#Silence is Golden | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

a-reader-and-a-writer · 2 years

Text

The Accident (Part Two)

Whumptober 2022: #25. Silence is Golden Fandom: Top Gun, Top Gun: Maverick, Top Gun Gang, f!reader, Robert "Bob" Floyd Word Count: 3428 TW: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Hospital, Descriptions of Injuries, Lies, Grief, Blaming Oneself Notes: Thank you to @green-socks for looking this over for me and for the initial request! 💖 Part One, Part Two, Part Three (coming soon)

By the time you make it to the site of the accident, the emergency crew has freed Bob and Jake from the car and are just about to load them into the ambulance. Luckily, you know all four of the guys on the scene and manage to talk your way into riding with them to the hospital. Bradley tells you he will drive your car and meet you there. You hesitate for a moment, unsure if he is in any mental or emotional condition to drive, but he reassures you he is and you are too focused on Bob to worry about it too much. So you toss him the keys and climb into the ambulance.

It is a tight fit with all the equipment, you, Bob, Jake, and the emergency crew weaving back and forth between the two stretchers, trying to treat both men at the same time. You hadn’t really been able to get a good look at Jake on the video call, but he is bleeding heavily from a wound on his head, the blood matting his blond hair before pouring down his face. His eyes are closed and his skin is sickly pale but as horrible as it makes you feel, you turn your back on him so you can watch as the team works on Bob.

One EMT is carefully pulling shards of glass from the windshield and his glasses out of his face. They have already removed what is left of his frames and it has just revealed more damage and gore. You quickly glance away, not sure if what you saw was bone showing through at the bridge of his nose, but also not wanting to find out one way or the other.

Instead, you focus on his chest. One of the first things they had done once Bob was situated in the rig was to slip an oxygen mask over his face and rip open his shirt to examine his chest. Bob has always been self-conscious of his body and rarely removed his shirt in front of anyone but you. But you loved his body and told him so often. He was just as toned and fit as Bradley or Jake, though in a slightly more subtle way. You loved laying your head on his bare chest at night as you drifted off to sleep, soothed by the sound of his heartbeat.

But now, his usually pale chest is awash with reds, and blues, and purples. It looks as if he had been punched in the chest by the Hulk. The EMTs said it was from the airbag going off and luckily all of his breathing problems seemed to just be from the bruising, not a punctured or collapsed lung. At least that is something.

You take his right hand gently in yours while another EMT applies a brace to Bob’s injured left arm. They can’t diagnose him without an x-ray, but they guess he probably has a broken wrist and forearm. But just like with everything else, they need to wait for the doctors at the hospital to tell you for sure.

Suddenly, one of the monitors on the other side of the rig starts blaring and all four EMTs rush to Jake’s side, leaving you alone with Bob. Bending over, you whisper in his ear, “It’s okay, baby. I’m here. It’s going to be alright. You just need to fight through this, okay? I know it hurts and it’s going to be tough, but you can’t leave me like this. Please, Bobby. Please come back to me.”

You gently place a kiss on his knuckles before squeezing your eyes together. No matter what happens, no matter how bad it is, as long as Bob pulls through, that’s all you care about. After all, you’re supposed to be planning a wedding.

For the next twelve hours, there is nothing for you to do but sit and wait for your questions to be answered. Wait to find out the outcome of one of Bob’s numerous surgeries and his prognosis. Wait to find out if they managed to stabilize Jake. Wait to find out if Bradley got the all-clear on his examination. After twelve hours you have the answers to all of those questions; some good, some heartbreaking. But there is still one question that now remains: when will Bob wake up?

You have just started nodding off when a soft moaning from the bed next to you stirs you awake. Sitting up in your chair, you see Bob weakly pulling on the gauze that is wrapped from the top of his head to the tip of his nose.

“No, no, no. Hey, don’t mess with that,” you coo softly as you gently move his hand away from the dressings.

“Sweetheart?” he mumbles softly, his words muffled and slurred between his broken, swollen nose and the drugs in his system. “Wh-what happened? What is this? Why can’t I see?”

