Adam opened his mouth and Etienne slipped the straw between his lips. Adam had never tasted anything so sweet as the cool water sliding down his throat. He whimpered a protest when Etienne pulled it away.
“Shh,” Etienne said, a hand ghosting over Adam’s jaw. “Not too much at first.”
“Tenny—” Adam turned his head into Etienne’s palm. “What….”
“You were hit,” Etienne said. He stroked Adam’s cheekbone and Adam sighed, melting into his touch. Nothing hurt as long as he didn’t move. “Krzinski—you scored and he checked you into the boards. Y-your helmet came off—” His voice caught.
“‘M okay,” Adam slurred. “Did… we win?”
Etienne’s breath hitched. “Yeah, baby,” he managed, laughter and tears choking his voice. “Yeah, we won.”
Adam opened his eyes. The room was dark, a jumble of blurred objects, Etienne’s broad shoulders just barely visible through the gloom.
“Why’re… the lights off?”
Etienne’s thumb, still stroking Adam’s cheek, stopped.
“Tens?”
“Adam, can you see me?”
“Yeah,” Adam slurred. “You’re right there. Why’s it so dark?”
Etienne let go of him and fumbled with something on the bed. Someone answered, tinny over a speaker, a few seconds later.
“Get the doctor in here now,” Etienne said. Adam had never heard his voice like that, brittle and stretched thin with fear, and he struggled to sit up, to figure out what was wrong, but his joints weren’t working, ribs stabbing him with every breath.
“Tenny, what—”
“Don’t move,” Etienne said. He gripped Adam’s shoulder, gently pinning him to the bed. “Don’t move, Adam, please—”
“You’re scaring me.”
Etienne’s hand tightened as a door to Adam’s left opened and closed, sound from the hallway momentarily filtering in and then silenced again. Footsteps approached.
“Mr. Caron, good to have you back with us,” a soothing voice said. “I’m Dr. Wilson, the attending on call. How are you feeling?”
Adam squinted through the dark. He could just make out a shape to his left, short and plump. Cool fingers touched his arm and he jolted.
“Easy,” Dr. Wilson said. “Just taking your pulse.”
“Turn the lights on,” Adam said. “Tenny, tell her to turn the lights on.”
Etienne’s hand on Adam’s shoulder tightened almost to the point of pain but he said nothing.
The doctor cleared her throat. “I’m going to touch your face, Mr. Caron. Open your eyes wide for me.”
Adam struggled to obey through the haze of panic as she gripped his chin, turning his head this way and that.
“Can you see anything?” she finally asked.
“Shapes,” Adam said through his teeth. “What’s going on?”
Instead of answering, Dr. Wilson put her hand on his left cheek, holding his eyelid open. “Can you see that?”
A faint ray of light sparked through the gloom, there and gone again.
“There,” Adam said. “I think—what was that?”
“I just shone a flashlight in your eyes, Mr. Caron,” Dr. Wilson said.
Adam shook his head. “No. No. The lights are off, it’s just dark. Tenny, turn the lights on. Tell her, Tenny, tell her I’m not blind, she’s wrong, I’m not blind—” He heaved for air, biting his tongue so hard bitter copper flooded his mouth. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, as the panic welled inside him and drowned out the voices that were suddenly shouting.
It was a mercy when the abyss closed over his head, dragging him down into the deep.
34
When he woke up again, his mother was talking in that cold, clear, tightly controlled voice she only used when pushed to the limits of her considerable patience, but he couldn’t quite understand what she was saying.
“Mom—” Adam’s throat closed up. Even to his own ears, he sounded like a child, helpless and terrified. Was she really there?
“I’m here,” Colette said immediately. A door opened and closed and her voice drew nearer. “I’m here, sweetheart, can you see me?”
Adam shook his head, reaching desperately in the direction of her voice and the vague shape of her, and Colette caught his hand.
“Mom,” Adam repeated. Tears prickled his eyes and he wanted nothing more than to bury his face in her stomach, the way he had as a child. “I can’t see, Mom, I can’t—”
“I know, baby,” Colette said, wiping away the tear that escaped Adam’s eye. She sounded on the verge of tears herself. “You’re going to be okay. I’m here. So is Dad. He’s getting coffee.”
“Where’s Tenny?”
“He’s asleep on the couch beside you.” Colette’s voice gentled with affection. “He called us after the game. He hasn’t left your side.”
“How is he?” Adam whispered.
“Worried about you, sweetheart. But he’s okay.”
“Is it permanent, Mom?”
Colette drew a breath, and all of Adam’s fears welled in a stifling wave.
“Don’t lie to me,” he gritted out.
“We don’t know,” Colette finally said. “They’re still doing tests.”
“Adam?” That was Etienne’s deep voice. Adam turned to him instinctively, reaching for him and wincing when the movement jostled his arm. “Don’t move,” Etienne said. Adam heard rustling, then footsteps. His voice was much nearer when he spoke again. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m fucking great,” Adam snapped. Silence followed the outburst and he bit the inside of his cheek. “I—”
Colette squeezed his hand. “I’m going to find your father.”
There was more silence after she left, until Adam took a shaky breath and scooted himself slowly, agonizingly, to the edge of the mattress.
“Cary, stop.” Etienne sounded distressed but he didn’t touch him. Adam ignored him.
He was trembling when he was done, pain vibrating through him, but he didn’t care.
“Tenny, please—”
Etienne made a small, hurt noise and then he was there, crawling onto the bed beside him. He settled his big frame in carefully, curving himself protectively around Adam’s body in a long, warm line.
“I’m sorry,” Adam whispered.
“Don’t,” Etienne said, breath stirring Adam’s hair. “It’s okay, baby, I know.”
“I’m so scared,” Adam managed. He squeezed his eyes shut against the tears.
“I know,” Etienne said. “I am too. But we’ll figure it out.” He stroked Adam’s hair off his forehead in slow, rhythmic movements.
“What if—”
The door opened, cutting him off. Etienne tensed as if to move.
“No, Tenny, stay there,” Colette said. “Adam, I found your dad.”
“Hi Dad,” Adam said, aware of the wobble in his voice. His parents were almost formless shapes against the gloom. The larger of the two took a shape forward.