"Should I get the nurse?" Clay sat forward.
Trent slowly shook his head. "I'm sure it was a spasm." He settled back into the chair.
"You don't think he's getting better." Clay slumped slightly.
"I want to. I want to believe it will all be okay, but... but it's a lot of physical trauma. A lot of pain. Some things people don't come back from." Trent tried to keep his voice steady.
"He'll fight." Clay spoke so softly Trent almost didn't hear him.
"For what?" Trent watched the monitors.
"What do you mean?" Clay tried to restrain his anger and understand.
"I mean he was sitting alone in the middle of the night when everything went to shit. He was completely alone and we weren't even the ones who found him. We didn't even know where to look. He was sitting alone waiting for someone to notice his whole world was crumbling." His voice cracked slightly.
NNNNNNNNNNNNNNN
He immediately missed the man once he was gone. It was the type of
loss that spoke of a bond he didn't understand. A pain in his chest and a longing he hadn't expected. He wondered who the man had been to him and why he couldn't stay.
He walked until he felt he could not take another step. The tracks ahead of him seemed to travel on forever. An endless path he was uncertain he had the strength to follow.
He bent forward with his hands wrapped around himself; tears fell from his eyes. Slowly he went down to his knees and wept. He cried for the path to be shorter. For the solitude to subside.
His hands covered his face and he yelled out to the nothingness that engulfed him. The salt from his tears burned his chapped cracked lips. He. bit at them drawing the metallic taste of blood into his mouth.
A yelp from too close caused him to jump and look around. He was greeted with the excitement of two large dogs. One was almost entirely black with a gray muzzle that told of old age. The second had a pupplylike quality to him and his tans stood out in the darkness. He blinked thinking they would somehow disappear. But when he opened his eyes they looked at him with anticipation behind their brown eyes.
"Hi." He smiled involuntarily as he spoke. The lighter of the two dogs whimpered and crawled on his belly in what could only be called a full body wiggle onto his lap. The older dog turned to look at the boot prints in the sand before turning back with a whine. "Come here, boy."
Slowly the black dog walked to him and licked the tears drying on his face while the young dog flipped and turned between his legs. "Such good boys!" The older dog's tail finally wagged.
"You plan to sit there with your ass in the sand playing with dogs or are you going to do what is needed?" The man startled him. He spoke as if he knew him. As if they had spoken a hundred times before. "It's time to finish this. Or you can just stay here with them, up to you."
Brock felt like this man knew about giving up a fight but he had no idea why. "And if I just stay here?"
"YODO." The man smiled at him.
"What does that mean?"
"I'll tell you later. If that's your choice."
NNNNNNNNNNNNNNN
They sat in silence as Clay thought of Brock alone and broken with no hope that his brothers were on their way, because they weren't. He hoped that despair wouldn't steal his fight. He stretched his sore leg in front of him.
"We'll head straight home when they get back and you can have some meds." Trent watched him closely.
"Isn't that bad." He lied.
"Uh huh. You'll have meds when we get home." He smiled knowingly.
"You call it home even when talking to me. You ever realize that?" Clay laughed.
"Well I think you've spent more nights at my place than yours in the last six months." Trent shrugged.
"That might be true. Does that mean I have to share my room with the new baby?" Clay smirked at him.
"That would make my life easier." Trent sighed. "I haven't really said anything but I'm terrified of this."
"Why?" Clay rubbed his leg and sat forward.
"Well I have no idea how to be a parent. Also it's the same reason I don't have a dog." Trent looked at him seriously.
Clay laughed too loudly for the setting. "A dog?"
Trent smiled lightly. "Yes a dog. When your best friend can do what he does with a dog, you don't get a dog. It will end up chewing your house and shitting in your shoes. You know Jam and RJ. My kid will probably be a monster."
NNNNNNNNNNNNNNN
"I'm not sure I can keep going." He was walking slowly and stumbling frequently.
The man slowed his pace and turned back. "It's your choice to keep going." The older dog whined from further ahead and the young one sat beside him. "We can stop anytime."
"Why do I feel like you are trying to get me to stay here?" Brock spoke to the man and the dog beside him.
"Listen, brother, no one is trying to get you to do anything. We are here so you aren't alone in this choice but it is your choice."
