Page 116 of Johnathan

“Abby?” John called after her, but there wasn’t time.

Her hands hit against the door, legs burning as they worked to get her to the toilet. Slamming her knees onto the tile floor, Abby’s stomach cramped as she emptied its contents.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she heard the door swinging open and the faucet being turned on, but she was too lost to the painful spasms to worry about whoever had to hear her get sick.

That was, until her hair lifted off her neck, and a cold cloth was placed across her overheated skin. A familiar hand landed on her back and steadied her.

“Just breathe, baby. I’ve got you. You’re going to be okay.” John crooned those words over and over again into her ear until her sobs quieted. She turned, burying her face in his chest as her arms wrapped around him.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking weak, and I hate it! I hate that I can’t be here without completely falling apart and making it about what I went through. What selfish bitch does that?”

“Stop. You are not weak. You are so incredibly strong, and I’m sorry I didn’t see that you were struggling.”

“I am. I’m losing it!” Her laugh bordered on hysterical. “I’m in this fucking bathroom, puking my guts out because I can’t stand the smell of some industrial cleaner? Because the fluorescent lights are making me want to scratch my skin off?”

“Stop. Right now. You need to stop saying those things about yourself because you are the strongest woman I know.”

“You literally saved Sam’s life and drove me here while keeping me from falling apart. You’re taking care of me now when you should be at home with Katy.”

He didn’t respond, but from the look in his eyes, she could tell he still felt guilty.

“Are you still feeling sick?”

She shook her head, reaching behind to pull the wet towel off her neck. She ran it over her forehead and down her chest. The cold had faded, but it still helped ground her.

“Come on.” He cleared his voice as he stood up behind her. Abby expected John to help her stand, too. Instead, he slipped his arms under her legs and behind her back, lifting her.

“You don’t have to carry me.”

“Yes, I do.” His voice was tight, and she could tell he was also struggling. So she did her best not to protest and wrapped her arms around his neck. When he turned away from the waiting room and towards the large doors they walked through together earlier, her body went stiff.

“Where are we going?”

“I think we need some fresh air. To sit out under the sky for a few minutes and just breathe.”

“But what if they come to update about Sam?”

“Your mom can talk to them. Either way, the news isn’t going to change if we are there or not.”

“But I should be there with her. If it’s bad, she’s going to fall apart.”

“My parents are there. They’ll help.”

John walked them to one of the benches in the courtyard of the hospital, the sun hiding behind the stormy clouds.

“I think it’s going to rain soon.”

“Maybe. We’ll go back inside if it starts to.”

“I’m really scared, John.”

“Me too, baby.”

“What if he doesn’t wake up?”

“I’m with your mom. He made it this far. He beat the odds. Sam is stubborn, just like you told me your dad was. Maybe he’s looking down right now and having a little hand in making sure Sam stays.”

“I really hope so.”

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