The Fith time
David sat in the chair, his eyes never leaving the still form on the hospital bed. The low hum of the machines and the heart monitor had long since sunk to the back of his subconscious, only resurfacing if the rhythm happened to change. As he watched the slow rise and fall of breathing, he could feel his own heart rate pounding in his ears.
4 times. He could count 4 other times when he sat by his unconscious brother's hospital bedside; hoping that this won't be the end for him, that his little brother will somehow manage to beat the odds, that John Sheppard wasn't going to die.
Chapter 1: Mom would know what to do
"John, you didn't' eat anything." David watched his five year old brother stare at the plate in front of him. "John?" He waited till his brother turned to look at him. His eyes were sunken and dark rimmed while his cheek bones stuck out in great contrast. "You need to eat something." After a tense moment John climbed down from his chair and walked away from his dinner, never having touched a bite. He'd been doing a lot of that lately; ever since Mom died.
David missed his mother just as much as his younger brother did, but knew better than to starve himself. He had tried everything to get John to eat but his brother just didn't seem interested. Instead, he spent most of his time sitting somewhere and just staring. It had gotten to the point where he barely spoke.
Of course he had told his father but Patrick Sheppard was a busy man and he seemed to be enjoying the new quieter version of his hyperactive son. Where he once was unable to keep John still seemed no longer a problem. In his mind, it was just one less thing he had to deal with.
The death of Sarah Alice Sheppard was sudden; a car accident while she was on her way to pick up John from pre-school. In the chaos that followed, John had been forgotten. She had died before John had met up with them at the hospital, and so he was the only one that hadn't said goodbye. The funeral was on a cloudy Saturday and both boys were on their best behaviour. David was the only one who noticed the absence of any life in John that day. He let himself be ushered along like a lost puppy. As the days and weeks went by, it got worse. John no longer ate or spoke. There was something wrong but he didn't know what it was. At times he felt angry towards his brother, thinking that this was just John's way of getting attention; that he was playing the pity card.
He spent the evening reading and playing by himself. Before turning in for the night, he decided to check on his brother. As he walked into John's room, he quickly found him lying on the carpet by his bed. "John" Quickly he crouched down by his side, trying to wake him by gently shaking his shoulder. When he didn't wake, David shook harder.
"DAD! DAD!" He slowly turned John onto his side, surprised by how light he was. His skin was pale and his breathing was barely noticeable. "SOMEBODY HELP ME!"
A house maid came sweeping in, taking in John's vitals and hoisting him into her arms as she raced down the hall to the main floor. Within minutes an ambulance was there carting him away to the awaiting hospital.
When David was allowed to see him, John was lying in a bed that was much too big for him. He made his way to his brother's side, listening to the conversion in the hall between the doctor and his father. Apparently, John was in shock. He had no idea what it meant but just by looking at his brother's still form, he knew it wasn't good. He was half the size he was a month ago and his skin colour was too dull. After some times, the doctor came to talk to him.
He explained to David that John was having a really hard time adjusting to Mom being gone, and as the older brother, it was his job the help out as much as he could. And that's exactly what David did. It took nearly a year to get the smiling hyperactive John back, but he did. And he vowed he would never let something like that happen again.