*James*

The light at the end of the tunnel is so bright. That's where Carter is, playing in the sand. He keeps putting his hands out to me every once in a while, but I'm too afraid to go through the tunnel. A few times, Carter ran over to me and pulled me by my hand to see his sandcastle on the other side.

That's when the outside noises fill my ears. The sounds of nurses and doctors frantically rattling off numbers and medical terms. Beeping of monitors. I hear it all.

But then I end up right back where I am now. Floating on the other side, not near the bright light. No longer holding on to Carter's hand. I watch him play from where I am and smile. He always had the best imagination. I watch him play with his favorite green plastic dinosaur, making it stomp on the mound of sand at attempted to make into a sandcastle. It's just a mound of sand, but he's happy with it, and it makes me smile more. He's such a good boy.

Part of me wants to go where Carter is. The sun is so warm, the ocean is so peaceful. But I can't bring myself to go through that tunnel. I just can't. I'm not ready. I don't wanna leave just yet.

But that's where my son is. On the other side. Playing in the sand on the beach. Waiting for me.

*****

*Trisha*

"All set." The technician says after a 45-minute MRI. The banging inside the machine is giving me a migraine, or the concussion, either way, more pain meds are given to me and I'm back in my wheelchair A bodyguard is with me at all times. "Looks like we're sending you to a different room." The nurse wheels me down the hall.

"I'll take it from here."

A familiar face.

Paul.

He relieves the previous bodyguard and walks alongside my wheelchair.

"How ya feeling, Banks?" The sad, tired bodyguard looks down at me. He's been through a lot today, having his friends all in the hospital.

"How's James?" It's the first thing I ask and hear a long sigh come from Paul.

"Not great. I don't know, Trish... He had a seizure an hour ago. It's not lookin-

"Please." I begin to cry. "Don't say it."

"Ok. I won't." Paul holds my hand to show affection while the nurse pushes my wheelchair. It's the first time Paul has ever held my hand. He looks scared. James really isn't doing well. I continue to cry but then start to have a panic attack thinking about James. About the collision. Seeing Nate's driver in the condition I saw him in. He no longer looked human. A decapitated body and head.

I begin to shake again.

"Miss Banks," I hear the nurse, and she stops the wheelchair in the middle of the hall. I look up to see the TV on in another patient's room. The scene of the accident is on the news. The two SUVs.

"Oh my God." I gasp.

"Trisha. Hey. Trish. Look at me." I hear Paul, but my eyes are glued to the TV screen.

"Doctor!" I hear the nurse call out.

Another injection of Ativan is released into my IV port.

*****

*Trisha*

I open my eyes and look around. I swear every time they fucking give me that shit, I'm in a new room. This room looks like a friggen hotel, not a hospital.

"Well look who joined our circus freak show." Nate glances over to me. His and Julia's beds are side by side and then there's a wooden divider that is open. I'm on the other side of it.

Julia is sleeping. She doesn't look good. Her entire leg is casted and hanging in a Buck's Traction. Jonah is sleeping in the recliner near Nate who is awake and talking to Paul. I look around the room and realize Nate pulled strings to get us all into the Presidential Suite of the hospital. All but James.

James.

I start crying and Paul, being the only mobile and awake person, walks over to me and pulls a chair over.

"James..." I cry and look at Paul with pleading eyes. "Paul... He can't leave us... James." I try to talk but my words aren't making a lot of sense. The doctor is monitoring my concussion.

"I know... Try not to think about it." Paul tries to comfort me. Of all people too. I feel like Paul has had to comfort me a lot lately. Nate also looks over at me with sympathy, then begins to crack more jokes.

"Nice shiner you got going on there, Banks." He smirks.

"I have a black eye?"

"Dude, the whole side of your face is a black eye. Halloween's not for another few months."

"Ha... ha.. ha.. You think your fucking funny, don't ya. Wait till I punch you in the rib cage, brat."

"There's my girl." Nate nods, bringing me back to reality. "Look at our Rat Pack. We're a sad group, yeah?"

"Yeah." I let out a sigh and try to sit up. Paul props up my pillow for me and helps me sit up more. "Thanks Paulie. I owe ya."

"You ALLL owe me." He grumbles. Paul is back to being grumpy ol Paul just the way we like it.

"How's she doing over there?"

"She's a mess. But she'll be ok. So long as... you know." Nate pauses.

I know. So long as James pulls through. If he doesn't, Julia certainly won't recover from it.