“You were in a car accident. A truck ran a red light and smashed into you. Right now, you’re in the hospital and they had to wrap bandages around your face because the airbag shattered your glasses into it. They caused a lot of damage. Your nose is broken a-and there are cuts from the glass of the lens and the windshield.” You quickly pull out your phone and text Bradley to let him know Bob woke up. “You also have quite a few broken bones and bruises, but I can go over all that with you later. Right now, I’m just so glad you’re awake! How do you feel?”

“Like I got hit by a truck…. Which apparently I did,” he mutters, shifting slightly and hissing as he grabs his chest with his good hand. “The car…. I was with Rooster and Hangman, right? Are they okay?”

“Fine,” you say curtly, then change the subject. “But can I do anything for you? Are you in any pain? They have you on a bunch of different meds but they couldn’t tell how much they are working until you woke up.”

“As long as I don’t move, it’s not too bad,” he mumbles. But then his voice grows stronger as he asks, “So, how bad is it? Really?”

You swallow and take a moment to choose your words wisely. “It was bad. Since I knew you were out for the night, I took an extra shift and I was the one to answer when Bradley called it in. I made him send me a video of the crash and….” You take a deep, shuddering breath at the memory of seeing Bob’s broken form in the front seat of the car. “I left work and rushed to the scene. I got there just in time to ride with you and Jake to the hospital. I was so scared you wouldn’t make it.” Tears begin to roll down your cheeks.

Even though Bob’s face is covered, he knows you well enough to tell what was happening. Reaching out blindly, he searches for your face. Leaning over, you allow his fingers to brush against your cheek and he draws you in closer, wiping away the tears with his thumb.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I made it. Maybe everything’s not quite the same, but–” you bite your lip until you taste blood as you urge yourself not to openly sob “– I’m still here.”

You nod softly, knowing there is still so much more you need to tell him, so much more he needs to know. But right now, you just lean into the warmth of his skin and relish the fact your Bobby is still here with you.

An hour later, Bob falls back to sleep so you quietly slip out of the room to go grab a coffee and something to eat. As soon as you enter the hall, you notice Bradley standing by a nearby window, talking on the phone. When he sees you, he quickly says his goodbyes and hangs up as he hurries over. “How is he?”

A small smile tugs at your lips as you say, “All things considered, he’s okay. He’s pretty weak and still a little out of it, but I think that will pass once he gets some of the drugs out of his system. But we had a good talk and he’s in pretty good spirits.”

Bradley’s relieved expression hardens into an accusatory glare. Coldly, he says, “You didn’t tell him.”

Your smile evaporates immediately, and you look at the floor. “How am I supposed to tell him, Bradley? What do I even say?”

“He deserves to know.”

“And he will…. soon. But until then, can’t we give him just a little time to adjust? To regain some strength? Telling him won’t change anything.”

Bradley shakes his head. “So what do we do if he asks? Lie to him? Because I won’t do that. Not about this.”

“Then stay the hell away from him!” you snap, your eyes darting to his. “Haven’t you caused him enough pain already?”

The second the words are out of your mouth, you regret them. You might as well have slapped Bradley across the face. As his expression crumbles, he turns quickly on his heels and storms down the hall but you chase after him.

“Wait, Bradley! Please! I didn’t mean it. I’m just…. I’m hurt and I’m scared and I don’t know how to handle any of this. I might deal with these sorts of situations at work all the time, but as soon as it’s someone I love…. It’s so much harder and I don’t know what to do.”

He slows to a stop but his back is still facing you. Gently, reaching out and touching his arm, you say, “It wasn’t your fault. I know that. It just popped out. I promise, I don’t blame you for what happened, and I know Bob doesn’t either. You weren’t driving that truck and you couldn’t have known what was going to happen.”

“It should have been me.” The whisper is so soft that you almost didn’t hear it. “We always take advantage of Bob because he doesn’t drink. Like that just automatically makes him the designated driver.”

“I mean,” you shrug slightly. “It does make sense. And I know he doesn’t mind.”

“But he still shouldn’t have to. And Hangman… He didn’t want to leave the bar. He was chatting up a couple of girls but I dragged him away saying we all came together, and we were all leaving together. If I would have just let him stay–” Bradley buries his head in his hands.

