A New Kind Of Hell

Balz’s POV

When Devin hit me with a snowball, I declared a fight. When the other guys got involved, they declared war. I have to admit, it was probably one of the funniest things we did as friends in a long time. Don’t get me wrong, performing is amazing, but it feels like sometimes, that’s all we ever do. The snowball fight made us all laugh and smile at each other. We had no worries we were just having fun. That is until Devin face planted. It was hilarious as fuck to watch him just drop, but when he didn’t get up immediately, we knew something was wrong.

Within an instant, we were all at his side. He was laying face first in the snow. Chris carefully rolled him onto his back. Dev opened his eyes for a second before closing them again. There was blood in his hair and in the snow. Chris tried to keep him from passing out, but it was inevitable. Ricky checked Dev’s pulse and said that it was low but steady. Ryan pulled out his phone but we soon discovered that we had no cell phone reception.

“What do we do?” Ryan asked.

“We can put him in the van, in the front, near us, someone can watch over him. We’ll support his neck, elevate his feet a little bit and try to get him to the next hospital that we can. Hopefully if he does have any injuries, there not too severe and don’t need immediate attention.” Chris said.

We all nodded. Ryan got the van real close so we wouldn’t have to carry Devin too far. Chris picked him up and carried him bridal style. In all honesty, I think that was the only physical contact they’ve had in like 6 months, and Dev wasn’t even conscious. Chris laid him in the first row of seats before getting up into the passenger seat himself. I sat next to Dev (his feet were in my lap) and we had seat belted him in, so that if the van stopped and I couldn’t keep him from rolling of the bench seat, the seatbelt would slow down his momentum.

Once we had gained cell reception, Chris called Dev’s mom and asked her for more information on what to do. Once we figured out where the nearest hospital was, we drove a bit faster than the recommended speed limit. During that time, Dev had yet to regain consciousness. It wasn’t until we realized that our clothes were soaked from the snow, that Devin must be cold too. Taking off his soggy vans, his socks were socked with ice-cold water. Removing his socks, I then took off his jacket. When I moved his arm, I saw a tattoo. One that wasn’t there before.

“Do you guys remember Devin having a tattoo on his arm?” I asked.

“Better yet, do you remember him having tattoos on the inside of his fingers? It says, ‘living in a permanent imagination, sleeping to forget reality.’” I continued on.

“Nah.” Ricky answered.

“His knuckles say Lone Some.” I noted.

“How the hell have we not noticed?” Ricky asked.

“I don’t know, how often do we look at each other’s hands?” Ryan countered.

“Point taken.” Ricky answered him.

Feeling Devin’s forehead, it felt clammy. Checking his neck for a pulse, it was rapid and stressed. “Guys, his pulse is fast, and he feels clammy.” I said.

“Maybe he has hypothermia? Are his lips blue? How about his fingertips and toes? ” Vinny suggested.

Studying Devin, his lips were indeed blue and his fingers were very cold as well as his toes. Vinny passed me several blankets and Chris cranked up the Van’s heater. Devin’s jeans were soaked along with his shirt. “I don’t really feel comfortable taking his shirt and jeans off. It doesn’t feel right. Perhaps a 6-foot emo giant in the front seat could do that?” I said as I poked Chris and gave him the puppy eyes.

He sighed and then we carefully switched places as Ryan continued to drive. I watched from the front seat as Chris carefully pulled Dev’s jeans down and then put him in sweatpants that he grabbed from his own bag. He handed me one of his shirts and told me to hold it in front of the heater for a few minutes so it would be warm. Once it was nice and warm, Chris put it on Dev.

In all honesty, Dev looked like a human sized rag doll. Ryan announced that we were about 30 miles from the nearest hospital. I watched from the rearview mirror as Chris ran a thumb across Dev’s cheek before asking Vinny to grab Devin’s pill bag. The hospital would likely ask us what medicine he was taking and we would be able to supply them with that answer with us checking the bag.

As Chris was opening the bag, Dev began to move and looked like he was waking up. Chris quickly shoved the bag over his shoulder to Ricky and tried to play everything cool. Luckily for Chris, Devin didn’t wake up, but he did shift around. Devin had shifted so that he was snuggled into Chris’s side instead of lying down. Chris looked awkward for a moment before wrapping his arm around Devin and gently rubbed his back.

Chris and I made eye contact threw the mirror and gave me a death glare that pretty much said, “don’t say a thing or you’ll be dead and it will look like a bloody accident.” I put my hands up in defense and looked out the window.

Chris loved Devin and Devin loved Chris. That was simple. But Chris was with Sabrina, and Devin was alone. Chris also loved Sabrina. But we all knew that deep down somewhere underneath, he loved Devin just a bit more. Devin was one of his first loves, and that made it harder for him to leave. My hope is that when we resign to the label, Ricky, Ryan and I will try to negotiate the removal of that condition (no relationships between band members), in hopes that they can both be together.

