I awoke sluggishly to the sound of someone talking. The voice was smooth and deep, strangely familiar, but in my only half-awake state I couldn't manage place it. I was on a bed, and from the scattered noises I could hear, I was in a hospital. I tried opening my eyes, but as I did, a sharp pain stabbed at my temples, so I slid them shut again before I could see anything. I lay still, listening to the soft voice.
"Dammit, Tessa, this is all my fault. I shouldn't have dragged you into this, and now look at you. If you don't pull through…I don't know what I might do. The whole Romeo-Juliet bit." Tears sprung to my eyes. It was Rich.
I felt him lay his head down next to my hand, a small sob reaching my ears. I slowly and painfully moved my hand to stroke his soft hair.
Rich's head jerked up, and I let my hand drop. "Tessa!" He cried, grabbing my hand again. "Tessa, say something! Please!" He pleaded urgently.
"Rich?" I rasped through chapped and dry lips. I tried to open my eyes again, but felt more pain that sent stars exploding in my eyes. "Rich, where am I?" I cried softly, afraid.
"Tessa! Oh thank God!!" He started crying, and I squeezed his hand.
"Rich, what's going on?" I whispered. There was a long silence before he answered.
"My fucking pride got us in a car crash. You've got a major concussion. Hell, I didn't even get hurt. I've been so stupid…Tessa, I'm so sorry…"
I squeezed his hand again. "It's ok. It wasn't your fault."
"But it was! I should never have left…if I'd kept my bloody anger in, we wouldn't be here…God, this is all my fault," Rich whispered angrily, more frustrated at himself than at my condition. He stood up, releasing my hand. "I've got to go get the doctor to tell them you're awake." There was a short pause. "They didn't think you would make it." He added softly.
I mulled over this as his soft footsteps left the room. Slowly, the memories of last night came flooding back; the studio, Rich and Paul fighting, the car, the crash…
"She's awake?" A surprised female voice said; I figured this was my doctor. She and Rich exchanged a few words I couldn't make out, then I heard two pairs of footsteps enter.
"Good morning, Miss Roberts," The feminine voice greeted. "I'm Doctor Jennings, and I'm very pleased to see that you're awake!"
I smiled. Such confidence. "Thank you."
"How do you feel?" Dr. Jennings asked, placing a cool hand on my head, which I for once realized was bandaged.
"My head hurts. Terribly. I can't open my eyes because it hurts so much."
"You have a major concussion. I'll give you a few painkillers, and you should be better within an hour." A few pills were placed in my mouth, and a glass pressed to my lips. I drank eagerly, draining the glass quickly. The doctor left, telling Rich to keep a close eye on me if anything should develop. He sat down at my bedside again and we chatted idly for a few minutes. I still kept my eyes squeezed shut, the pain slowly subsiding.
Slowly, my head cleared, and I began to feel much better. The doctor was called back, and she took my temperature. "Good. Open your eyes, please, Miss Roberts," She asked gently.
"Please, call me Tessa," I replied. I slowly slid my eyes open, squinting slightly to avoid the bright lights.
But there were none. I sat up quickly, my head aching. "Careful, Tessa," Dr. Jennings said, putting a hand on my shoulder. I blinked rapidly, but nothing came into focus. "I can't see," I whispered.
"Excuse me?" She asked. "I didn't hear that."
"I can't see!" I cried, tears springing to my eyes. I put my arms out, and quickly Rich's strong hands grabbed mine.
"Doctor, what's going on?" He asked, clearly upset. There was an unbearable silence.
"Major concussions can occasionally cause blindness. This is not at all uncommon. Most regain their sight within a short period of time, but…" She paused.
"But what??" Rich cried, squeezing my trembling hand.
"In some cases, the loss of sight is permanent."
I started sobbing, and Rich held me tight, sitting next to me on the bed.
"There's nothing you can do?" He cried loudly, making my head ache. "That's it? She's just blind for Chrissakes?"
"Rich, please…" I whispered, squeezing his hand. He relaxed, letting the doctor speak.
"Tessa may regain her sight within anywhere from a few days to a few months. I'm afraid there's nothing we can do. You can see a specialist who may be able to tell you whether or not the damage is reversible." She sighed, obviously not thrilled to be the messenger of such news. "Until then, I recommend you try to relax. I'll leave you two alone and contact our resident specialist."
Rich nodded, and her soft footsteps let the room. As soon as I heard the door shut, I let loose. Tears poured down my face, and I shook, sobbing uncontrollably. Rich held me tight, rocking back and forth softly.
"Shh…Tessa, shh…" Rich soothed as I wept on his shoulder for what seemed like hours.
"Rich," I choked. "I can't see!"
"Shh…I know, love, I know…" From his strained voice, I could tell he was crying. I reached up with one shaking hand, touching his face. Rich's soft hair, his closed eyes, his nose, his cheeks, streaked with tears. He didn't protest as I made a mental picture of his face, my gentle fingertips tracing every feature of his face that I may never see again. I burst into tears again, my hands falling into my lap. Rich wrapped me in another hug, kissing my forehead softly. Just then, I heard the door open and three pair of reluctant footsteps entered.