"Is it?" Brock wanted to stop but felt propelled forward at the same time.
"Of course it is. Just ring the bell and it's over. You can rest and eat. Everything will be okay. But if you ring it then you are done. There is no going back. YODO." As the man spoke Brock saw a brass bell standing out against the vastness in the distance.
"And if you want to change the world, never ring the bell." Brock whispered then coughed. "I feel like I have something in my throat."
"You do." He turned back to Brock. "If you aren't ringing the bell then let's go."
Brock stepped forward and the old dog resumed the lead. "What does YODO mean?"
"It doesn't matter. Not yet at least." He watched as the dogs flanked Brock.
NNNNNNNNNNNNNNN
Trent rolled a spare blanket and put it between his lower back and the chair. "How long have they been gone?"
Clay glanced at his watch. "Almost two hours."
Trent nodded. "They'll be back soon."
"Yeah they will be." Clay bent his knee and straightened his leg. "You okay?"
"Yeah. You?" Trent leaned further into the blanket roll.
"Feel like we should stay. Not sure why." Clay leaned forward and carefully took Brock's hand.
"I feel the same way but Jace isn't leaving and neither is Mandy." Trent looked at Brock's free hand before taking it in his own.
"And they only allow two in the room." Clay unconsciously drew circles with his thumb over the back of Brock's limp hand. "Also these chairs suck."
NNNNNNNNNNNNNNN
"My hands are warm. The other guy... He said that meant someone was holding my hand." He stopped to look at the redheaded man.
"It does. So you got someone on both sides of the bed." The man smiled at him broadly and tilted his head slightly.
"Who are they?" Brock's eyes filled with the tears of not knowing.
"I can't say for sure but if I had to guess I'd say at least one hand is held by your kid brother." The man took another step down the boot beaten path.
"I have a brother?" Brock stood still.
"You have many brothers. All of them are waiting for you. They are older and I'd say wiser, younger and maybe just a little naive. You have brothers who would lay down their lives and they don't even know your name."
"Neither do I." Brock followed.
"You will. Just have to keep moving."
"Did you stop moving?" Brock put one foot in front of the other.
"Sometimes there is no path to follow. And no matter how many brothers you have or how hard they try there is still no path." The man kicked at the dirt below his feet.
"Were you scared?" Brock matched his pace.
"No. I was ready. But I did feel badly that it hurt a brother, that he still carries the weight of it."
"Is he my brother too? If I stay here?" Brock concentrated on the tracks below his bare feet.
"It will hurt him forever. The Kid has a heart as big as the sky. I became just another person who walked away from him... but you know what he did?" He turned to Brock.
"What?"
"He gave me his heart." He smiled at Brock. "Brother, this is where you go on alone." He nodded ahead. "Well I guess not entirely." He watched the old dog continue on the path.
"Thank you for walking with me." Brock took a step closer and placed a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry there was no path for you to follow."
NNNNNNNNNNNNNNN
Clay memorized every bit of the hand he was holding. The small scars across the knuckles. The crack in the thumb nail. The groove of tendons under the skin. He held tightly and absorbed as much warmth as he could allow himself to. The vibration of his phone pulled him back to now as he looked at the device. "They're on the way back."
Trent pulled the rolled blanket from behind himself and placed it at the foot of the bed partially covering Brock's feet. "Yeah."
"Yeah. You think Sonny made dinner? Should we pick up something?" Clay's stomach growled.
"I'll text Rena." Trent let go of Brock's hand to use his phone.
"Can we come back tomorrow?" Clay closed his eyes.
"Yeah." Trent didn't mention the tear on his brother's face. "He's stable right now."
"I didn't see him before." His voice cracked.
"I know you didn't. Hey Kid, look at me." Trent waited for his eyes. "I wish I could tell you everything was going to be okay. I wish I could."
"I wish you could too."
Trent looked to his phone. "Rena is cooking... even if it's awful we have to eat it or she will cry."
"We'll eat it then." Clay nodded.
NNNNNNNNNNNNNNN
He looked at his feet to make sure they were not bleeding. They felt like they might be. Each step hurt more than the last. The dog waited for him up ahead.
