Nothing.

"Grab his foot," he grunted. Alyssa's hands shook as she struggled to get his legs out. She could feel glass grinding into her knees and blood trickle down her leg as she tried to get a better angle. Her mouth dropped in astonishment. No wonder John couldn't get him out, his legs were pinned between the foot pedals.

"His legs are crushed!" she cried.

"Obviously! Just get them out!"

Twisting his leg to the left and right, Alyssa grabbed the denim and yanked, trying to shimmy him out. Another tug, a pull to the left, a tug and a pull to the right and Jace's limp body was finally released.

Hooking an arm under Jace's knees and one under his neck, John stumbled in the grass with the one hundred and eighty pound body in his arms, but he didn't let go. Alyssa helped as he gently laid Jace on a clear patch of grass in front of John's truck.

In the distance, red lights flickered and sirens screamed, but they didn't register. John stared down at the bloody face that was his best friend.

John cupped the sides of his neck as he desperately searched for a pulse. He grabbed the collar of his shirt and ripped it in half. He watched for the telltale sign of a breathing chest, but he was too frantic to spot it. And as much as his headlights were helping him, they were also blinding him.

"Save him, Johnny," Alyssa cried in agony.

"I'm tryin', honey."

Pinching Jace's nose and tilting his jaw up, John breathed into his friend's mouth. "Come on, Jace. Come back to us. I need you," he said as he layered his hands together and started pressing up and down under his breastbone, feeling his ribs crunching under the necessary force.

Nothing.

"Come on, Jace. Wake up!" he yelled a little louder this time.

Two heavy gulps of air and thirty hand compressions.

Nothing.

"Fuck man," his voice began to crack, his eyes teared up. "Wake the fuck up and open your damn eyes. Please!"

Two more heavy gulps of air and another set of hand compressions.

Nothing.

"Look at me! Wake up, Jace!" he yelled in anguish. "Don't go out like this!" John began shaking Jace in an effort to wake him up any way he could. He yelled and screamed, pulling him, anything for him to open his eyes.

"Move back!" the paramedic ordered. But John was in complete shock and couldn't move as he watched his friend's unresponsive body on the grass. Someone cupped their hands under his armpits and yanked him back.

The fuck . . .

Alyssa. She was the one who shuffled him back. Looking over, the poor girl was hunched over and on her knees. Alyssa was crying into her lap, her back vibrating with each wale. She peeked up and his heart broke for her.

"Alyssa . . ." his voice cracked. Alyssa crashed into him and held on for dear life, squeezing his neck tightly.

John sat back, legs spread on the grass and covered in Jace's blood as the paramedic tried frantically to resituate Jace. He held on to Alyssa as life passed before his eyes. Mud fights, bonfires, family gatherings, Christmas parties, endless nights of laughter, girls, girls, and more girls. It all played in his mind like a giant blurry movie.

He and Jace in second grade on the playground.

Their mothers forcing them to join Cub Scouts, learning CPR basics but never thinking he'd have to use it on his best friend.

Food fights in the cafeteria.

Getting purposely kicked out of Cub Scouts.

Sleepovers.

Them entering sixth grade, thinking they were all hot and shit and meeting Ford.

Entering high school together . . . fresh meat.

Sneaking out of the house.

Freshman pep rally. Cheerleaders. All the girls . . .

Prom.

High school graduation.

College.

Too many events passed before his eyes, so many memories that he could not sort out. It had always been the three of them. They had been like brothers they were so close.

While the paramedics tried to work their magic, John knew he was at fault for Jace's accident. Had he not had Alyssa call him, they would be at his house by now.

Pulling Alyssa's face back, he kissed her tears away. She was hurting just as much as he was.

Hospitals are always such frigidly, sad places. The happy pictures mounted on the walls, with lake side images, representing happy days full of sunshine and fun were nothing but a lie. Cold, leather blue chairs, connected at the legs, took up most of the space in the waiting room. A muted television hung in the corner, subtitles running across the lower screen. Fake smiles dazzled the nurses' faces when they made eye contact, but he could see right through them. It was such a deceiving environment that it made his skin itch.

Next to him sat Alyssa. She was his rock tonight. His girl. She stood strong while he was suffering inside.

