Spring Semester, Sophomore Year

Chapter 28: Only Heathens Go To SLU

"Kevin, sweetie." Kevin had been laying in bed on his side about to doze off when he heard his mother's voice. He cracked his eyes open and silently looked up at her.

"Your father's here," she said.

Kevin saw Mr. Price standing by her, and his eyes shifted. He hadn't seen his dad at all since that first night in the ER. Even so, Kevin knew his actions had disappointed him more than he'd ever thought possible.

Mrs. Price gave her husband a little pat on the shoulder to urge him forward, and he stepped closer to Kevin's bed. The two locked eyes for a split second, neither one sure what to say, before Kevin quickly glanced away. After a moment, Mr. Price gestured down to the otter in Kevin's hands and said, "You still have that silly thing?"

"Gerald," he heard his mother quietly admonish. In response, his father whispered, "It's a child's toy, Beverly. He's an adult."

Kevin merely hugged the otter closer to his chest. Mr. Price sighed and settled into one of the chairs by his bed. "Kevin," he began wearily, shaking his head. "This—this thing you've done, well…this is why we told you to stay with the church. What have you gotten yourself into, son?"

Kevin tucked his head a little further into the pillow.

"Kevin," Mr. Price persisted. "Kevin, answer me." When Kevin remained quiet, he said, "At least look at me."

But Kevin couldn't look at him, not now that he had failed him yet again. It had been different when he'd been kicked out of the church. Though his parents had been completely devastated, Kevin was so certain he could prove it was for the better, that he could still become something incredible and make them proud. But that was all gone now. Now he'd hurt them far worse, and he was too exhausted to do anything about it.

When he got no response, Mr. Price shook his head once more. "I'm bringing Bishop Gunderson in to see you," he said. "We'll fix this and get you back on track."

That was when Kevin finally felt the need to reply. "No," he quietly croaked out. "I don't want to see him."

"Kevin, honey," his mom tentatively began, perching in the seat next to her husband and placing a hand on Kevin's shoulder.

"I don't want to," Kevin insisted. "You can't save me, okay?" He could feel her hand tense.

"Don't be ridiculous," Mr. Price said with a tight voice. "He's coming here whether you like it or not. It's for your own good."

"They won't let him in if I tell them not to," Kevin answered. He knew neither of his parents would be able to counter that; it was true, after all.

A heavy silence fell over the room for a minute, before Mr. Price let out a frustrated groan.

"What exactly do you expect us to do for you?" he cried. When he threw his hands up in exasperation, Kevin flinched hard enough that his mother jerked her hand back. He'd thought, for one short moment, that his father was going to hit him. He didn't know why he'd thought that—he'd never hit him before—but even so, it had still been the first thing to cross his mind.

Mr. Price had clearly noticed the reaction, because when Kevin warily looked back up at him, he'd slumped down in his seat, defeated. "What's happened to you, son?" His eyes were misty. "I don't even recognize you anymore."

Mrs. Price gripped her husband's arm and hissed, "Don't." But it was too late; his words had already hit Kevin like a sledgehammer, just when he'd thought he couldn't feel any worse. He flipped onto his other side so his back was facing them and pulled the sheet up over his head. When his face was safely shielded from view, he let a few tears fall and silently willed them both to leave him in peace.


A Few Hours Later

Kevin had just woken up from yet another nap and was staring dully at the curtain separating the two halves of the room when he heard one of the nurses drop off another visitor. He didn't bother turning around; assuming it was probably just his mom stopping by again after lunch. Thus, his heart skipped a beat when he heard Connor's voice.

"Hi," he whispered, stepping up to the edge of the bed. "You awake?"

Kevin shifted onto his back and looked up to see him giving him a sad smile. "I dropped by yesterday afternoon," Connor continued, his voice soft and soothing. "But your mom was with you and I…well." He sat down in the first chair and continued, "Are you feeling any better?"

Better definitely wasn't the right word. He felt as awful as ever, even more so since he didn't know whether to grab hold of Connor and beg him never to leave or scream for the nurse to send him away, because he hated the other seeing him like this. Hell, he hated anyone seeing him like this, but especially Connor. Not for the first time, Kevin found himself wondering why, just why, someone had to find him that night in the library. Honestly, why did he even do it in the library? Why didn't he have the sense go back to his room, where he was safely locked away from the rest of humanity?

"No," he flatly answered Connor's question.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Connor said sympathetically. He looked Kevin up and down and said, "Have you left this bed since you got here? Maybe some exercise would help. Want to check with the nurse and see if we can go for a walk? It's a beautiful day."

