He covered his face with his hand and willed it to stop. The feeling was peculiar, and one he didn’t quite understand. The tears were real enough, but there was no change in his breathing, or tightness in his chest.
Just a fucking wet face I could do without.
Dr. Howarth left the room. Someone else took his place. Whoever it was set something down on the bedside table, but didn’t speak. The familiar smell of rooibos tea drifted into Jed’s conscious mind, but he knew the new face in the room wasn’t Max.
He opened his eyes, expecting to see Anna, or maybe Carla. The last person he expected to see was Nick.
Day Five
JEDDREWhis hand over the bristly buzz of hair on Max’s unshaven head. The tight curls tickled his palm, but Max didn’t respond. He was fast asleep, slumped forward on the bed with his head on his arms.
Jed retracted his hand. It felt weird to be wide awake with Max sound asleep beside him. For months, it had been their own brand of normal, but as hard as he tried, he couldn’t recall the last time he’d had the privilege of seeing Max truly at peace.
Not that his uncomfortable catnap in the chair seemed particularly peaceful. The sporadic jolts through his body saw to that.
Jed turned his gaze to the window, content to have some much craved quiet time with Max. He’d thought he’d have more privacy back in the gastro department, but it seemed he was doomed to become a spectator sport. A different face stared back at him every time he opened his eyes, and some were more welcome than others.
His ICU encounter with Nick had been awkward. At that point, Jed could barely remember his own name, but heknewNick wasn’t supposed to be there. His explanation made little sense, and the warm mug of tea he held to his lips for him even less. Jed had drifted off soon after, not convinced he hadn’t imagined the whole thing. The next time he’d thought to ask, Max told him Nick had returned to rehab that very night.
A sudden blow to his kidney knocked the breath from Jed’s lungs. Max jolted awake with a violent jerk. His arm shot out again and caught Jed with another glancing blow to his ribs.
Jed felt the impact like a wrecking ball. White spots danced in front of his eyes, even as he reached out to restrain Max’s flailing arms, and nausea rolled deep in the pit of his stomach.
Don’t puke. Don’t puke. Don’t puke.
He didn’t, but by the time he’d collected himself, Max was on his feet, his hands clamped over his mouth in horror. “Oh, God, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”
Another fissure fractured Jed’s heart as he took in Max’s exhausted face and haunted, deep-circled dark eyes. Jed pressed a hand to his chest, as though he could push the pain away, and reached out with the other. “I’m… okay.” He stopped, reaching for breath that wasn’t there. “Max, I’m fine. It’s okay. Come here, Max. Please?”
Max stared at him, his expression torn, then he shook his head, backed away, and fled the room before Jed could find the words to stop him.
Fuck. Jed gritted his teeth and sat up, throwing his legs over the edge of the bed. He disconnected his IV, ready to go looking for Max, but faltered before his feet even hit the floor.
It took him a moment to figure out the problem, and when he did, he almost laughed. It seemed ironic that, for once, his body was way ahead of his mind, and he couldn’t remember how to put one foot in front of the other, or even why he wanted to do it.
And that was how Carla found him a little while later.
“Max is fine,” she said before he remembered to ask. “Dan took him back to the cabin to get some real rest. He’s been sleeping on my couch for the past two weeks.”
Jed winced as it all came rushing back. “Is he okay? He went….” He waved his hand in front of his eyes, grasping for the right words. “It wasn’t a seizure, but—”
Carla cut him off. “He’s fine, just exhausted. We’ll take care of him for you. Don’t ever worry about that.
Jed pulled her into a tight hug. “Thank you,” he said into her hair. “Will you stay with him?”
Carla kissed his cheek. “Of course, just don’t go dying in the night or anything fucktardy like that, okay? We all love you too much to go through that again.”
Day Seven
JED,
Feels weird to be writing this from the waiting room when you’re a few feet away, but that’s how it goes.
I don’t remember much about waking up in Louisiana, but I recall being all kinds of surprised to hear my mama talking at me in one ear and some Army doc in the other. That shit didn’t add up, and scared me wrong for a while, so we figured we’d give you some space.
I’m flying home today, but Glenn’s staying put. He’s gonna stay right there while you get better.
Now, don’t go grumbling your shit and digging your heels into the ground. I know what it’s like to wake up one day and not have clue who you are, or how you got to be that way. You wanna cry one minute and kill a man the next, right? Then you laugh like a crazy dude and just for a moment, it all goes away.