Alyssa squeezed his hand giving him support, but John didn't have the strength to squeeze it back. He was utterly empty inside.

Alone.

Vacant.

Not a feeling left to give.

No one in the hospital could possibly be thinking of days with endless sun. Not a chance. And if they were, they were flat out liars. In reality, their moments were full of gray clouded skies with unknown answers swirling in the air. Misery. Open ended questions. No one knew what lay beyond those walls. Seconds ticked by, turning to minutes, turning to hours.

Time passed them by.

A quick glance down at the phone and that's all it took for his world to change.

If he blinked his eyes, it would have been over. And thinking back on it, he wished he had because the images replaying in his head would forever be seared into his brain. He'd do anything to erase them.

How did this happen?

Letting go of her hand, John bent foward. His elbows rested on his knees while his hands cupped his face. He prayed. Begged for a miracle. John bartered to cut his own life short if it meant Jace got to live. Please, dear God, let Jace be okay.

As if God was listening, a doctor in blue scrubs strode forward. Specs of blood coated his uniform, and he looked absolutely exhausted.

Ice cold dread filled John's veins. Shaking off the goose bumps that coated his skin, John stood.

"Evening son. I'm Dr. Ortega. Are you the ones that were with Jace McConnell tonight?"

"Yes, sir."

"Are you family?"

"Not by blood, but he's like a brother to me."

His eyes skated around the room. "Are his parents here tonight?"

"His mom is on her way. We don't live in town, but she should be here very soon. Is Jace going to be okay?"

The doctor rolled his lips between his teeth, flattening them. His gaze wavered to the floor. "I'm sorry, but I must speak with his mother first."

"Just tell me this, is he alive?"

Sympathy weighed heavily in his tired eyes and John feared the worst. Jace was no longer alive. He knew out on the street that Jace was gone, but seeing it in the doctor's eyes confirmed it. The waiting room grew small, his vision turning into a long narrow tunnel. John began breathing heavily, emotions rolling up and taking over. No . . . this can't be happening . . .

Tears welled in his eyes. This can't be happening.

The sound of sliding doors drew John's attention. Jace's mother, Maryanne, rushed toward him, her eyes wide and frantic.

"John! Have you heard anything?"

John shook his head. "No. The doctor won't tell me anything because I'm not related by blood."

"Nonsense!"

"Ma'am. I'm Dr. Ortega. I'm one of the doctors who assisted tonight."

"How is he?"

"How about we take a seat somewhere private?"

John wrapped a strong arm around Maryanne. She was crumbling before the doctor had hardly spoken a word. "Just give me something," she began shaking her head hysterically.

Dr. Ortega turned around and began proceeding to his office forcing them to follow him. "Follow me to my office, please."

John glanced over his shoulder to where Alyssa was sitting. She wiped her red-rimmed eyes. Her cheeks were pink and her nose swollen from crying. He wanted to hold her and wipe away her tears. He needed her as much as she needed him, but right now Maryanne was his top concern. With a small nod of his head and a tight lipped frown, he followed the doctor.

Dr. Ortega opened the door and once inside, he handed Maryanne a few tissues. She took a deep breath and wiped the tears from the corner of her eyes. He looked to the ground, grief written all over his face. He didn't have to say a word. It was written in his eyes.

"Nooooo . . ." she wailed, falling into John's chest. Her cry was pure agony, splitting right through John. He felt her pain, her loss, her suffering. Maryanne's emotions poured out of her as her sobs grew louder. She could hardly catch her breath as she clung to John's bloody t-shirt. Jace had been her only child, and his best friend. Listening to his best friend's mother cry her heart out brought tears to his own eyes. Tears he fought to keep in but wouldn't let out. He had to be strong for her.

Jace was gone.

Dead.

A life cut short. All because they got a little too reckless one night.

They thought they were on top of the world, kings that no one could touch in their small town. Little did they know, they were just pawns in the grand scheme of things because when death came knocking, it didn't matter who you were or what you did, death took who it wanted. When it was your time to go, that was it. You could fight it all you want, but you don't have a choice. They say only the good die young, and it was true. Jace was one of the good onesa great friend and the perfect son for his mother who struggled. But he didn't have a leg to stand on when his truck wrapped around that tree. He probably died instantly.