“Oh, Bradley….” you wrap your arms around the pilot and he clings to you tightly. Since the day you met him, Bradley Bradshaw seemed to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders. His loyalty and devotion to his friends and to his team are one of the things you most admire about the man and you can’t imagine how much this must be weighing on him. It doesn’t surprise you in the least that he blames himself for what happened last night.

You hold him for a long time until he finally straightens and clears his throat. Smiling gently at him, you say, “Hey, I’m sorry I snapped at you and said that. I know you’re dealing with so much right now on top of your own injuries. How are you feeling?”

“Physically? I’m okay. My neck’s still sore but they said it was just whiplash. But I can’t stop thinking about it. Opening my eyes after the crash and seeing them…. Now I can’t close my eyes without seeing them again.” He scrubs his hand over his face and for the first time, you realize how exhausted he looks.

“Is your wife coming by later?”

He shakes his head. “No, I told her to just stay home. There’s nothing she can do here and I don’t want her to have to spend all day here for no reason. She still has really bad morning sickness that lasts most of the day and she’ll just be more comfortable at home.”

“That makes sense, but you should go see her. There’s nothing else you can really do here right now so why don’t you take my car and go home for a few hours? Just call her back and tell her you’re coming home.”

Bradley shifts slightly. “Uh, no. I wasn’t on the phone with her. It was Hangman’s parents. They just booked their tickets and are flying in first thing in the morning.”

“Oh…. I figured the hospital took care of contacting them.”

“Usually they do, but I figured I owed it to them to call them personally so I let them know this morning. His mom was just letting me know what time they were coming in.”

You nod softly but before you can say anything, your phone buzzes. Glancing at it, you say, “Oh! It’s Natasha. I told her I would let her know how Bob is doing. I need to take this.”

“Tell her I said hi.”

“I will. And, Bradley?” You had started to walk away but pause and look back at him. “I mean it. It wasn’t your fault.”

He gives you a small smile, but you both know that doesn’t mean he agrees with you.

Bradley borrows your car that afternoon so he can spend the night at home with his wife and then picks up Jake’s parents from the airport the next morning on his way back to the hospital. You spend the entire day trying your best to avoid bumping into them and you feel terrible about it. Last year, you had met them briefly at a banquet for the Dagger Squad. They both were incredibly kind, caring people and you knew that Mrs. Seresin was the sort of person who would want to comfort you and reassure you that Bob was going to be okay, despite the fact she was dealing with what happened to her son. And you couldn’t handle that at the moment.

So, you stay next to Bob’s bedside. When he is awake, you read to him or listen to music. A few times when he is extra alert or energized, the two of you discuss wedding plans. But you quickly excuse yourself to use the bathroom when he starts talking about seeing you walk down the aisle with the whole Dagger Squad at his side. Luckily, you manage to close the door before you start sobbing.

Later, when Bob is asleep, his doctor comes in to give you an update. Everything seems to be healing as expected and there is no sign of infection. It is more than you could have hoped for. However, as the doctor begins to leave, he casually mentions something that makes your heart freeze in your chest. You just nod politely and promise to fill Bob in on all the details, but as soon as the doctor has left the room, you pull out your phone and call Bradley.

When he picks up, you say, “Tomorrow. They’re doing it tomorrow. He’s going to find out tomorrow.”

Bradley sighs on the other end of the line. “You need to tell him beforehand. He should hear it from you.”

“I-I don’t know if I can,” you whisper.

“You said it yourself. He’s going to find out one way or another tomorrow anyway so you need to just tell him.”

You nod, even though you know he can’t see it. “I’ll try. But… you’ll be here tomorrow when…”

“Yeah. Of course.”

“Thank you, Bradley.” You turn as Bob begins to stir in his bed. “I have to go, but I’ll text you later.” And without waiting for a response, you hang up the phone.

Deep down, you knew you wouldn’t tell Bob the truth before it was time. But you did try. Every time there was a moment of silence between the two of you that night, you opened your mouth to say it, but nothing came out.

And then when he overheard a nurse mention they were going to change the bandages on his head tomorrow, he got so excited he was going to have a chance to see you and Bradley and Jake that you gave up even trying to tell him. There was no way you could now.

So, the next morning when a doctor comes in to change Bob’s bandages, you still haven’t told him. And as the doctor starts to make the first cut, Bob stops him. “Um, do you mind waiting just a minute? I think my friends were supposed to be here for this.”

