, rushing over to the group of men when he sees them around Rob on the floor.


“What happened to him, why didn’t someone call me?”


A hint of anger gleams in the doctor’s eyes, but his attention is more focused on his injured patient as he kneels down next to Rob’s unconscious body, Joe moving out of the way when the doctor begins taking the drummer’s vital signs.


“Joe and I were standing by the door talking and Rob tried to stab his hand with a pen. When I was trying to calm him down he fell out of the bed and went limp in my arms a few seconds later.”


“Did he hit his head when you were struggling or when he fell? How long has he been unconscious like this?”


Dr. Edwards carefully forces Rob’s eyelids apart before shinning a small pen light in them to make sure the pupils react in a correct manner. He pulls the drummer’s body forward after Dave answers his previous question, listening intently to the breath sounds from the back before picking up the limp hand that’s resting on the cold floor.


He removes the bandage from around the younger man’s wound, realizing that it’s only a small puncture after assessing the course of the small line of blood on the pale skin. He stands back up after placing the hand in Rob’s lap, helping Dave as they place the drummer back on the bed and pull the blanket over his body, making sure Rob’s still unresponsive before turning away.


“The cut’s not that bad, nothing a Band-Aid can’t help, but I think I’ll move his discharge date back for a few days to be on the safe side. I want him to be seen by the resident psychologist again to make sure he’s okay to go home without the threat of anymore self harm.”


“I was hoping that maybe we can have him transferred to a different hospital as of today. There’s nothing wrong with the care here, we were just thinking that with the victim of the incident being in the same hospital, it might help him adjust a little more emotionally with his injuries and everything that’s happened.”


“I understand what you’re worried about Mr. Farrell, but I really think it’s best that he stay here to receive the care he needs. I know there’s tension between you three and your other friends upstairs, but moving him might do more harm than good. He should be here only for a few more days to assess his progression, and there’s no reason to spend thousands of more dollars to move him to another hospital for such a short period of time. The psychologist should be up to see him in just a few hours, and once he’s done with his evaluation of the patient, I’ll use his findings to decide whether it’s safe for Mr. Bourdon to go home, or to a more extensive recovery facility.”


Joe’s body stiffens at the last few words that leave the doctor‘s mouth, knowing exactly what he means by a “more extensive recovery facility”. There are speculations from several people that saw the accident who say what the drummer did was on purpose in an attempt to end his own life or Brad’s, but only the drummer and the guitarist know exactly what happened that almost caused both men to lose their lives. Brad hasn’t been able to recall anything from the accident since he woke up in ICU two days ago, and Rob hasn’t said anything to anyone, keeping the secret locked up until Brad’s able to remember.


Rob slowly begins to move his head on the pillow, moaning softly as his eyebrows furrow. He steadily comes out of his bout with unconsciousness and opens his eyes just a slit, everyone watching him closely, the drummer slowly reaching his hand out to the side and trying to feel for Dave.


After a moment of watching him and seeing the tears begin to build in his frantic eyes, Dave steps over to Rob and grabs his outstretched hand, the drummer pulling him close to his body and smelling his cologne to make sure it’s the right person. He whispers ‘I’m sorry’ to him repeatedly in a hushed tone, burying his face in the bassists neck and moistening the skin.


“I’ll have a nurse come bandage his hand back up, and I’ll send the psychologist up to see him after he’s finished his rounds. Make sure you inform me right away if anything else happens instead of trying to take care of things on your own.”


The doctor talks quietly to Joe instead of interrupting the two other men, the DJ shaking the older man’s hand before turning his attention back to Rob and Dave once the doctor’s gone. He apprehensively walks over to the two men and rubs the drummer’s arm, pulling his hand back when Rob pushes himself away from the sudden touch.


“Rob, calm down it’s only Joe… will you be okay if he sits with you for a few minutes while I go get some air?”


A moment passes before the drummer almost unnoticeably nods his head, Dave peeling himself from the younger man’s body as Joe takes his place.


The bassist leaves the room and walks down the hallway with his hands in his pockets, not really in the mood to venture downstairs where he knows a few scarce reporters are still waiting for a good view of any of the band members. He’s been with Rob since the younger man was brought in with third degree burns to his hands and chemical burns to his cornea’s, since Brad was brought in unconscious with a good deal of skin burned off his upper body.


He was split when he heard what happened, unsure of who to go to, but after seeing the way Mike was reacting, and the doctor telling him that Rob would never see again or be able to feel anything with his hands, he immediately rushed to Rob, cursing himself for ever trying to decide.


It’s not that Mike and Chester hate Rob, it’s that Mike is so close to Brad and after hearing what happened and that Rob was the cause of it, he isn’t exactly happy with him right now. Everyone needs to calm down and take a deep breath, but being in this hospital isn’t going to help anyone.


Dave steps onto the elevator and presses the button for the floor just above him, his back resting against the wall as he lets his eyes close for the brief amount of time that it takes him to go up. When the doors open, he hesitates for a moment before stepping off, passing by the familiar nurses and stopping by the glass door that leads to the ICU room, leaning against it and looking in it at the two men.


“He was asking for you.”


Dave jumps as Chester suddenly appears behind him holding a cup of Starbucks, his eyes glancing into the room at the still figure in the bed before returning to Dave, resting his hand on the bassists shoulder as he takes a sip.


“I’m afraid to leave Rob alone. Whether or not he really caused this on purpose, he’s still my friend and he really needs someone right now. The doctor said the chances of him playing again are slim to none, although he doesn’t even care about that. The only time he opens his mouth is to say he’s sorry, or tell me to leave because he wants to be left alone.”


“Mike still cares about him, that won’t change no matter what happens. He went down earlier this morning to go see him, he got right in front of the door, then he panicked. He ran right back up here almost in tears telling me he just couldn‘t do it. Time, it’s going to become our new best friend; just give it time.”


Chester pushes the door open before Dave can respond and walks into the room, the bassist remaining in his spot as he and Mike’s eyes suddenly meet. He takes a step back when Mike stands up and slowly walks over to the door, an awkward silence held between them before the next words are said just above a whisper.


“Brad wants to see Rob.”

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