Chapter Six: At His Bedside
After getting socked in the face, Bosco sighed despondently and took the seat next to Hannibal. He jumped, startled, when his CO wrapped an arm around his shoulder and hugged him briefly. Face looked as if the fight had gone out of him when B.A. walked away. Regret shone in the deep blue eyes before they were again hidden by the ancient copy of "Men's Health."
"We still don't know anything yet, son." The words had barely left Hannibal's mouth when an older male doctor showed up, looking for the family of James Peterson. They left the otherwise empty waiting room and followed the man who had introduced himself as Dr. Ralph Wicker. He led them into a tiny office and invited them to sit before doing so himself.
Dr. Wicker steepled his fingers and looked each man in the eye before saying, "I'm going to be blunt because we don't have a lot of time to tiptoe around this. James' examination brought some troubling news."
Face gasped and clutched at his head as if he could halt any more unwanted news from piercing his ears. The other two merely stiffened, not ready to believe that Murdock wouldn't come out of this whole and happy. None said anything, taking the doctor at his word when he said time was of the essence.
"When we got him back I noticed some signs which were telling me he was suffering from elevated intracranial pressure, which is a fancy term meaning swelling of the brain. I had him undergo a CT scan which confirmed my original diagnosis."
"What needs to be done," Hannibal asked with a raspy voice.
The doctor sighed. "Normally we'd treat the patient with oxygen, fluids, and/or medication and keep a close eye on them until the swelling goes down on its own. But I'm afraid the severity of your son's case leaves us with no choice but to go in surgically and remove a piece of his skull."
Face jerked his head up and stared at the doctor as if he'd just said they were going to chop off Murdock's head and replace it with a goat's. His red splotchy face gave silent testament to the silent tears he'd shed. "You're going to take out part of his skull?!"
Dr. Wicker raised his hands in a placating manner. "Only a small piece of it. This will give his brain a little more room to swell without putting any additional pressure on it. The procedure is called a decompressive craniectomy, and I'll need your signed permission before we take him to surgery, Mr. Peterson."
Hannibal thought about it for a moment. "And if he doesn't go through with it?"
"Then he'll die," the doctor stated matter-of-factly.
Bosco covered his face with his hands and felt like screaming. Beside him Face gave a choked sob and stood up before turning away from the entire scene. Hannibal simply sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose before holding his hand out for the permission forms. He signed his alias to each one quickly before returning the clipboard. "Can we see him before you take him back?"
The doctor thought about it for a moment before nodding quickly. "I'll give you five minutes before sending him to get prepped for surgery." He stood up, and again met their eyes. "I know that all I've told you is difficult to hear, but I truly feel this procedure is James' best hope for survival. If it eases your minds, I'm not anticipating any complications."
Hannibal nodded. "Thank you doctor. I'd like to see my son now."
Murdock was unrecognizable. Face had spent two of their five allotted minutes staring at what they told him was his brother, but all he could see was tubes, wires, and machines. Bruises stood out stark against his pale skin, made more vivid by the white linens covering him. His hair, which earlier today had seemed almost blonde, appeared to have darkened nearly back to its normal shade in a matter of hours.
An oxygen mask covered his nose and mouth and his eyes were closed, as they had been the last time he'd seen him. Templeton nearly caused himself to start sobbing by wondering if he'd ever again see the green eyes open. Instead, he bit the inside of his cheek hard, letting the pain give him focus before reaching down to grab the cold hand. Hannibal was on the pilot's other side holding on to Murdock's left hand and was whispering something in his ear.
Bosco stood at the end of the bed, seeming almost angry in the face of what was going on. Templeton bent down to whisper his own words to his friend before they were forced to part ways. "Hey buddy. I don't know if you can hear me, but I'm gonna say this in case you can. Everything's gonna be alright and I'll be here waiting for you as soon as you come back from the operating room, okay?" He squeezed the icy fingers and rubbed them, absently trying to warm them up.
Face glanced up when he noticed they had come to take James. He bent down to place a kiss on H.M.'s temple. "I love you, man."
He watched with red and itchy eyes as the closest friend he'd ever had was swept away on a gurney.
Though he hadn't been a religious person since his childhood, Templeton decided the chapel would be his next stop.
Bosco watched as Hannibal and Face each spoke to the unconscious man. When the colonel pulled away, he motioned for the big guy to come forward and take his place. Scared to death, B.A. hesitantly took the pilot's hand.
He squeezed it gently, as if too much pressure would cause his friend irreparable damage. He placed a kiss on the back of the appendage and bent down closer to James' ear. "I'm so sorry, little brother. I know you hate hospitals, and I can't tell you how sorry I am that I'm the reason you're in this one. All I can say is I am gonna make it up to you when you come home."
He gently pushed H.M.'s hair out of his face. "And I promise you I will be bringing you home."
To be continued….
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