What if… You Bring me Home? What if Series Book 3

“We simply have no medical explanation for James’ current state,” the doctor said, looking from one exhausted face to the next.

The moment Jamie had been stable enough to be transported, his parents had arranged to have him flown home. Louis hadn’t left his side once. Lilly and Harry had made sure he could remain with Jamie until they were both safely back in the States.

Jacques hadn’t argued. Perhaps he had understood there was no point, or maybe he simply knew that right now, Louis needed to be beside the boy lying in that bed. His hands were tied. There was no way Louis was leaving Jamie’s side.

“His physical injuries are, thankfully, nowhere near as severe as we initially feared,” the doctor continued. “There are no signs of significant brain trauma, no internal bleeding, and nothing in his scans that would explain why he remains unconscious. Physically, if he were to wake tomorrow and continue recovering as he has, I see no reason why he couldn’t eventually return to the field.”

Louis stared at him from across the room, leaning against the back wall with his arms folded over his chest.

Eventually return to the field.

He almost scoffed. As though that mattered right now.

The physician hesitated before continuing. “The greater concern is that he isn’t waking up. This isn’t a medically induced coma. We aren’t keeping him unconscious. For reasons we don’t yet understand, James isn’t returning to consciousness. Unfortunately, that puts part of this beyond our medical control.”

They had all gathered in Jamie’s room in Intensive Care, though there were far too many of them for the small space. Jamie lay motionless in the center of it all, surrounded by machines, monitors, wires, and tubes. One disappeared between his lips and down his throat, helping him breathe and making someone usually so strong, so impossibly alive, look frighteningly fragile beneath all that machinery.

Louis hated every piece of it. The steady beeping. The antiseptic smell. The white sheets pulled neatly over Jamie’s body. He hated that Jamie didn’t look like Jamie.

But most of all, he despised himself.

Lilly and Harry had been kind enough to let Louis stay at the estate with them. They had offered him Jamie’s room or the bedroom that had once been his during his exchange year. Noah, who had flown in from Australia the moment he received the emergency alert, had taken one of the guest rooms.

Louis couldn’t bring himself to sleep in Jamie’s bed. He hadn’t even managed to walk into the room.

The memories in there were more than he could handle right now, and his old bedroom wasn’t much better. The entire house hurt. The hallways. The kitchen. The winter garden. The stupid driveway. This town. This family that had once felt so much like his own.

They should hate him. Louis certainly hated himself enough for all of them, yet for some ridiculous reason, they didn’t.

“What do you mean, if?” Noah asked.

His deep voice pulled Louis from his thoughts. Jamie’s older brother stood at the foot of the bed with his huge arms crossed over his chest. Louis had never met him before this nightmare, but there was no mistaking him for anything other than a Montgomery. He was just as tall and broad as Jamie, with the same striking blond hair and blue eyes shared by his younger siblings.

The doctor took a careful breath. “I mean that we don’t know when James will regain consciousness. It could be today. Tomorrow. It could take weeks or months. In rare cases, it can take considerably longer.”

“How much longer?” Noah asked.

The doctor hesitated, and Hetty noticed.

“How much longer?” she repeated.

“There is a possibility that he may not wake at all.”

“Not at all? Like in never?” Hetty’s voice rose sharply. “No. He will wake up. He has to wake up. How am I supposed to live without my twin? We’re practically the same freaking person. You don’t understand. Never is not an option. He has to wake up.”

Hetty started to sob again. How was she supposed to go on without Jamie? He was part of her in a way nobody who didn’t have a twin could possibly understand.

“I’m sorry,” the doctor said gently. “I wish I could give you a different answer. At this point, James is stable. His test results are remarkably good considering the accident, and there is nothing more we can medically do to force consciousness. His body has survived something it had very little chance of surviving. His size and physical conditioning may have helped him withstand some of the impact, but even taking that into account, his condition is extraordinary.”

“He died twice,” Louis said.

