For a moment Dylan forgot where he was. But the serious crick in his neck and the rhythmic beeping of equipment coming from various rooms snapped him back to reality.
A seriously messed up reality. Hearing the whole horrific story of what had happened to their mother had been bad enough. But the tidal wave of, there were no words.
No words for the gut wrenching feeling that had almost consumed Dylan as he saw his brother emerging from the darkness of the road just in time to see Norma being put in the back of Romero's SUV. The cry of anguish was like the shriek of a wild animal. He never would have believed his brother capable of such an explosion of movement, of such uncontrolled wildness, had it not been for their fight. It was like a tornado, one of those giant house crushing ones. And then without warning Norman dropped like a rock, out cold, his pulse racing like his heart would burst right out of his chest. But otherwise nothing. Until he came to in the ambulance, hysterically ranting about betrayal, lies. The paramedics, fearful that Norman might actually have some kind of heart attack, had no choice but to sedate him.
Dylan stood in the doorway watching his brother sleeping, an IV in his arm, a monitor recording the drug induced steady beating of his heart. The doctor, apparently the same one that had seen Norman the first time when, Dylan finally discovered, his brother had mysteriously passed out in the middle of a school test. The whole conversation was a blur of bizarre medical terms, worse case scenarios, possible diagnoses. Dylan felt like he was trapped under water, his body desperately crying for air. Or at least a cigarette. He knew he should quit but today was not the day for that. Not even close. But he couldn't the strength to walk outside. And then there was the queasy feeling in his stomach at the thought of leaving his brother alone for even that short of a time.
"Mr Bates?" A voice, female with a touch of a foreign accent, came from behind.
Dylan turned to find a young woman, maybe three or four years older than him, standing in the hall.
"Massett." Dylan said with a sleepy smile. "We're half brothers. You can just call me Dylan."
"I'm Kate Donnelley, from Social Services. Can I buy you a cup of coffee?"
Dylan looked back over his shoulder.
"The nurses will page me if he wakes up, but we really need to talk."