I wait until Bobby nods and take off my gloves. I grab a new pair and get filled in on the little sister. Her stats are a bit lower than any of us want. She starts crying as the nurse gets an IV in and tapes it down so she can't pull it out. We get her down to her diaper and start checking her out.
"They're saying it was a five car pile up," someone says. "We're getting more patients in."
"Just focus on the two we have in here," another says. I'm not familiar with everyone that is in the Emergency Room. "If the scans come back clear, we'll move them to a room and work on getting these cuts fixed up."
Time goes by at warped speed. I bounce between talking to Bobby and helping document everything that's done. I call up to our station and get a room cleared for both of them. I figure out where their parents are and keep them updated on the status of their kids. I also keep Bobby updated on his mom and dad aswell. He seems really worried about them. More than he should be for a twelve-year-old.
By the time we get everyone stabilized, it's an hour past the end of my shift. I'm ready to go home, but I make sure to check on Bobby once more. I have to grab all of my things from the nurse's station anyway. Their dad is sitting between both of them. Bobby doesn't immediately say anything when I walk in.
"Hey, bud. How are you feeling?" Bobby is in the first bed. His sister is in a crib on the far side. Thankfully she’s asleep right now.
"I'm okay." He doesn't look at me. His eyes are red rimmed. I know he was crying earlier, but that was hours ago.
"You don't sound okay. What's going on?" I stand beside his bed. He avoids my eyes for a moment, but then looks up. There are fresh tears in his eyes.
"The crash was my fault."
He starts crying and his dad is right by his side. "Bobby, this is not your fault."
"Why do you think that?" I ask. He still has a finger sensor on and his heart rate starts going up. "Bobby, you need to take some deep breaths. Come on, breathe with me, buddy."
I rub a hand up and down his back. It takes several moments for him to calm down enough to speak.
"I was being mean and yelling at Mom. She got distracted and hit that other car." His voice is so little. I can hear the weight of the guilt he's feeling in those words. "I didn't mean it. I was just upset."
"Bobby, this is not on you." His dad speaks before I can. "We already told you. Mommy was not distracted because of you. This is not your fault."
My heart breaks for Bobby. I see that he hears what his dad is saying, but he isn't believing it. It's going to take a lot for him to not think that this was his fault. I stick around for a littlelonger, making sure that his nurse and the doctor are both aware of what he thinks. It will affect how they handle treatment and possibly get one of the psychologists to stop by to talk to him.
"I'm going to come back and see you tomorrow morning, Bobby. Get some sleep tonight, okay?"
He's still sullen, but I see him give a small smile. I hope he doesn't carry this with him for his life.
I clock out for the day and pull out my phone. I don't have any texts from Tyler, which is a little concerning. It's past eight already, so I know he'll probably be watching a movie or something. I send him a text that I'm on my way home.
The streets are mostly empty on a Sunday night. It's a nice night out, not too hot. I roll the windows down and let the breeze blow through. I don't know if Tyler has eaten yet, which I hope he has considering it's well past our usual dinner time. I go through a drive thru and grab us both something just in case.
I eat half my food before I even park the car, hungrier than I thought I was. My phone dings as I put it in my pocket to head upstairs. I assume it's Tyler finally responding to me. I push the button for the elevator and press our floor number.
The floor is empty when I step out. I dig out my keys from one of my pockets and unlock the door. The TV is on, just as I suspected. His bedroom door is open too. I peek in and see that he must have been playing for a bit tonight. I don't like the thought of him playing on his own. I love to be with him when he's in his Little space.
"Ty, I'm home. Sorry, I'm late, but I brought food to make up for it." I kick off my shoes and fix them so they're neatly against the wall. I put my keys on the hook by the front door. There's no answer from Ty. "Baby? Are you listening to me?"
I walk down the hallway and into the living room. He's not in the living room as I suspected. I set the food down and check my bedroom.
Empty.
I walk back out into the living room. There is an empty plate on the counter, which tells me he at least ate.
"Ty? Seriously, baby, please respond to me. Where are you?"
I move back to check the bathroom. The door is open, but he's not in there. Not in a shower or bath. My heart rate kicks up and I start panicking a bit. I pull my phone out and dial his number. I hear it ringing. My head swivels back and forth. I spot the sliding door slightly ajar.
"Tyler? Are you out here?" I push the door open and sigh when I see him sitting in one of the camping chairs we have out here. "Baby, did you hear me calling for you?"
I run my fingers through his hair. He doesn't stir. I step around the chair and look at his face. His eyes are closed and his lips are slightly parted. He's wearing a pajama set, pants and a short sleeve button up. It's green and white striped. It would be cute if I wasn't immediately concerned. I kneel down, run my hand down his cheek.
"Tyler, wake up, baby." He doesn't move. I shake his hand, squeeze his arm. My panic is back in full swing now. "Tyler. Open your eyes. Please, baby."
