My mom holds my hand as we walk in and the entirety of the situation hits me. We’re going to the hospital. I was told to rush to the hospital as soon as I could and my mom wouldn’t tell me why.
Surely it can’t be anything bad, especially if my mom isn’t crying.
Yet as we take the elevator up and I’m hit with thesmelland the remembrance of all the hours I’ve spent here, I can’t help the bubble of dread that forces itself up my throat. I want to gag, to dispel the negative feelings and purge them from me.
There’s no one waiting outside of Raiden’s closed door. It’s hardly ever closed anymore. We decided to keep it open to help with the air flow and the stream of nurses stopping by to say hi. Everyone loves Raiden, even when he’s not awake and able to talk, he still is leaving his mark on people.
“What are we waiting on?” I twist the doorknob in my hand, feeling the cold metal seeping into my skin and I freeze. What if I’m not ready to see what’s waiting for me on the other side of the door? I can’t let my hopes get up that Raiden is actually awake.
But I’ve been waiting for this moment for months and drawing it out any longer isn’t going to prevent the inevitable.
No matter what’s waiting for me on the other side of this door, I’m strong enough to face it head on.
I push it open, the quiet creak of the pressure the only thing letting me know that I’m actually entering this room that I’ve spent countless hours in, watching Raiden and filling him in on all the small details he’s missing out on.
Ema and Rodney are the first that my eyes flit to, both of them sitting on the seat beside Raiden’s bed. The two of them wrapped in each other and there’s tears streaming down their cheeks.
I choke out a breath, realizing that in those few minutes I did let my hopes grow. I let them take root and grow into large, cumbersome trees that I’ll never be able to get rid of. I can cut them down and dispose of them, but they’ll always find a way to grow back, stronger than ever. That's the fickle thing about hope, no matter how hard you try not to have it, it’s always there in the back of your mind, holding onto the moment and waiting for the most inopportune time to show itself.
“Are you going to come over here and kiss me or stare at my parents all day?”
39
JERICHO
“Are you going to come over here and kiss me or stare at my parents all day?” The raspy voice asks me and I freeze, not believing my ears. It's a sick, horrible, awful, twisted prank my mind is playing on me.
That’s his voice. I would recognize it in every life I live. He’s talking. He’s talking tome.
I rotate my body, risking my sanity to look at the bed in the middle of the room.
Brown eyes meet mine and I crumble, shattering into pieces as I hit my knees on the unforgiving floor of the hospital.
Even in my wildest dreams, I’m not sure if I really let myself believe that he would look at me again. With those brown eyes I love so much, they have bags underneath them, the slight purple hue sinking into his skin and making them look like a bruise.
He’s still beautiful, though. Just as gorgeous as he was when I saw him for the first time at thirteen years old. The boy who held my hand on our first day of highschool. The man who held me and unknowingly helped me fight my demons.
The sobs rack my chest, shaking my body as I feel the cathartic release of the stress I’ve been holding.
He’s awake. Raiden is awake and he’s talking and he’s…
“So is that a good cry like you’re crying in happiness or anoh no he’s alive and my plans have been thwartedcry?”
I choke out a laugh. Or probably a sob. Whatever it is, I’m unsure but I slowly push myself off the floor, resisting the urge to ball up there and continue living on in this dream. Because if I wake up, I’ll be devastated.
Approaching the bed slowly, Raiden extends his hand out to me. The IV is nestled in the same vein it’s been in, his hand is pale and the other veins are a deep blue against his skin. I hesitantly reach my hand towards his, waiting for the sick joke of all of this to be my imagination to shock my system.
But it never happens. His fingers brush mine and I can’t fight against the bolt of electricity that flows between us.
“Raiden,” I croak, grasping his hand gently in mine, to not hurt him or disrupt the cords attached to him. He smiles, it's an exhausted one, but his eyes are light with life and I can’t find it in me to say anything else as he tugs on me as hard as he can, which isn’t much compared to what he used to be capable of, but we’ll work on growing his muscles stronger. Now that he’s awake, we have our whole lives to live.
“Jericho,” he says and his eyes slowly slide closed. I panic, my chest heaving with deep breaths as I watch the paper thin skin of his eyelids shift over his irises, hiding them from my sight again.
“No, tiny dancer, you have to stay awake. You can’t leave me.”Not again,I plead, I just got him back.
“I’m not dying, I’m just exhausted,” he remarks, his eyes barely opening to look at me.
Oh, wow, okay. At least I know that the months he spent in a coma didn’t change his attitude any. He’s still the snarky, sassy man I love.