"Ringo?" A tentative voice asked. George. Ringo nodded, and they stepped in, closing the door.
"We came as soon as we heard…" John said softly, trailing off.
"God, I'm so sorry…" Paul started, but Ringo lifted a hand to cut him off. Paul sighed. "The doctor told us everything. And…we just wanted to say…we're here if you need us." He finished, sighing.
I swallowed hard and broke away from Rich. "Well lads," I said shakily, rubbing my cheeks free of tears. "One of you sorry lot c'mere…" I sighed deeply, and Rich put a strong hand on my shoulder. "I need to start guessing who's who."
There was a confused silence, but eventually the bed creaked softly as someone sat in front of me. I held out my hands in the darkness, and two rough hands gently took hold my wrists and placed them on his face.
I gently explored his face with my fingertips. Long, stringy hair fell over his cheeks; soft, bushy eyebrows; thin lips; prominent cheekbones. I put my hands up to his eyes, but was met with a pair of small, rounded glasses. "John," I whispered. He pulled me close, hugging me to let me know I was right. After a minute, John stood up and another person sat at my side.
Soft, gentle hands led my hands to an equally soft face. Hair shorter than John's, but still shaggy; large, closed eyes with long eyelashes; tapered eyebrows and full lips. "Paul," I said softly, and he too hugged me tightly. Fresh, hot tears sprung to my eyes but I forced them back. "Well, come on, George," I said as Paul got up. "I know it's you, but I might as well anyway…" I trailed off. The bed leaned softly as George sat down, guiding my shaking fingers to his face with gentle hands. Straggly, thick hair, rather messy, I noted; thick eyebrows; soft lips, pursed and pulled tight; high cheekbones, slightly sunken cheeks. With a sigh, my hands dropped to my lap and George gathered me into a warm hug as the tears threatened to spill over. George released me and Rich returned to my side.
"You've had quite a shock, love," He soothed softly as I heard the others quietly leave. "You need to rest."
"But…" I started to protest as he gently lay me out on the bed. He pressed one finger to my lips.
"No buts. Doctor's orders. The boys and I are going to go update George Martin and the boys on your condition. I'll be back by dinner, I promise."
"Rich," I said, grabbing his wrist. "I don't know what time it is."
"Oh, I'm sorry…" I heard the rustling of Rich's sleeve as he checked his watch. "It's one o'clock now. I promise I'll be back before five." I nodded, and Rich wrapped me in another warm hug. "I love you, Tessa."
"I love you, Rich," I replied quietly into his soft coat. He kissed me softly on the lips, then broke away, and I was alone in the darkness. The door opened, and Rich hesitated until I lay down and shut my blind eyes. The door closed with a soft click, and I fell into a deep, restless sleep.
The four Beatles rode in silence, all piled into John's black car. Paul drove, knuckles white on the steering wheel. George stared forlornly out the window, deep in thought. John sat with his hands clasped in his lap, eyes fixed on his shoes. Rich leaned forward, elbows on his knees, hands covering his face.
"Ringo, I'm just sorry about…" Paul started.
"No, Paul. You don't need to apologize," Rich cut him off, mumbling through his long fingers. "This is all my fault. I should've listened to Tessa…god damn it…"
An uncomfortable silence prevailed, Paul staring at the road with glazed eyes as Rich mumbled angrily to himself. They stopped outside the studio, filing in slowly and dejectedly.
When they'd filled George Martin in on the whole situation, he was genuinely concerned for their mutual friend. "Ringo, are you all right?" He asked, looking at Ringo hunched in the corner.
"I'm fine." He muttered, face in his hands. Suddenly, Rich stood up quickly, pained realization flashing over his face. "I'm fucking fine. I get us into this whole bloody wreck, and Tessa gets hurt. Goddamnit!" He cried, a huge collection of pent up anger letting loose. "Why couldn't I have been blinded! Why did have to be Tessa??" The others gave him room, clearly taken aback by this sudden outburst, but in truth, waiting for it all along. "Fuck it all! God, why her? Why my Tessa??" He screamed. Suddenly, Rich whirled, and with one solid punch, smashed the window to the outside of the studio. The glass shards sprinkled the ground, and Rich fell to his knees, sobbing, his hand and forearm covered in blood where the glass had made deep cuts in his skin.
"Holy shit…" John breathed, running to Rich's side. "Rings, come on. Pick yourself up. It wasn't your fault." Rich didn't reply, sobbing so hard it shook his whole body. John helped him up, and the four of the Beatles headed back to the hospital.
"Rich, slow down!" I cried frantically, holding onto the seat so hard my nails started to tear. Rich didn't respond, eyes glued to the road. Ice covered the pavement, but Rich continued speeding, ignoring my protests.
"Rich, stop!" I cried, removing one shaking hand to try and grab the steering wheel. As I did, the car flew into an uncontrollable spin, and everything faded to an unbearable black.
I awoke abruptly with a loud cry, bathed in sweat. I sat bolt-upright, my eyes wide open but not seeing, my head pounding. With a quiet sob, I fell backwards onto my pillow, wiping the tears from my unseeing eyes.
