Chapter Twenty-One: Overture
I'm running around in a spastic the following morning, royally pissed at myself for being in this one-hundred percent preventable predicament. While everyone else is still snoozing, I sprint out to my car and speed off, my heart palpitating the entire way. How could I be so forgetful? I should've fought it and forced myself to stay awake until I remembered it... But noooo, I had to give in and drift off into dreamland!
Parking outside the hospital I get out, lock it, and dash inside, sweating bullets from the anxiety. I go through the usual routine but the moment I arrive at the floor, I bolt toward the desk and flip through the book to find my name and stamp next to it. My marathon continues and soon I'm in front of his room.
I freeze, my heart stops, and I lose the ability to breathe the moment I take in something I'd dreaded to encounter. It's dark, but I can still see in... The room is barren, devoid of all that should be present within its aged walls.
I'm not sure how long I stand there, vacantly staring at nothing, but eventually, I'm pulled back by a gentle tap on my right shoulder. My sense of self returns to a degree, along with my senses, and I find the strength to swivel my head toward them.
At my right I see nurse Anderson standing there, a soft smile on his face, and eyes gleaming just so that it appears he's been crying.
"Hey," I say, finally finding the ability to speak after a bit.
"Hey, he's in surgery right now. Come on, I'll get you a coffee," he says kindly.
I give him a small nod, and proceed to follow him back down and into the cafeteria sector of the building. As he guides me to a table, I take in the area and am quick to spot many tired faces. At the back, I sit silently among the mixture of staff, those specialists having been brought in for one reason or another, and some overnight visitors. It's scarce but I'm not surprised, most aren't up this early.
"Sorry, that I didn't come by last night," I utter, watching as the guy puts a mug of black coffee on the circular table in front of me.
"Don't be, you wouldn't have been able to see him," he tells me, taking the seat across from me while holding his cup.
"Because of surgery prep and stuff?"
He takes a good-sized sip of his coffee, and vigorously nods while swallowing it, "Pretty much,"
I take a sip of my beverage, "What's he in for?"
"Lung transplant,"
"Both of them?!" I say in shock, panicking some before reeling my emotions back in.
Anderson nods, "They looked like cheese once all the bone fragments and fluid were removed. Damaged to hell, so I made a few calls and got him prepped for this morning,"
"Where, will, he be, after this?" I ask, finding it hard to breathe.
"The ICU, but it'll be one of the higher-up floors so I'm afraid you won't be able to see him until given the go-ahead by whoever heads that area,"
I nod, feeling morose, lost, and scared. Mr. Anderson ensures me that everything will be all right, and before I know it, Kai will be breathing on his own and awake. We finish our drinks and then he urges me to go home, but not before giving me his unit's hotline number and saying that he'll call if anything changes while Kai is under his care.
Exiting the building, my eyes burn at the brightness, and the moment I slide into my car, I can't hold back the flood.
Unless you've been in one, this surreal feeling is difficult to explain, but I'll do my best. Regardless of whether you are a patient or someone visiting a patient, hospitals truly feel as though they are a world of their own. It's as if you have been transported to another dimension, and the moment you step back outside, the reality of the situation hits you... You weren't in some other place or time, you were just inside a building beside the road. What's happening is real. What's in front of you and the environment aren't fake. This is not any sort of dream or all made up in your head. And I won't even get started on the endless guilt you feel because you're having to leave. I feel like I'm abandoning him.
Pulling into the hobby shop's driveway, I sniffily deposit the used tissues into a grocery bag and move to throw it away, closing the door behind me. I go inside once done and after taking off my coat notice some boxes on the living room floor.
"What in the world?" I ask myself.
"We're upstairs," comes uncle's voice from said direction, and he sounds more hyper than usual.
Curious, I head there and to my surprise, though I think somewhere deep down I half-expected this, Agatha is building furniture in the guest room. Mainly a bed frame. Against the hallway wall stands a queen-sized mattress and its accompanying boxspring.
"Ya buildin' a box fort or something?" I ask both, despite only eyeing uncle.
"Using her presents. Miss. Do-It-Myselfer over there won't let me touch a thing though, not a screw. I'm only allowed to supervise,"
I laugh at his half-hearted, childish mocking, and say to the woman tightening a screw on a metal bedpost. "Thanks. The doctor advised against strenuous lifting,"
"I remember," she says with a smile in the middle of giving a laugh of her own, and double-checking her work before flipping the frame the right way onto the floor, but still keeping it a few inches away from the wall.
Once she has that done, I help with placing the boxspring and mattress on the frame. After, Agatha tells us that she's got it from here. Both shrugging at that, uncle and I leave to watch a movie in the living room. Though I suspect we'll be doing something involving tape, scissors, and that plentiful pile of cardboard. Me and my big mouth.
A week goes by, and a new year is upon us. I spend the bitterly cold day helping in the hobby shop. While stocking some Beyblade merchandise on a top shelf, my phone buzzes. This continues as I step down the ladder and doesn't cease even when I'm on the floor. Ok, whatever this is, can't be good. I pluck it out of my rear pocket and unlock the screen.
Checking my texts I see that uncle is not only ready to be picked up from therapy, but read one from Rachel that says Agatha is at the hospital.
"Why didn't she call me?" I say with a huff.
Stuffing my phone back into my pocket, I race to my car and drive off toward the general hospital. I speed through the roadways and am there in no less than ten minutes.
Sprinting down the hallways I'm spotted by a nurse in-between floors and questioned. I tell her what I'm doing there and she rudely takes me back down to the lobby, saying that I need to talk to the receptionist, not trot about as if I own the facility. I apologize and proceed to explain the situation. The lady behind the desk then politely asks the nurse vice-gripping my arm to head to the girls and ask if she knows me. She leaves and a minute later comes back and tells the lady that I'm Agatha's boyfriend. Despite my confusion, I nod when confirming it.
