At Reed\'s obviously-pained plea, Tom barged his way through the gathered group - practically knocking Dex, who was far smaller than he, flying into the water - and knelt beside his friend. He did as his friend had, having been watching where Reed had been touching, but lifted the mortal\'s shirt to get a better look. A bruise had already sprung up on the flesh over his ribcage, further alarming Tom. "Something\'s wrong, inside him," he said forcefully, staring straight into the eyes of the guide opposite him.
So began The Hospital Adventure. The guide looked around them to get his bearings, nodded and then said he\'d go to get a vehicle that would be able to transport Reed to a nearby hospital - or even call an ambulance straight up. The vampire stated that he believed the ambulance was the best option and the guide raced off to do his bidding. He lowered Reed\'s shirt and frowned into his eyes, letting the others talk to his friend but not feeling compelled - or capable of - speaking any more just yet. They hypothesised that it was just a broken rib - and hell, who hadn\'t had one of them? - and that all would be well with some strapping, then proceeded to laugh and joke about all their prior broken bone experiences.
Tom was quite disgusted that Reed attempted to join in on the inane banter, and raised himself up onto his feet so that he could stay a few paces away and watch for the guide or listen for an ambulance\'s siren instead. None of the others minded too much, their stories weren\'t slowed in the slightest and they barely spared him a glance as he paced around jiltedly, his hands fidgeting from his neck to his pockets to his helmet (which he removed, realising that their adventure for this night was well and truly over). Carrying it distracted him from wanting to hold Reed\'s hand, anyway.
It seemed an eternity before he picked up the wail of a tell-tale siren, even longer before anyone else heard it and began making noises about how it wouldn\'t be long before Reed would be all fixed up. The guide turned up with a flashlight that bordered on \'spotlight\', leading the ambulance and crew as close as possible to where he\'d left their tragic little group, and then everything was a blur of activity as paramedics approached and questioned Reed, touching his ribs, declaring they believed his lung wasn\'t pierced and getting him into the ambulance.
Tom\'s anger only grew and he couldn\'t exactly say why, but by the time Nick had blithely climbed into the back of the ambulance with Reed and one of the emergency workers - to be the token \'family member\' that would accompany them to the hospital to give over Reed\'s details - his jaw was clenched so tightly he couldn\'t even speak. Not to say he wanted to go with Reed, not even to say he would go with the guide in his car behind the ambulance, so that he could get the full details of Reed\'s condition for insurance and incident report purposes.
He didn\'t want any part of it; of any of them and their stupid fucking bullshit stories, of waiting for Reed to be x-rayed and given the all clear. He\'d nearly died and Tom hated them all for it. Them and their fucking frailties.
He and Marshall stayed behind at the camp grounds, while Chant went with the guide just for a look, and Tom was happy enough to spend the night crankily playing pool with his other companion. Marshall wasn\'t so talkative, either, and so they had countless games without a word being spoken.
Since it was a popular tourist spot, however, they soon attracted some attention from the pretty young things that were also visiting the adventure camp. It seemed that Marshall had already been flirting with them earlier and their conversation was quite familiar as he relayed the disastrous tale of Reed\'s near-drowning. It was the last straw for Tom, who dropped his cue on the pool table abruptly and declared he was jetlagged and needed a rest in the most taciturn manner he\'d probably ever spoken to Marshall in. He ignored the eyes the girls were making at him and his blonde-haired friend - who was, by far, the most ordinary looking of the group - seemed happy enough to let him go to his room. Once there, he showered and changed into a dry pair of jeans then simply... sat on the bed and stared at the wall, his thoughts in turmoil and his being just as disrupted.
Reed could have died.
It was all he could think, to contemplate how close he\'d come to having... no-one. Forever. It was very hard to take.
Eventually, numerous voices moved along the walkway outside the rooms and he realised that Reed was back and being escorted by the boys - plus Marshall\'s groupies, by the sound of it - but he stayed where he was, listening and just staring. A lot of giggling and frivolity ensued, making him realise that Reed\'s room was beside him - at his back - and it only made the negative feelings he\'d slowly been losing start to return.
After maybe an hour, the party moved on from Reed\'s room, heading back towards the common room with a lot of shouted wishes for a good rest and fast recuperation - from the girls that didnt even know Reed from a bar of soap. Tom realised that he was in there alone and the war within himself rose to a new level, as he contemplated whether he should stay or go in and check on his friend.
The need to see that Reed was healing won out and he stood silently, opening his door a crack and peering out to check that no-one was around, before he slipped out, closed his door and opened Reed\'s. He slipped in just as quietly, looking straight at his friend - predictably, bandaged like a mummy and laying on his bed - and then padding over to lay himself carefully on the mattress beside him. He grabbed a pillow, resting his head on it and laying on his stomach as he stared wordlessly up at Reed, just... glad that he was able to keep looking at him. Alive.