As we pulled up to the hospital, Chris got out and carried Devin in bridal style with Ricky along side him as the rest of us parked the van and texted everyone to let them know that we were about 6 hours behind and not sure how long we would be delayed from getting to them.

As we went into the hospital, we got some pretty harsh stares from people. Shaking it off, we met with Chris and asked what was going on. Apparently the doctors had taken Devin in to be examined and we would find out what his condition was within the next thirty minutes to an hour.

The doctor asked what medications he was on, so Vinny went out and brought in the pill bag. Chris sat with it in his lap and pulled out a shit ton of bottles. There was a bottle of his schizophrenia medication, and a shit ton of Xanax. The bottle said there was supposed to be like 50 pills, but there was not many left. The prescription also looked to be new. Setting those aside, Chris pulled out more bottles. There looked to be three different types of sleeping medications, and an unmarked bottle of pills.

“Holy shit.” Ricky said.

“Holy shit is right.” Ryan agreed.

“How the hell did we not notice him taking so many damn medications?” Chris asked.

“He slept in the back, he must’ve hidden them and been taking them when he thought he was asleep. For the most part, they look like his normal medications.” I suggested.

“But the sleeping pills?” Ricky questioned.

“You and I both know that he had trouble sleeping. Maybe he got desperate and thought it would help him.” I reasoned.

“How about the Xanax?” Chris questioned.

“I don’t know about that.” I said shrugging.

“After what happened before, he wasn’t supposed to have access to it so easily. He got addicted really bad.” Chris said in a tone I couldn’t quite figure out.

“He knows how it went last time, I’m sure he’s being responsible. He seems to not have used all of it.” Ricky tried to reason.

“Family for Devin Sola.” A Nurse called out.

We all stood up and walked to her. “Right this way.” She said as she directed us down a hallway.

“Your friend is in a stable condition at the moment.” She said as she directed us into an empty room.

“We concluded from a CT scan, that he does not have a brain injury. However, he does have a bump on the side of his face that with some ice will go down in time. He was in the beginning stages of hypothermia, but we are slowly warming his body up and have supplied him with oxygen to help him. It appears that he has a case of pneumonia forming, and will need antibiotics for that. We’ve given him a dose already via IV. As we examined him, we noted that his left ankle was discolored and swollen a lot.”

Chris ran a hand through his hair and said, “How could I forget about the cold and his ankle. I’m a shit friend.”

“Pardon?” the nurse asked.

“ Many years ago, Devin was beaten up at school. This kid crushed his ankle or something like that. Anyways, in the cold, his ankle locks up and causes a lot of discomfort. We are a band on tour. We stopped at a rest stop and we had a snowball fight. The cold must have bothered him but he didn’t say anything.” Chris said.

“Well Mr.…” she started.

“Cerulli.” He answered.”

“Well, Mr. Cerulli, it is seems that its possible that his hypothermia set in and he could not feel his ankle swelling. His extremities were extremely cold.”

“We took his wet clothes off and changed him, and tried to warm him up.” I commented.

“That helped, but his hypothermia had set in long before. With the extent of his hypothermia, I would say that he had been exposed for about an hour or two, before he even realized.” She stated.

“We’ve driven for about an hour and 45 minutes to get here.”

“Alright, well still, the longer he was in his wet clothes, and cold, the more his body cooled down. Also with his medications, his body was already not functioning 100%.”

“What do you mean?” Ryan asked.

“It appears that he had recently taken a dosage of a sedative, along with the normal medications he takes. When those are mixed, they cause some damage to the immune system, meaning that he is more acceptable to germs and colds. He’s had the case of pneumonia for at least several days.” She answered.

“When can we see him?” Chris asked.

“As soon as now. I can take you there.”

We nodded and followed her to his room.

He lay in his hospital bed with a mask on his face supplying him with oxygen. In the back of his right hand, there was an IV supplying him with the antibiotics. On his head, there was a bit of gauze. The nurse said, “he had a small gash in his forehead, we cleaned it and wrapped it, nothing severe.” We nodded.

In all honesty, he looked like shit. He was far paler than his already pale skin. He was literally a ghost. The blue tinge in his lips was still present but it was slowly fading as time went by. Due to him being knocked out, Ricky talked to the nurse about a feeding tube for Dev if he was out for any longer. We all knew why he really suggested it. The fear we had that Devin was slipping was far greater than any fear that was tangible. Chris called Dev’s mom and informed her of Dev’s condition. The nurse here faxed the paperwork to his mom and she had it sent to Devin’s primary doctor.

We waited throughout the night, and into the morning for Devin to wake up. Chris and I stayed in the room while the rest of the guys slept in the van.

Surely enough, Devin woke up the next morning and was confused as hell to what was going on. But I could see in his eyes, that when he saw Chris there, something in his eyes changed. He had gone from alarmed to calm. I don’t know if Chris saw it, but in a way, I hoped he had.

Notes