For Lola
This is a fic I wrote for Lola, but never finished. I doubt I'll finish it now, but thought I'd post it anyway :) It doesn't even have a title XD
Title:
Rating: PG-15
Characters: Claire/Ray, Lola/Walt
A/N: Written for Lola- Get well soon!
fhghj
Claire swept the floor, eyes focused on the growing pile of dust it created. Her hands were gripping the broom tight and her lips were a thin line. Ray watched her from the other side of the room, sat on the sofa with a cigarette burning softly between his lips. ‘She’s going to be okay,’ he finally said.
Claire looked up at him, annoyance easily read in her features. ‘You don’t know that.’
‘The Doctors said-’
‘They said there’s a fifty-fifty chance, Ray. ‘
‘They said that it could improve over these next few nights.’
‘And what if it doesn’t?’ Claire snapped, letting the broom fall with a clatter to the floor. ‘What if... what if...’
Ray was instantly on his feet, coming to pull Claire into his chest. ‘Sssh,’ he murmured, kissing the top of her head. ‘It’s going to be okay. She’s going to be okay.’
‘She’s my best friend,’ sobbed Claire, burying her face into Ray’s chest. ‘I don’t know what I’d do without Lola. I don’t know what I’d do.’
Three days earlier.
Claire opened her eyes, hissed in pain and shut them tightly again. Where was she? She could hear sirens in the distance and a strong smell of gasoline.
Her head hurt. What had happened? She shifted and then cried out as a sheering pain shot through her arm. Shards of glass were embedded in her hand and face. She could taste blood. Claire shifted slightly, looking across. Ray was slumped in the seat. Blood dripped from his brow.
Claire screamed. Now she remembered. They’d be driving; her, Walt, Ray and Lola. Heading back home after having dinner with Ray’s boss. Her and Ray had been arguing. Yeah, and he’d taken his eyes off the road and then they’d been skidding, hitting the barrier and the car had tumbled over and over and over into blackness.
‘Ma’am?’ Claire looked up. A fireman knelt by the wreckage of the car. ‘Try not to move-’
‘Help them. Please, help them. Why aren’t they moving?’ Claire sobbed. The fireman glanced at the others, as another one approached behind him.
‘It doesn’t look good,’ he murmured, looking back at Claire. Claire squeezed her eyes shut. No, no this wasn’t happening, this couldn’t be happening. Soon, she’d wake up and they’d be pulling up outside the apartment and she’d laugh it all off as a bad dream.
It had to be a bad dream. It was too unreal to be reality.
--
Claire sat on the bed, staring at her hands. They were still shaking. She felt sick and her head hurt. Her arm was in a sling and it still hurt, but none of that mattered because of the news she;d just received.
‘Claire, look at me,’ Ray said; he had stitches in his brow and a bruise on his jaw. Walt was standing by the window, body stiff, staring out.
Lola was in a coma. Tonight was vital. Tonight would let the doctors know whether she was going to live or die.
‘I need some air,’ she finally said, getting stiffly off the bed and moving out the room. Ray grabbed her hand.
‘Talk to me.’
‘Get off.’ She shook him off and left the ward. Ray sighed, running a hand over his face. Fuck. Walt turned to him. He looked pale and drawn. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. He didn’t know what to say. Couldn’t even form words on how he felt, on... on the possibility of losing Lola.
‘She’s not going to die,’ Ray said, sounding more like he was trying to reassure himself. Walt forced himself to nod, though at the back of his mind, the doctor’s words still whirled around his mind. There’s a fifty-fifty chance Lola will survive. It all depends on whether she responds to the medicine. You need to be prepared for the worst, Mr. Hasser.
Prepare for the worse? It had taken Walt all he had not to punch the doctor. He couldn’t be without Lola. Walt exhaled and turned back to look out the window. Lola’s family were flying out from Ireland in the next hour. Jason would be here soon with Amy.
He couldn’t help, but think the worst.
--
Claire sat on the wall outside the hospital, taking a deep drag on her cigarette. Her eyes were red rimmed and sore, hands still trembling. Every now and then, someone would walk past and ask if she was alright.
‘I’m fine,’ she’d always tell them, even though she wasn’t. She wasn’t fine, she couldn’t even imagine how anyone could be fine right now. Her best friend was strapped to some monitor, comatose. Claire hoped she wasn’t in pain. It wasn’t fair.
Why Lola? It was Claire who’d been arguing with Ray. It was Claire who’d distracted the driver, not Lola. Oh, god, it was all her fault.
Claire sank her face into her hands. Her chest felt tight, like she couldn’t breathe. If Lola died, this would be on her and she’d never be able to forgive herself.
--
Claire glared angrily across at Ray, arms folded over her chest. ‘Why do you have to be such a dick all the time?’
‘I’m not being a dick, that girl started talking to me, not the other way around.’
‘You were all over her, Ray. Did you forget I was there or something?’
‘C’mon, you two,’ Lola sighed. ‘It’s late.’
‘No, he can’t just get away with flirting with some trampy bleach blond whore in front of me,’ snapped Claire. Lola and Walt exchanged glances in the back, but said nothing.
‘I was just talking!’ growled Ray, slamming his palm on the steering wheel. ‘I knew her from school, we were just catching up.’
‘She was your ex, Ray. And you offered to take her home!’
‘Because she didn’t have a lift.’
‘I’m sure she could have just opened her legs for any guy there and gotten a lift.’
‘Stop being so fucking immature,’ he muttered, glaring out the windscreen. ‘It wasn’t like I was going to do anything with her.’
‘Oh, but you thought about it, didn’t you?’
Ray looked across at her, eyebrows drawn together in a frown. ‘Claire, for god sake, if I wanted to run off into the sunset with Amber, I would have, wouldn’t I? You’re being fucking stupid-’
‘Ray!’ Lola screamed, but it was too late. The car hurtled into the barrier with a crash, flipping over and over as it rolled down the slope, glass shattering, before it came to a standstill.
--
Lola made it through the night. Walt sat by her bedside the entire time with her family crowding the room. There was a big sigh of relief when the doctor returned and told them that she was responding well to the treatment.
She now had a seventy-two percentage survival rate. He clutched her hand, murmuring softly to her, willing for her to wake up. Needing her to wake up.
Later that afternoon, Claire’s boss, Mandy bought in the children. Walt and Lola’s daughter, Alex sat on the bed, looking imploringly at her mother. Ray and Claire’s son, George, hugged close to Ray’s legs.
‘Where’s mommy?’ he asked, looking up. Ray couldn’t answer, because he didn’t know. She’d been gone since last night; she’d come in, kissed Lola on the brow and then left with Jason and Amy. Her phone was turned off and he couldn’t get hold of Jason either.
He was worried, to say the least.
‘Walt.’ It was Lola’s father, Jimmy. He placed a hand on the blond’s shoulder. ‘Let’s go for a coffee. You haven’t left that chair in a few hours.’
‘But-’
‘Drinks on me,’ he insisted. After a moment’s hesitation, Walt got to his feet.
‘Get me if she wakes up,’ he told Ray, before following Jimmy out the private room.