“No, nonono!” The car squeals to a halt. Matt throws the door open. “Get the car back there!” he said to the driver before he started to run towards the crash scene.
Casey was sprawled on the road, unresponsive. One of Casey’s arms was broken, shifting uneasily as he gently took off Casey’s helmet. “You’re going to be okay,” he said.
In the meantime, Terry had backed up the car along the shoulder. “Help me get ’em in the car!” Matt yelled. They pulled Casey into one of the rear seats, while Matt took care to hold his head steady.
I’m in a hospital room, bland and oddly distant. “You really had a number done on you, you know. You’ve been on the knife’s edge of survival for hours.”
That gets a laugh from me, but it peters out into a cough before it leaves my throat.
“You’re lucky someone brought you here. An ambulance wouldn’t have been fast enough to keep you alive.”
His voice fades, and then the rest of the world follows.
The rest of the hospital visit passes easily, nothing remarkable happening until Mick arrives to take me home.
“Hey Casey. Back among the living, I see,” Mick says with a grin and a hug.
“Missed you too,” I say into his shoulder, with a wince as the splint digs into my skin. “I’m tougher than I look.”
“…and I’m grateful for that. If you hadn’t pulled through, I don’t know…” Mick trails off and pulls the hug closer. “But I don’t want to dwell on that. C’mon, let’s get you home.”
Mick guides me through the hospital. My legs are sore from a week of disuse, but only sore. The whirlwind of the busy hallways that I’m passing through fades away from me.
“Don’t worry about being on call,” Mick says as he helps me into the passenger seat. “Take whatever time off you need, as long as it takes. They’ve cleared you for paid leave, basically forever. And don’t you dare think you’ve got a responsibility to recover fast—” he continues. “I know how you think.”