Emil gave him a wobbly smile back and nodded. “You have no idea, Dad.”
EMIL HATEDthe wait the most. It took eight hours for him to be able to see Makai.
When he did see him, he had to take hold of the doorframe before his legs gave out from underneath. He’d never thought people really looked small in hospital beds. He’d thought it had to be a thing that was said for whatever reason.
Seeing Makai in that bed, though, his skin so pale and his gorgeous dark eyes closed, Emil understood. Normally, Makai was larger than life in a quiet way. Now, he was just quiet, too still.
“He’s unconscious still but doing well. He’ll wake up when his body finally decides it’s done enough healing,” the nurse who had introduced herself as Monica said and patted Emil’s shoulder. “He’ll be fine. Just give it time.”
Emil nodded mutely and went to sit in the chair Monica had moved next to the bed for him. He took Makai’s right hand. His left arm was in a cast because of the surgery they’d had to do to repair the damage to the ulna. There was metal in the arm now, something Emil knew Makai would find a way to joke about.
There were tubes here and there. Before Monica had let him into the room, she’d said there would be many of those. The oxygen prongs, the IV, the drainage thing going into Makai’s chest, and a catheter. Maybe others, Emil couldn’t remember.
He sat there for half an hour, holding on to Makai’s hand and listening to his heart monitor beep steadily. That one was a precaution, Monica had promised. Just because Makai was unconscious.
Emil put his head on the bed by their hands and tried to let himself rest.
He woke up when his mom came in and shook him awake.
“Emil, they’ll let you stay because your dad made a ruckus about it. But you need to eat.” She held out wrapped sandwiches and some apple slices in a box with a smaller container of peanut butter inside.
“Okay,” he said tiredly. He didn’t want to admit it, but he was feeling less hungry than he should’ve. He was also not thinking straight; his mind was trying to take control in a bad way. He knew it was PTSD, and he hated it, but he needed to be strong, betherefor Makai.
“I’ll sit with you until you’ve eaten at least half of these. And drunk one of these,” she said, digging out a bottle of Gatorade and another one of water from her huge handbag.
She sat on the other chair by the window and sighed. For some reason she didn’t say anything more, just watched him until he started to eat.
He got down one sandwich and some of the fruit before having to call it. He drank half of the Gatorade just because he knew it would help with how crappy he felt physically, and looked at Mom. “Happy?”
“No,” she sighed. “My son’s partner is unconscious in a hospital, and I’m afraid my son will start spiraling, so no, Emil, I’m not happy.”
Emil blinked. It wasn’t like her to be this direct. He wondered where this all came from. At least until there was a knock on the door and Evy peeked in. Emil dropped his head to his hands and groaned. “Really, Mom?”
“Really, Emil. Eat the rest before morning when I’ll come back with breakfast. I’ll go take care of the cats, too, if you give me a key.”
“Yeah, sure,” he said and handed her his keys. “Thank you. He—Weappreciate it.” He hugged her back and did his best not to tense when she kissed his cheek.
“See you in the morning.”
Mom left, and Evy took her chair. “I saw that,” she said plainly, and Emil tried not to tense further.
“Why are you here?” He could see her dreads from the corner of his eye, the now-green mass of them moving as she calmly changed position in the chair.
“Because you’re in a hospital, Emil.”
“I’m not in a hospital, Makai is.”
“Really? So… this right here”—she gestured around—“is not a hospital room?”
Emil shook his head and still refused to look at her properly. “I’m not the patient.”
“No, you’re not. But if you stop taking care of yourself immediately, it won’t take long for you to become one, now will it?”
He flinched at her words, even though the tone was kind. “I just ate. What more do you want?”
“I want you to sleep.”
He shook his head. She meant pills. “I don’t want those.”
