Chapter Text
Ryland hadn't responded to him in weeks. Colt figured he'd done something to upset his twin in some way, seeing as that wasn't all that uncommon of him to manage. Yet, in this moment there was no one he wanted to hear from more than his birth-given clone.
Colt Seavers, stunt double extraordinaire, had just had a massive accident, and with gone multiple highly invasive surgeries. The man had fallen from quite the height when the safety rigging for one of his stunts had failed him. The ropes were too slack. No one was quite sure why, but that simply wasn't that man's priority given at the moment he can barely move, and his dear brother can't even spare him a read receipt.
The famed man of scientific insults typically responded quickly to Colt, even when upset with the man. These past few weeks had been beyond strange, especially considering Colt couldn't pin what he'd even done wrong to deserve it. Though, he'd be lying if he claimed the thought hadn't crossed his mind that in the fall his brain was damaged, and he'd forgotten. Colt still had more faith in his own twin brother than to ignore messages distinctly stating him to be in the hospital with a broken back, and who the hell knows what else.
Perhaps something had happened to Ryland? It had been nagging at the back of Colt's head, that his brother was in trouble and he was just oblivious. Nothing would haunt him more than if that were the truth, and he'd just been ignorant to it, wrongly assuming passive aggression towards him. It would easily explain the out of character behaviour.
Ah.
Fuck.
Is that what's been going on?
Oh, fuck.
Colt begins to sweat, the heart rate monitor's incessant beeping speeding up as his heart pounds louder in his chest. The pain from the force shooting through his currently fragile spine.
Fucking hell! Had his brother been in danger this whole time?!
He attempts to stand, but can barely force minor movements. Covered in casts, bandages, and heavy pain killers coursing through his veins, Colt could not manage much for himself at all.
His dear brother, his twin, in danger, and he was just so up his own ass with his thoughts he hadn't considered it! He feels the sharp pain of guilt deep within his chest as a small, pathetic, whimper escapes past his lips.
He can't do anything as he is.
He could have before.
Yet, he did not.
Self centered idiot!
A nurse rushes in, concerned about the increased heart rate, only to find a once proud, confident, Cold Seavers trembling. Tears wet the creases of his eyes, his nose sniffling as he tries to hold it all back in the face of the man who'd just worriedly entered.
The nurse questions if Colt is in pain. Colt gives a simply shake of his head, signifying a no. The medical professional visibly does not believe him, but seems uninterested in pushing, seeing as it'd make his job easier to not have to go through the efforts of administering more pain medication to this absolute disaster of a man.
The nurse begins to leave, turning around to ask just one final question, he's surely by job obligated to ask, “Is there anything at all I can get you, sir?” He sounds like he's hoping for a no, but will get Colt what he pleases regardless.
“My brother.” Is all Colt can spit out in his unyielding distress at his brother's potential dangerous situation.
One Colt would surely blame himself for if it were to be true. He was always the one protecting Ryland, and their younger brother, Ken. Yet, he is the one injured in a hospital bed, a snivling, whining, mess. Completely unable to contact Ryland, and with a, quite frankly, unreliable to answer younger brother.
Colt, and Ryland never could get him to fess up to what his job is, though it seems to consume a lot of his time. Ken once even claimed his job was ‘Beach’. What does that even mean? Is it code for something? Neither he or Ryland could decipher it if so.
Never the matter, he looked up at the nurse from his tragic little hospital bed with pleading eyes, like a small child just searching for his sibling. The nurse sighs, trying to cover his mild irritation at the request, “We can try to contact him again, sir. However, if he is not responding to you, it is unlikely he will respond to us.”
Colt stifles a whimper, “I understand.” He confirms with the tired nurse.
The nurse provides a curt nod in response before walking off, likely to find a phone, or hand the task off to someone else.
Colt remains stranded in the cold hospital bed, accompanied only by the beeping of the heart monitor as it slowly restores itself to a more neutral pace, as he relinquishes himself back into his solemn misery. He eyes the heart monitor, observing as the line takes it's sharp up and subsequent down with the palpitations of the organ inside his chest.
He wonders if Ryland's heart is still doing the same or if.. if it's been forced to stop. He wonders if his brother's heart is pounding loud in fear without him there to protect him, or calm it's racing with one of his horrendous puns.
He wonders if he will ever hear from his beloved twin ever again, or if the sound of his own heart beating in worry would be the only memory left of the man.