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He was on stage playing when he got the call. Fingers flying over keys, lost in the melody, in the music. There was no way he could have known. There was nothing he could have done. He checked his voicemail when he finished the song.
“Mr. Wilder, this is Dignity Health Emergency Department, please call us back as soon as possible.”
His hands were shaking so badly, he nearly dropped his phone. “Yes I...received a call...Sebastian Wilder...” A pause. A long pause. “Yes...I’m safe, I’m not driving...” Another pause. Seb dropped his phone.
“Ryland Grace has you listed as his emergency contact. He’s been in an accident. He’s stable, but in serious condition. He’s at the Glendale Campus. Just got out of the ICU. He’s in Room 314. Come as soon as you can.”
His Ryland.
His beloved.
An accident.
The ICU.
Serious condition.
Room 314...that was his classroom number. He loved it because it was the Pi room. That’s what he always said.
He didn’t trust himself to drive, they didn’t both need to end up in the hospital. He ordered an Uber. On the way, he called Colt. “Ry’s...Ry’s been in an accident. I don’t know what happened. I’ll keep you updated.”
An accident.
The ICU.
Serious condition.
No..he was out of the ICU.
That meant he was okay. He had to be okay.
He didn’t cry on the drive to Glendale. There was traffic, there was always traffic. He fidgeted with his hands, squeezing his fingers tightly, rubbing his thumb over the fist, releasing, and doing it all over again. It wasn’t helping. His fingers itched to call Ry. To hear his voice. But he couldn’t do that. Did he even still have his phone?
Once he arrived, he practically stumbled out of the car. “Room 314. My partner...Ryland Grace? I got a...a phone call. They said he...they said he was in an accident.”
The person behind the glass stared at him, unblinking. “Family only, sorry.”
“I am family. Besides, they called and told me to come. Please...please let me see him. I need to see him.” He hated how his voice caught in his throat and cracked. A few tears escaped, slipping down his cheeks. “I was...I was told to come...”
The stare turned to pity, which was not something he particularly enjoyed, but whatever got him closer to seeing his love. “Floor three.”
He had always hated hospitals. They were too clean, but in the wrong sort of way. And at this time of night, they were too quiet. Eerie. Unreal. His shoes clacked loudly as he moved down the hallway.
Room 310
Room 312
Room...314. The door was closed but not latched. He held his breath as he eased it open.
“Oh god...” The words escaped from his mouth unbidden. There he was. His beloved. Bruised, scraped up. There was a bandage around his head, and a cast on one arm and one leg. He settled heavily into the chair next to the bed and took Ry’s uninjured hand.
“Hey, my love, I’m here...I’m here...”
Ryland Grace had been riding his bike for years. It had never been a problem before, not when he lived in San Francisco. Okay, maybe there had been one or five close calls. But he’d never actually gotten hurt.
Yes, yes, there was the time he hit a rock and tumbled head over rear over his handlebars. But that could have happened to anyone. Anywhere.
Los Angeles, however, was a different beast entirely. People had no respect for anyone but themselves, and Grace wasn’t entirely sure they even had respect for themselves. They certainly didn’t have respect for a simple middle school science teacher, riding his bike home.
It was his turn to go, but the car turning left didn’t see it that way. He didn’t realize it until it was far too late. He hit the front, heard a SNAP, then bounced off the hood, hit (and cracked) the windshield, then rolled off onto the ground with an unceremonious thud. He didn’t remember anything after the snap, but he knew physics, besides, his brother was a stuntman and got hit by cars professionally.
He was in and out of consciousness on the ride over. He may have said something about not being able to afford the ambulance. He may have also said something about the ride being too bumpy, but mostly he probably just cried.
It was forgiven, he’d just been hit by a car after all.
I’m here...I’m here...
Grace forced his eyes open, and tried to smile. “Hey...” he mumbled. “Love...”
All things considered, it could have been so much worse. He had a concussion, a broken leg, fractured wrist, and a bunch of other scrapes and bruises. But he was alive and he would make a full recovery. Especially with Sebastian to care for him.
“Let’s get you inside, hm?” Thankfully they lived on the ground floor. There would be no stairs, not for a while. Seb wheeled him inside, and helped him transfer over to the couch. “I hope you’re ready for non-stop pampering and care. I’m your nurse for the foreseeable future.”
Grace smiled. “I think...the doctor ordered a kiss? Can I get that one now?”
Sebastian rolled his eyes, even busted and broken, his love was being silly. He leaned down and gently kissed Grace’s forehead, each cheek, and then the lips. “How’s that for now? I don’t want you to overexert yourself.”
“That’ll do..” He made himself comfy on the couch, surrounded by a pile of pillows. “There is one more thing that will make me feel better. Well...a few things. But one thing I would like right now, please.”
“Anything, love. Everything. Just name it.”
“Play for me. Then hold me. In that order.”
Sebastian nodded, smiling softly. “Of course.” He kissed Grace again on his way to the piano. He played for a few minutes, then returned to find his love asleep.
Not wanting to disturb him and potentially cause pain, Sebastian sat on the floor, back against the couch and held Grace’s hand. It wasn’t what he had meant, but it was the best he could do for now.
“I love you, Ryland Grace.” He sighed. “You are never ever riding that bicycle ever again.”