Everyone turned towards him.

He remained against the wall. He hadn’t slept properly in days. Food tasted like ash, and the dark circles beneath his eyes had deepened to an ugly purple. He looked like shit and felt even worse.

“He had to be resuscitated twice,” Louis continued. “Once in the street and once again afterward. So please don’t stand there and tell us that physically everything is good.”

The doctor regarded him for a moment. “I’m not saying everything is good.”

“So what are you saying then, doctor?”

“Louis, please,” Taylor said. “Be nice. It is not his fault.”

“Yeah, clearly not.” Louis scoffed.

“I’m saying that, medically, we cannot find an injury severe enough to explain why he isn’t waking. His heart is beating on its own. His organs are functioning. His neurological tests are encouraging. But consciousness is complicated, and there are limits to what medicine can predict.”

“So what you are saying,” Louis said, “is that he doesn’t want to wake up?”

“I’m telling you we don’t know.”

Louis looked at Jamie.

But he knew.

Maybe nobody else in the room understood, but Louis did. Jamie was tired. Not from football, the championship, or being hit by a truck. He was tired in a way sleep couldn’t fix. Louis had seen that exhaustion in his eyes long before the accident and had still stood in that apartment and made everything worse.

Jamie was tired because of him. Because Louis had told him he didn’t love him. Because he had told him he was engaged. Because Jamie hadn’t known what to do anymore and had run straight into the street.

And Louis knew something else too. If Jamie died, he would follow him. Not only emotionally. The thought should have frightened him.

It didn’t.

“So what can we do to help?” he asked.

“Talk to him. There is no guarantee he can hear you, but familiar voices and touch may still be valuable. Tell him stories. Talk about good memories. Hold his hand. Touch his skin. Play music he knows. Remind him of the people and things he loves. Give him reasons to find his way back.”

Reasons.

Louis almost laughed. He had spent the last several months taking every reason away from him.

The doctor looked around the crowded room. “Who here is immediate family?”

His eyes traveled over Harry, Lilly, Hetty, and Noah before stopping briefly on Louis.

Louis raised an eyebrow. “Yes? What are you implying?”

The doctor looked mildly uncomfortable. Brown hair. Brown eyes. Olive skin. Louis clearly hadn’t fallen from the same California-goddess family tree as the four blond, blue-eyed people surrounding Jamie’s bed.

“I am the adopted son from Venezuela,” Louis said condescendingly.

“No, he is not,” Lilly said at once, “but yes, he’s family. Louis lives with us whenever he’s here.”

Louis looked at her, his chest tightening. She didn’t even hesitate, despite the fact that her son was lying in that bed because of him.

The doctor nodded. “All right. We can arrange permanent visitor passes for immediate family and anyone you authorize. Those will allow access outside regular visiting hours, subject to ICU restrictions.”

“Young man,” he said, turning towards Landon. “Are you James’ brother as well?”

Louis nearly choked.

Landon’s cheeks turned pink. An absolutely hideous shade of pink, as far as Louis was concerned.

“No, sir. I’m a friend.”

“A very close friend,” Lilly added while signing the authorization forms. “Landon gets a pass too. He can see Jamie whenever he wants.”

“No, he can’t,” Louis said before he could stop himself.

Several heads turned towards him, including the doctor and nurse.

“There is no reason for him to be here. I want him gone.”

Landon’s expression hardened, but he remained silent.

“Louis!” Hetty threw both hands into the air. “Can you stop being such an asshole for five freaking minutes? Jesus Christ. You’re all friends. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“We are not all friends.”

“Of course Landon gets a pass,” Lilly repeated calmly, giving Louis a look that warned him not to push her.

Louis made a dismissive sound and looked away. He knew he was being awful, but he didn’t give a shit.

Every time he looked at Landon Scott, he saw everything he had forced Jamie to find somewhere else. Comfort. Affection. Safety. A future that might hurt less than the one Louis had given him. Worse, Landon had been willing to accept the darkness Louis had refused to live in.

