Page 102 of Surviving the Merge
Damon and I showered in the tiny bathroom and put on the clothes we came in, not wanting to walk around the hospital in scrubs. We got upstairs in time to see the doctors coming out of Sam’s room, about to address Mrs. Bailey and Norman. Our footsteps pounded as we picked up our pace.
“Her vitals are good. There isn’t much fluid draining out of her lungs anymore, and what is draining is clear. That’s also good. We want to take her for another brain scan today to see if the bruising we saw got any worse, better, or the same. We’ll also be checking on her liver. Once we have the results, we can form a better game plan. Ideally, we’d want to remove the liver packing and close her up in a couple days. Then, maybe a day or two after that, we’d like to remove the breathing tube and wake her up. We’ll know more about the head injury when we can actually talk to her. Someone will be around shortly to wheel her down to imaging.”
“Thank you, Doctor,” Norman said.
* * *
“I’m not leaving.I wouldn’t leave you here. Don’t ask me to leave her.”
We were on day four, and Sam had been steadily improving. They took her back into surgery and closed her up, the drains in her lungs had been removed, and another scan showed that the bruising of the brain was shrinking. Tomorrow, they would bring her out of sedation.
“Justin, we’ve been here for four nights, and we only had a bed for one of them. We both need rest and a good meal. Her family is here, Ash is here, and Max said he’d stay the night if that puts you at ease. She would want you to take care of yourself. We’ll be back before they wake her up tomorrow.”
“We have enough supplies here. We don’t need to go home. I know you have to get back to work; if you need to leave, I understand. I’ll be fine.”
His look turned dark. “You either walk out of here willingly, or I drag you out. But make no mistake, weareleaving.”
“You can’t make me leave,” I whisper-shouted.
Coming closer and backing me into the wall, he said, “Watch me.”
Plowing into the living room, I whirled around to face him. “What now, Damon? You got me here—what now? I go upstairs like a good boy and go to sleep?” I asked, childishly. He walked in maturely, and it irrationally pissed me off further.
“No. First, I’m going to take care of you.”
He had to be fucking with me. “Is that why you brought me here? My friend is laying in a hospital bed fighting for her life, and you wantsex? Jesus, Damon—”
“Would you say that I’m,” he paused to find the right word, “heartless?”
He moved on before I could answer.
“Would you even say I lack compassion? Or that I’m selfish?”
My shoulders drooped, and I ventured to the couch, dropping onto it unceremoniously. fell “No. To the first two. The third could be debated. You always try to do what youthinkis in my best interest. Although we may disagree on what that is from time to time, your intentions always reflect what you sincerely believe in your heart to be what’s best. I also know that you care about Sam, and I know you’re only trying to help me. I just want her to be okay.” I closed my eyes, resting my head along the back of the sofa.
“We’ve come a long way, Justin. Taking care of you doesn’t always equate to sex. Do you trust me to know what you need?”
I cracked one eye open to find Damon standing in front of me. “Yes, I do,” I said defeatedly.
“Don’t think tonight. Hand over the control. Or I take it.”
Thinking over the options presented to me, I opted to go with the less painful choice, for once. “What do you want me to do?”
“Let go of your anger, and before you argue that you aren’t angry, let’s not forget I’m an expert on the subject. It’s adding fuel to your already burning emotions. Sam’s an adult. She gets to make her own choices. Driving in those conditions—on a motorcycle no less—was a bad choice, but still hers to make. When she wakes up, she’s not going to need you to remind her of how bad things are because of her decision. She’ll figure that out all on her own. She’ll need her friend: your support, your love, and yourforgiveness.”
I soaked up every word, and, in giving up control to him, I gave up my hard feelings as well. Free and unburdened, I asked, “What else?”
“Take arealshower and put on something comfortable while I sort out arealmeal.”
Rising from the couch, I intended to intimately clutch my arms around him, but my limbs were intercepted and restrained at my sides.
“I can’t be that. Not now,” he said.
The firm set of his mouth screamed “don’t push,” but the look in his eyes spoke of nothing but regret.
“It’s okay. I don’t expect you to switch it on and off whenever it suits me,” I said. He released me, and I backed up. Searching his gaze for a sign that he was okay. He smirked, and I left the room to go do as he instructed.
My muscles relaxed inch by inch as the hot water pummeled down on me. My mind drifted to Damon and the differences between the him of today and a measly five nights ago. “My pain is no longer the biggest thing in the room,” he’d said. That might have been true, but he wasn’t without his struggles.