The door opened quickly, and urgent footsteps ran to my bedside. "Tessa, is everything all right?"
I sighed quietly. "I'm fine, Dr. Jennings. I've just been having the worst nightmares…" I heard a rustling of papers and the snap of a clipboard before she replied.
"I'm afraid you're already on the highest dosage of pain killers, which prohibits any sort of sleep inducer," She said, almost apologetically. I laughed shakily as I felt her straighten out my helplessly tangled sheets.
"No, it's all right, doctor. I'll be quite all right." Dr. Jennings put a soft hand on my shoulder, and I smiled in the direction I supposed she was in.
"You're very brave, Tessa," She said softly. "I don't know many patients that lose their sight that handle it quite as well as you are."
"Thank you, doctor," I replied quietly, my smile fading slowly. Dr. Jennings squeezed my shoulder, then walked slowly from the room. She paused at the door.
"Do you want to see any visitors, Tessa? Are you feeling all right?" I nodded in the general direction of the door.
"I'll be fine, thank you."
"I'll send them in." The door clicked shut softly.
Them? Who could it be? I knew Rich would be back, but I though he had said he'd be alone. My brows knitting, I gingerly sat up, trying in vain to adjust the pillow behind me. The door opened, and I stopped, facing the origin of the sound. Footsteps slowly walked to where I sat, gently adjusting the pillow until I was sitting up.
"Thank you," I said politely, still confused. I reached out with my hands, hoping to find whoever it was I was addressing. I touched someone, but quickly withdrew my hands, embarrassed.
"I'm afraid you'll have to excuse me," I said slowly, feeling the redness creep up my face. "I'm not sure of who you are."
A pair of large but gentle hands took hold of my wrists, guiding them to the face. "Tell me what you see, Tessa," A deep, smooth voice instructed.
"But…I can't…" I stuttered confusedly.
"I know you can't see with your eyes. I'm here to help you see with your mind," The undoubtedly male voice stated. My brow furrowed, I gingerly explored his face, talking softly to myself as I went.
"Wide jawbone…round, slightly pointed nose…" I withdrew, feeling uncomfortable. "I…I'm sorry…" I said hastily, fresh tears threatening to spill down my cheeks.
"It's quite all right, Tessa," He responded quietly, grasping my hand. "I'm Doctor Simmons. I specialize in teaching blind patients how to cope with the sudden and often tragic removal of their sight." The door opened, and I looked up quickly.
"It's all right Tessa," Dr. Simmons' voice instructed softly. "This is one of your friends, but I want you to tell me who."
"But…but I…" I stopped, sighing in frustration. "I can't."
"Of course you can. Your friends informed me you did this before. I talked with them briefly, and what they told me about you was most extraordinary. But first…"
Dr. Simmons released my hand, and he was replaced at my bedside by this unknown friend. I moved to sit cross-legged on the hospital bed in order to reach this person more easily. I brought my hands up slowly, finding the person's head and shoulders with no help from any hands but my own. The hair was soft and silky between my exploring fingers. I moved my hands to the face, gently tracing along the person's features. I knew it had to be one of Beatles, of that much I could be sure. My fingers found a smooth forehead and slightly bushy eyebrows, so I ruled out Paul on the basis of his lightly tapered eyebrows. I moved my hands to his eyes, and when I encountered no glasses, almost ruled out John. The only reason I didn't exclude him was for the chance that he might have removed his glasses in an attempt to see just how good I was at this. Not being able to discern anything from the closed eyes, I traced my fingers lower, to the cheeks. What I felt surprised me. They were wet, streaked with fresh tears. My heart ached as I figured out who it was.
"Rich," I breathed softly, and he sobbed quietly, pulling me into a tight embrace. I pulled away slightly, embarrassed.
"Doctor, could you…"
"He's gone, Tess," Rich whispered in my ear. "He left as soon as you started."
I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. I never fully realized how helpless I was; I never could know if someone was there or not. I shook off this paranoid feeling as Rich pulled me close again, clinging to me like a frightened child. I realized that I might even be taking this better than he, but I quickly let that thought go. I held him tight, rocking back and forth slowly in silence. Stroking his hair gently, a few tears rolled down my cheeks. Rich shook with silent sobs, and we sat there for what seemed like an eternity.
After a long, long time, Rich pulled away slightly, gripping my hand in his own. My other hand stayed on his face, a primitive way to gauge his facial expressions. As he took my hand, my fingers brushed against a thin bandaging, and I felt his face tighten as he winced slightly.
"Did this happen during the crash?" I asked, but I didn't remember it being there before. Rich shook his head slowly.
"He punched through a studio window." I started, my head jerking up abruptly at the new voice. Rich turned angrily to the door.
"Christ, John, don't scare her!" He cried, and I returned my hand to his cheek, trying to reassure him it was all right.
"Rich, is that true?" I asked quietly. Rich didn't respond, only hanging his head and squeezing my hand gently. "Oh, Rich…" I breathed quietly, stroking his hair.
The bedsprings of the hospital bed creaked gently as John sat down, and I reached out with my hand, removing it from Rich's face. John took my outstretched hand, holding it reassuringly in his own. We sat in silence, deep in our thoughts.