"I don't want to go for a walk," Kevin said adamantly, though his voice was still detached as ever. "Did my doctor put you up to this? God, I'm tired of people trying to get me to go for a walk."

"Okay," Connor quickly replied. "Okay, that's fine. We don't have to." He tentatively reached forward and put his hand on Kevin's shoulder. "Look, I…I want to tell you that I'm sorry none of us realized sooner how badly you were hurting. When I found out what happened, I…gosh, Kevin, I was so…" he cleared his throat. "But just know that we're all here for you now, all right? I know what it's like to feel like your whole world's falling apart, and I don't want you to—"

"Well, the difference is you never tried to kill yourself," Kevin said dryly.

"I thought about it," Connor admitted. "When I was younger. But this isn't about me. Just—look, Kev, I know you've probably heard this a million times by now, but we all love you, okay?"

Somewhere, back in some tiny part of Kevin's brain, it felt good to hear him say that. It felt good to lay here, feeling the touch of Connor's hand on his shoulder and soaking in the warmth he seemed to radiate with his mere presence. But that part of his mind was currently drowning in the sea of overwhelming despair he felt, and he couldn't muster up a proper response.

They spent the next several minutes in silence, until Kevin felt his eyelids once again getting heavy.

"Are you tired?" Connor asked, pulling his hand away. "I'll let you get some rest."

He stood up, and Kevin found himself reaching over to grasp his arm. Connor paused.

"Don't go," Kevin pleaded. "Can you just, um, stay with me for a while?"

"Of course," Connor said, sitting back down with a reassuring smile.

Kevin closed his eyes, and after a minute or two he figured Connor must have thought he was already asleep, since, he began running his fingers through Kevin's hair. Unwilling to alert him to the truth, Kevin focused on the relaxing ministrations until he drifted off into yet another nap.


Later That Afternoon

When the nurse dropped off his fourth visitor of the day, Kevin was less than thrilled.

"I don't want to see you," he told Brynn, lying flat on his back with an arm over his face to shield his eyes from the light. When a small, lumpy package hit his head with a crinkle, he let out an annoyed groan.

"I brought you peanut M&Ms," Brynn explained, undeterred. "Naba said they're your favorite. She tried to visit you this morning, by the way. You were asleep, though."

Kevin remained in his position, thoroughly conflicted. Brynn was the last person he wanted to deal with right now. But the food the nurses forced him to eat here was so bland, so carefully controlled, that of course the package of chocolatey goodness currently resting by his temple seemed very appealing. He used every ounce of strength he had to reach over and grasp it, then sat up and tore the paper open.

"They're really weird about bringing food back here," Brynn said. "I wasn't sure they'd let me give you those, so I stuffed them up inside my bra before they checked me over. You don't mind, right?" She shot a glance over at the door and said, "Better eat those quick in case someone comes in."

Kevin shrugged and popped a few in his mouth. Funny how they could still taste so good when everything seemed so bleak. "Thanks," he mumbled. "But why are you here?"

Brynn faltered for an explanation. "I…" she began. "It's just—look, when I told you Ira was a drug dealer, I didn't mean you were supposed to buy his shit."

Kevin ate another handful of M&Ms, and Brynn didn't press him for a response. Clearly uncomfortable with the silence that settled between them, she began examining the cards on his nightstand. When she came across the smallest one, her eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"You have a get-well card from Dr. Brenner?" she asked. She picked it up and quickly skimmed the message. "He's giving you an incomplete? Damn, that's pretty good. If he's willing to do it, then the rest of them should go for that, too, right?"

Kevin finished the M&Ms and slumped back down. "It doesn't matter," he said. "I'm not going back."

"Yes you are."

"No, I'm not."

"You are, too. Come on, Kevin, what else are you gonna do? Lay in that bed and feel sorry for yourself forever? Keep trying to off yourself until they stick someone in here to watch you 24/7? The Kevin Price I know and hate is better than that."

Kevin glared at her. "You're being really rude."

Brynn's mouth quirked upward in a small smile. "Would you expect anything different from me?" she said. "Come on now, I hid candy in my bra; I've met my good deed quota for the day. Look, just try doing what the doctors say, all right? You've got nothing better to do in here. Get those meds out of your system, go to druggies anonymous or whatever. Then you can come back to school, finish up this semester's classes on a high note, and get a fresh start."