"Mrs. McConnell . . ."

"What . . ." she choked, gasping for air. "Please. Tell me what happened. I want to know it all." She begged, her voice shaky.

Clearing his throat, Dr. Ortega nodded. "Alright. This is never easy to do. As much as I love my job, times like these are when I wish I had chosen another career. When Jace was brought in, he was covered in blood. So much that we didn't know where it was coming from. His pulse was low, he was hardly breathing. After running diagnostic tests, we were able to tell that the blood was coming from multiple places in his body, one being his chest, the other his brain. He must have banged it on the windshield, but the EMT wasn't sure since Jace was unconscious."

"The windshield was cracked when I got to him," John said quietly.

Dr. Ortega nodded slowly. "Thought so. With his head injury, we assumed he wasn't wearing a seat belt."

John looked at the ground. "He wasn't."

The doctor took a deep breath. "With that being said, Jace had quite a few surgeries in a short amount of time. He had a tear in his liver and one in a valve to his heart. We were able to repair both and those should heal just fine. By some God given miracle, he's breathing and in recovery."

"Wha . . ." she stammered, blinking rapidly. "What? He's alive? His heart was injured?"

John shivered in his chair, the hair on his arms rising at the sudden unexpected news. He was covered in goose bumps, a cold sweat breaking out. Jace . . . was alive? Hope trickled through his veins. Please . . .

Dr. Ortega nodded with firm, tight lips. "We placed him in a medically induced coma, but yes, he is breathing with help, Mrs. McConnell," he sighed tiredly. "We implanted an ICP into his skull which is a device to monitor the pressure on his brain. It should be able to come out in about two days, hopefully. After that, the ventilator can be removed, but it all depends on your son. Every patient is different, so I can't give you a definitive answer on how everything should play out. The fact that he is alive right now is almost unheard of, but it gives me hope. If he wakes up from this, he'll have a long road of recovery ahead of him. I suggest calling family and loved ones and letting them know of his condition. Your son needs rest, and until he's out of ICU, I'd rather he not have many visitors."

Maryanne looked down into her hands. "You're looking at his family, doctor," she said quietly. "His father took off once Jace was born and we never saw him again. It's always been just me and my boy."

John hugged her to him, giving her support through his touch. A small sob escaped her, breaking him open inside. How could this be happening?

"We're extremely concerned about his brain activity. All I can say is pray. Pray for your son because he's going to need a miracle. In a couple of days when the swelling goes down, should it go down quickly, and he is taken out of the coma, we'll run more tests to see what kind of state he's in. I don't want to give you false hope, but pray."

Maryanne grabbed a few more tissues and wiped the new tears that had fallen down her cheeks. "Can I see him?" she asked, her voice heightened with hope.

"You can, but he's in ICU so you can only stay fifteen minutes and then you'll have to leave. I'm sure you'll want to stay in the hospital, so I'll make sure you have some blankets in the waiting room. Once you finish with your visit, I need you to come back to my office so we can go over wavers."

She nodded and stood, grabbing John's hand. "Come on, John."

Dr. Ortega looked at John. "Are you sure you're up to see this?"

No, he wasn't, but what choice did John have? He never wanted to see his best friend hooked up to IV's and monitors, but it wasn't about him right now-it was about Maryanne and what she needed. If Maryanne needed him to see her one and only son in ICU, then he would be there for her. So he was going to suck it up and deal with it later. After all, if the positions were reversed, Jace would do it for him.

The doctor placed a hand on Maryanne's arm. "I need to advise you that aside from the implantation, your son is bandaged and hooked up to many devices. There are wires crisscrossing, tubes placed in multiple places on his body and machines lit up. Prepare yourself."

Jesus Christ. Taking the deepest breath he could, John exhaled and cracked his neck. He sure as hell wasn't ready for this, but then whoever was? He was jittery, and his heart pounded against his ribs so hard he thought it was going to pop out. The walk to Jace's room felt like forever as they followed Dr. Ortega down the quiet, low lit hallway. Anxiety was bubbling inside of him and he could only imagine what the woman next to him felt.

Stopping in front of the glass with internal blinds, the doctor turned and said to both of them, "Remember, you only have fifteen minutes. No more."