You open your mouth to say something when the door flies open and Bradley sticks his head in. “Sorry! It took me longer than expected. I didn’t realize how hard this thing was to maneuver.”

With a grunt, he pushes a wheelchair into the room. The blond pilot sitting in it grins as he says, “We’ve all seen how you fly, Bradshaw. Is it such a surprise you have trouble maneuvering a chair?”

Bob grins. “Well, you two seem like your usual selves. Guess you didn’t get banged up too badly.”

Bradley snickers. “Hangman hit his head. Nothing important up there to damage.”

“Hey! I had swelling in my brain, thank you very much! That sounds pretty important to me!”

“Did you? Or did they just see your inflated ego and misdiagnose you?”

“Screw you! If I–”

“Gentlemen,” the doctor says, clearing his throat. “May I continue?”

Both Bradley and Jake mutter their apologies and the doctor picks up his scissors again. Silently, you cross the room so you are standing next to Bradley and you take his hand, squeezing it so tightly you can feel his knuckles shift in your grasp.

He looks down at your joined hands, then at your fear-stricken face and he knows you didn’t tell Bob. Paling slightly, he turns his attention back to his friend in the bed, squeezing your hand just as tightly in return.

The doctor finishes cutting through the gauze and begins unwrapping it from Bob’s head. When he is finished, he removes the two cotton pads that had been placed over Bob’s eyes. Slowly, Bob opens his eyes, a smile spread across his face.

But then he blinks. He blinks again. Softly, he shakes his head as he squeezes his eyes closed. And when he opens them again, the smile has dropped from his face. Somehow, you manage to squeeze Bradley’s hand even harder.

Jake, unaware that something is wrong, chuckles and says, “Goddamn, Bob. That nose looks gnarly. No wonder they had to hide your face from the world for a while.”

But Bob ignores him as, still blinking, he says, “Huh… I, uh, I don’t… I think something’s wrong.”

Slowly, the realization of what is happening passes over Jake’s face. Looking up from his wheelchair at you and Bradley, he says in a hushed voice full of disbelief, “You guys didn’t tell him...”

“Tell me what?” Bob asks, concern and fear dripping from every word.

“I-I couldn’t.” You turn to face Bob, tears spilling down your face. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know what to say.”

“What to sa– Guys, I can’t… Why can’t I–” His head jerks frantically between the three of you and you sob into your hands. Bradley was right, you should have told him.

Glancing at him, you silently beg Bradley to do what you aren’t strong enough to do. Meeting your eye, he nods slightly before saying, “Yeah, we know, buddy.”

He sighs heavily as he hangs his head. “They don’t know if it was from the windshield or your glasses, but a large shard of glass sliced the cornea of your left eye. They tried to fix it the best they could but even after it heals, they still expect you to have anywhere from partial to total blindness in that eye.”

Bob’s face pales as his bottom lip quivers slightly. In complete disbelief, his eyes turn to you. You are left gazing at one– a bright blue pool surrounded by a field of pure white –and the other– a blood-red stain surrounding the blue pool, causing an almost violet quality to his iris. However, the betrayal and pain on his face is more painful to look at than his injury.

You try reaching out to him, but he pulls his hand away. Sinking to the floor, tears still streaming down your cheeks, you whisper, “I’m sorry, Bobby. I’m so sorry.”

Part Three coming soon!

Taglist: @loverhymeswith, @babblydrabbly, @mayhem24-7forever, @11thstreetvigilante, @merlehs, @green-socks, @sunshineflowerchild789, @shanimallina87, @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy, @hederasgarden, @callsign-phoenix, @wildbornsiren, @lt-natrace, @the-untamed-soul, @inglourious-imagines, @airhogger, @piscesvancouverite, @straightforwardly, @bonnieelizabethparker, @srry-itshockeyszn, @flyinlove, @fandomhopped, @sweetheartlizzie07, @yjwnoot, @wanderdreamer, @callsign-fox, @imjess-themess, @joalsglasses, @curlyolly, @nobody7102, @footprintsinthesxnd, @thesewordsxlibrary, @double-j, @phoenix1389, @some-lovely-day

158 notes · View notes