She finished that spiel and gave him a rare encouraging smile. "And hey," she continued. "Next time I visit, I'll bring you one of those Starbucks bottled iced coffee things. They're probably not letting you have any caffeine, right? No wonder you're so depressed. I'll smuggle it in up my vagina." Upon seeing his incredulous expression, she added, "What, you don't think it'll fit? You'd be surprised."

Kevin shook his head. "I don't want anything that's been up there," he said. "And so you have any idea what you're saying? You're basically telling me to just get better. If it were that easy, don't you think I would've done it already? Why do you even care, anyway? You hate me. You just said so."

"I do hate you, Kevin. But life would be really boring without you, and there are a lot of other people who care about you." She glanced up at the clock and stood up. "I have to go; my shift starts in fifteen. But hey, I know you can't just get better. So, maybe for now, just don't give up. One day at a time and all that shit."

She then picked up the empty wrapper, muttered something about hiding the evidence, and took her leave. Kevin stared up at the ceiling and strongly considered telling the staff to never, ever let her come back.


That Evening

Less than a year ago, Kevin would have found the idea of sleeping sixteen-plus hours a day absurd. Now the idea of any less was utterly exhausting. He woke up that evening to the sound of hushed voices, and as he gradually became more coherent, he recognized them as his parents. He could see their outlines behind the curtain; they were sitting side by side on the vacant bed and clearly hadn't realized he was now awake.

"Dr. Clemmons says he isn't stable enough to go home," his mother was saying. "He recommends either keeping him here or moving him to an in-patient private rehab facility. He's willing to discharge him if we do that, and he suggested place in the city—I don't remember the name, but I wrote it down. I think Kevin might respond a little better there; goodness knows he's not exactly thriving here."

"Is it affiliated with the church?" his dad asked.

"No. Dr. Clemmons doesn't think he'd take very well to that. It's going to be expensive, but they take our insurance. We can dip into savings, pull some from his college fund if we have to. And I hate to rely on charity, but I'm sure the congregation will be willing to help us if we absolutely need—"

"No," Mr. Price cut her off. "No, we aren't sending him off to some secular quack that'll only make this worse. He needs the church, Beverly."

"But Dr. Clemmons said—"

"I don't care what Dr. Clemmons said. I know my son." He snorted and went on. "Of course that doctor isn't going to recommend anything affiliated with the church; he's not Mormon. I saw his diploma. Saint Louis University. Do you really want to take the advice of a man who went to a Jesuit school?"

"It's a very good school, dear."

"I don't care. We aren't sending Kevin to that place in the city. Bishop Gunderson had some great suggestions for programs he could—"

"Bishop Gunderson didn't go to medical school, Gerald!" Kevin blinked in surprise at his mother's outburst. It wasn't loud; they were trying to be quiet, after all. But never once, in his entire life, had he ever heard her stand up to his father, or speak to him forcefully in any manner.

"I don't think you realize just what happened here," she went on. "Kevin almost died. If that student hadn't found him in time, he would've—we almost had to bury our son. A month before his twenty-third birthday. Right there in the plot next to your father, and I…I can't do it, Gerald! I am not going to bury any of our children."

She paused then, and when she spoke again, her voice was slightly shaky. "So if this Midwestern, Jesuit so-called heathen doctor with years of experience and training thinks a secular rehab facility can keep my baby from trying to kill himself, and maybe even make him smile again, then by all means I'm gonna take his advice. And I love you, dear, but right now I don't give a damn what you have to say about this."

Mr. Price was dead silent, and Kevin simply lay there in shock. He hadn't even thought his mother knew how to curse. A good five minutes must have passed before his dad finally spoke.

"Okay," he said, his tone short and begrudging. "If that's really what you think is best. Tell that doctor we're moving him as soon as we can get the paperwork sorted out. I'm getting a bottle of water. Would you like one?"

"Yes, please," she whispered. It sounded like she herself couldn't even believe she'd blown up at him.

Kevin quickly shut his eyes before Mr. Price could pull back the curtain. He feigned sleep as his father strode out of the room, then opened them up again once he was gone and examined his mother. She was staring down at her lap, wringing her hands.

"Mom?" he said.

She looked up, startled. "Kevin," she replied. "How long have you been awake, honey?"

Kevin simply sat up a little and stretched out his hand toward her. Without hesitation, she stood up and took it.

"I love you, Mom," he said.

"Oh, Kevin." She knelt down by his bedside with tears in her eyes. "I love you, too."

For the first time since the incident, he felt like maybe, just maybe, he might be able to get through this.


A/N: Thanks for reading, and let me know what you think!