Louis hated him for it.

Maybe because somewhere beneath all that jealousy, he knew Landon had done nothing wrong.

“You’ll contact us immediately if anything changes?” Harry asked.

“Of course, Mr. Montgomery. Day or night. But for now, I wouldn’t expect any sudden changes. His condition is stable, and that is a good thing. We’ll continue monitoring him closely and repeat neurological assessments as needed. I’ll see you during rounds tomorrow morning.”

The doctor nodded to them before leaving. The nurse checked Jamie’s IV and monitors one last time, adjusted something near the ventilator, then quietly followed him out.

For several seconds after the door closed, nobody spoke. The machines did it for them, filling the silence with the steady rhythm of Jamie’s borrowed breaths.

Lilly finally rubbed both hands over her face. “All right, kids. We should say goodnight to Jamie and go home. We’ll order dinner, shower, sleep, and come back first thing in the morning.”

“I’m not leaving.” Louis remained against the wall. “Nope. Not happening. And you can’t make me. I haven’t left his side since this happened, and I’m not going to.”

Lilly looked at him. “Yes, honey. You are.”

“No.”

“You need sleep as well. When did you eat last? You look like you’re about to fall over. We’re all exhausted. Jamie isn’t going anywhere.”

Louis’ jaw tightened. “I’m not leaving him.”

“Louis,” Lilly said more gently, “you need a break too. We all do. Jamie needs us functioning when he wakes up.”

When.

Not if.

Louis loved her for that one word.

“You can come back tomorrow morning,” Hetty said. “And maybe we can skateboard later or something. We haven’t done that in forever. You and me. Like before.”

Louis stared at her as though she had suggested they go dancing on Jamie’s grave. “Nope.”

“Mom says we’re going, so we’re going,” Harry said, and there was enough father in his voice to make even Louis straighten. “No arguments tonight.”

Louis sighed. He knew Harry and Lilly were right. He needed food, a shower, and sleep. Probably all three before his body made the decision for him and collapsed.

“Ma’am,” Landon said quietly to Lilly, “thank you for letting me come see Jamie.”

Lilly gave him a tired smile. “Enough with the ma’am. Lilly, please.”

Landon nodded.

Louis gagged.

Actually gagged.

“Louis!” Hetty spun towards him. “Stop being such a damn asshole! This is all your fault anyway! He came to see you, and whatever happened, he is in this condition because of you. If you weren’t—”

“Enough!” Harry said. “Enough, Harriet. Do not blame this on Louis. James had his reasons to go see him, of that I am sure, otherwise he would not have gone. Especially not that soon after the game.”

But Harry couldn’t take back what Hetty had already said, and the last of the color drained from Louis’ face.

Hetty’s anger vanished.

“Oh God.” Her hands flew to her mouth as the horror of what she had said registered. “Louis, I didn’t mean—”

“Yes, you did.”

“No.” She hurried towards him. “No, I didn’t. I swear. I’m angry and scared and I just—”

Louis lifted one arm, stopping her before she could reach him.

“I know,” he whispered, his voice barely recognizable. “You don’t have to remind me. I know all of this. Trust me.”

Hetty’s face crumpled. “Lou—”

“It’s okay,” he said, although it clearly wasn’t.

Harry stepped between them before either could say something they would never be able to take back.

“This is nobody’s fault,” he said firmly. “Jamie was hit by a truck. It was an accident. We can destroy ourselves trying to decide who said what, who did what, and who should have done something differently, but none of that will help him now.”

His gaze moved from Hetty to Louis and then to Landon.

“The last thing Jamie would want is for the people he loves to tear each other apart while he’s lying there. So whatever anger, jealousy, guilt, or history exists between any of you, you put it aside when you walk through that door.”

Louis’ eyes moved towards Landon.

Landon was already looking at him.

Neither spoke, but they both knew Harry was right.