He kept walking as the voices of the men who had showed him the path and walked with him echoed in his mind. And he heard voices he did not recognize in the far off. He wondered why they were so determined to help him find his way. Wondered who was waiting at the end of the path. Wondered who the unknown voices belonged to and wished he could remember.
He felt his pace slowing and his legs weakening but he kept going. Take a step, take a breath, and repeat. If stopping meant failing then he would keep going. Until he could go no further. He closed his eyes, picked up his foot then the other all while questioning when he would find no further.
"You can rest without stopping." Her voice was quiet beside him.
"I don't want to stay here." He can feel the tears in his voice now.
"Oh Sweetheart, you don't have to stay here." She tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear while tilting her head.
"I don't know why but I have to keep going. There are people waiting, I don't know how I know that but I do." He put his hand on his head.
"Are you hurting more?" She stepped closer.
"Yeah. And the voices are louder." He flinched at the noise.
"Let's sit and rest." She touched his arm while he nodded.
"You won't tell me who you are if I ask will you?" Brock sat beside her.
"No, but I will tell you are safe and loved." She wrapped her arms around his shoulders. His head rested against her chest the way a mother cradles a scared child.
"I feel safe with you." He tried not to stutter the words.
"You are." She ran her hand through his dark curls. "But you can't stay here."
"I'm not whole here." He looked up at her.
"No you aren't. It took me a very long time to know that none of you are without each other." There was a sadness in her voice he didn't want to understand.
"I've been held like this before. Was that you?" He had tears freely streaming down his face. "Because if it was I want to ring the bell."
She laughed softly. "No Sweetie, that was someone else and she is waiting for you to wake up."
"Am I asleep?"
"You are." She wiped his tears.
"I should wake up then." Brock moved to stand. "How do I do that?"
"That isn't for me to say." She stood. "You will know when it is time."
"I guess this is goodbye?" Brock felt a pain in his ribs.
"It is." She stepped closer. "I'm going to hug you one last time. It's the hug I never gave them."
Brock nodded as she wrapped her arms around him. His eyes drifted closed and his body warmed. His hands clutched the softness of her. He didn't let go, but she was gone.
NNNNNNNNNNNNNNN
Trent looked up as Mandy and Jason walked back into room. "He's the same."
"I figured. You would have texted." Jason stood in the doorway.
"Yeah." Trent stood and stepped closer to Brock taking his had once again looking down at his brother. "We'll be back tomorrow, Broccoli." He spoke softly.
Clay was still sitting and holding Brock's hand in both of his while leaning forward. "Trent?" Clay looked up with big blue eyes. "I swear he just squeezed my hand when you called him Broccoli."
"Mine too. Jace, get someone." Trent back to Brock. "You in there buddy?"
The nurse did a quick assessment before turning to the four impatient visitors. "I'm going to get Dr. Sanders." She stepped from the room.
"You think he's waking up?" Jason looked to Trent.
"Maybe. It could be seizure activity though. Certain types can cause involuntarily fisting." Trent downplayed his hope but didn't release Brock's hand.
Dr. Sanders entered the room while looking at a digital chart. He glanced at the monitors before moving to Brock's bedside where Clay had been standing. He lifted each of Brock's eyelids and flashed his penlight into them. "He very well could be close to consciousness. Time will tell." He spoke to all of them. Then he pinched Brock's finger.
NNNNNNNNNNNNNNN
Brock felt a pit of emptiness at the loss of her. Like a safety net had been pulled out from under him as he tumbled to the earth. He looked toward the path of boots and took a step.
It felt like an eternity had passed in this place. He continued walking. Maybe time wasn't real at all here. He wandered through the desert hoping to find a way to anywhere but this place.
The stillness of it all was suddenly interrupted with a gust of wind. He stumbled from the shock of it. Landing with a groan he let his cheek rest in the dirt and the wind blew. His eyes watched as the blowing started to erase his path. Quickly he got to his aching feet and ran chasing the disappearing tracks. Running to the promise of a home he didn't remember, to love he felt but couldn't recall. Running until he ran to a wall so tall the top reached the sky. And his knees hit the ground once again. His screams echoed back into the nothingness he had tried desperately to escape.