Closed we start at the end

[Flynn North-McGowan]

ID #100459

The first thing that Flynn was aware of was a small rhythmic beeping in his ears. His head was pounding and he felt as though each movement was like he was trying to swim through concrete.

He couldn't remember where he was, the last thing he remembered was sitting in the car being angry about spending his break at another new foster home. That was where he should be right now, they had been almost there, but this didn't feel right. His whole head was swimming, grogginess hazing his memories as he slowly cracked open his eyes, though the sudden bright lights made him quickly close them again. it felt like he had been asleep for days, everything aching and struggling to function properly as he once again tried to open his eyes to the bright lights around him, raising his right hand to try and shield the light a little better.

And that's when he saw the bandages wrapped around his hand and the IV line sticking out of the back of his hand.

His first thought was confusion. Why was that there? What had happened? Where was he?

Blinking against the light, the twelve-year-old finally managed to shift a little in bed, the lights starting to appear a little dimmer as the room came more into focus. The beeping he had heard at first was the heart rate monitor he was apparently hooked up to and it appeared as though he was in a hospital. It made sense with all this equipment, but the question still in his head was why he was there in the first place? His memory was a little foggy on that. And there was something else bothering him, something he couldn't quite put his finger on. Something felt horribly wrong.

Flynn tried to sit up, but before he could even manage that there was a firm hand on his shoulder pushing him back down to the bed. "Whoa, there Flynn. You've been through a lot, you need to rest." It was a voice he didn't recognize, frowning as he shifted his head against his pillow, the figure of a man dressed in a white doctor's coat coming into vision. "I'm doctor Walsh and I've been looking after you. Now, Flynn... what do you last remember?"

The question mad an uncomfortable feeling of dread settling in his stomach just being asked that. Flynn paused, tongue feeling like lead in his mouth as he tried yo talk, having to take a couple of attempts to even form proper sounds, "I don't... I don't know... I was in the car and then... then I... I don't know." Doctor Walsh was giving him an uncomfortably sympathetic look and it was making Flynn start to worry. "What happened?" He decided to demand, his words coming back to him a little more confidently now. "And why... why do I feel... different? Something's wrong with me. But... I can't... I can't." He squeezed his eyes closed for a moment, taking a deep breath before letting it out, slowly fixing his gaze back on the doctor, "Why am I here?"

Doctor Walsh gave him a small smile as he moved to sit in the chair next to the bed. Though the man was trying to hide it, Flynn could tell that he was thinking very hard about how he wanted to go about saying things. "Flynn, you were in an accident. The car you were in came off the road and you've been out of it for quite a few days now. Now don't worry your matron, Miss McMillan, is quite fine-" Oh, Flynn had completely forgotten about her, "But... there was some substantial damage to you. Your lower right leg became trapped in the wreckage and it had to be... removed so you could be pulled free."

As soon as the words came out, things started clicking into place. It was like his brain was finally waking up from its long nap. That was why he felt so weird, why he felt as though there was something wrong. It had felt like he wasn't whole anymore, that something was missing and now he had been told he could feel that missing part of him. His heart caught in his throat, fingers curling into the sheets as he couldn't help himself, his gaze slowly moving down. He could see where his legs were under the sheets, the distinctive shape lump they created. But then it went wrong the lower down he went. His right leg just... stopped beyond the knee, while he left kept going. He could see his left foot, he could wiggle his toes and feel them against the fabric of the duvet, but where his right foot should be there was nothing. The duvet was laying completely flat.

Instantly he felt sick right to his stomach like he was about to throw up. His heart was hammering, the beeping from the heart rate monitor getting more frequent as he started to panic. His right foot was gone. It was gone. And it was all he could think about, his whole world feeling as though it was crashing in around his ears, all his hopes and dreams being laid out before him and stepped on one by one. And it was only the doctor's voice, the feeling of his hand resting on his shoulder which was keeping him attached to the real world. "Hey, Flynn, calm down. You have to breathe. You're on some heavy pain medication right now and you need to stay calm. I know this is hard for you, but you have to stay positive. You're still alive and you should be able to be fitted with a prosthetic later on. This is not the end, you're going to be alright and you will walk again, I promise."

But even those words didn't help, it felt like an empty promise, the emotions all getting too much for him as he simply couldn't hold it in anymore. For the first time since he heard the news his parents had died, Flynn simply curled into himself and started to cry.