Boyfriend, why on earth would they say something like that?
I'm led through a maze of curtained off areas, and am told to hustle until we reach a lavender curtained bed. The lady slides the makeshift wall aside and leaves.
I'm met with a state that I'm more than familiar with. This time, however, she appears more devastated than upset. Rachel and I exchange woeful glances before she tearfully nods, confirming my fears. Agatha has had a miscarriage.
As I process this, Rachel tells Agatha that she's gonna go get us all some water. Really, I think she's wanting to give us some alone time, though I'm unsure why. Agatha doesn't give her an answer which is fine. Rachel seems to understand, which I like.
"I'm so sorry," I say after she's gone, placing my hand atop Agatha's on the bed.
My words only serve to make her sob more. She rolls onto her side and crumples up in misery, her back facing me.
It's against the rules, but I climb into her bed and hold her tight, my own tears falling in silence at the growing life cut short.
As much as I wanted her to be free and not face the possible ridicule for her choice, I never wished for this. I guess, in a roundabout sort of odd way, I've got what I wanted. That being said, no child should suffer what this baby has. I feel like a monster.
Laying there, her hot face buried in my shoulders now, I come to deeply regret everything I ever thought and said.
That evening, I'm able to bring Agatha home. We walk in to the smell of dinner. While I'm called into the kitchen, Agatha heads upstairs to her room. Upon hearing a soft click, I know she's locked her door.
Walking into the curry smelling room, I'm met with an angry uncle.
Stirring the pot, he says, "You forgot to lock up when you left,"
I apologize for failing to pick him up, silently assuming uncle Tyson did it, but I follow that up with the hospital trip. That makes uncle's anger at me leaving the shop open to thieves drop drastically and his jaw goes slack in shock. He asks how she's doing and I answer that she's shaken but that the doctor says she'll be fine if we give her love, support, personal space, and some time. He agrees, going back to the food.
Leaning on the counter by the fridge, I tell the rest of the tale. I found out on the way home that she and Rachel were out shopping for some clothes. While showing her a cute holiday-themed sweater that was on sale, Agatha said that she fell to the floor in what she could only describe as severe cramps bordering on contractions. Rachel was the one to notice the expanding pool of blood and that's when she told Agatha that she needed to go to the hospital. Agatha told her to text me so she did.
Doesn't explain why I was called her boyfriend though. (Yeah, I'm leaving that part out. I don't need to give uncle any more sticks to playfully poke me with.)
Spring has sprung, its beauty in full bloom, and by mid-March things are steadily evolving. Agatha and I are back in school, the rumor mill having died down to a dull rumble. Per my request we've got all, but one, class together. While I'm taking an hour of Physical Education she's talking to a therapist. I couldn't argue that one, nor would I. Even then the reformed staff wouldn't hear it. I understood and we were both happy with the lot we got. Can you tell I'm protective?
I've tried to ask her about the boyfriend thing from time to time but she just blushes and leaves my side immediately after, more often than not mumbling something I'm unable to make out. Rachel's no help, she was just as confused as I am about it. She thought at first it was so I would be allowed back there, but now she's second-guessing the theory.
The trial is nearing its end, with all involved having given their testimonies and event updates. Those on the Devil's side are trying to say that the girls, I, and even somehow Kai, coerced the janitor into this for money. Where do they get off? There is no defending this guy, end of story! We'll find out soon if we've won or lost the case. But, come on, we've got this in the bag.
Speaking of Kai, I'm still unable to see him. He needs to fully heal from the transplants and they want him breathing on his own before they allow anyone near him. I get it, but it still stinks.
Nurse Anderson has called the shop every few days or so to update me on what his colleague says. It's thrown uncle for a loop that a former teammate of his has been under his nose this whole time and is a medical professional to boot. Now Mr. Anderson has two numbers he can call. One is mine, and the shop for uncle. It wouldn't surprise me if I get home one day and find them on the couch chatting it up like it's 2005 again.
Uncle Max is now walking without a cane, completely unassisted in all aspects, and I nearly cried when I saw him doing it for the first time. He's surprised his doctor, and us, at how far he's come since November. He's doing fantastic but I can't help but worry when I'm away. I guess it's karma for making him worry so much for so long. Either way, I'm proud of him, and I know Kai will be too when he lays eyes on the miracle.
It's toward lunchtime and I'm starving. Agatha, Makoto, Lin, Rachel, and I are taking our seats at a long set of three connected tables stood beside a rather large window overlooking the senior parking lot. At this point the whole school knows about the miscarriage, thanks unfortunately to the news. This massive murder of crows is doing it's best not to eat at her with questions though. Most of the student body is showing signs of maturity, and I must admit, this is nice to see.
With the change of the year comes a set of mostly new classes. I may or may not get into them but I will say this; I'm taking this round more seriously than before. I've been given a second chance, and I'm going to do my best not to muck it up.
April has come and by the second week we're on Spring break. A week off, with homework, ew.
It's Saturday morning of the starting weekend, and while the house is still a-snooze, I find myself gathering up things for a much-needed cold shower.
I don't get it. Anytime I think of Agatha or am alone with her in any way, my loins ache and it suddenly hurts to wear pants. I get uncomfortable and become uncharacteristically flustered around her. What does my body know, that the rest of me doesn't?
With my fluffy towel still on my head, I walk downstairs to get something to drink. In the kitchen I find an envelope of opened mail next to my large coffee mug. Guess uncle's awake, must be in the store. Also, how did I miss the mail yesterday?
It's from the judge overseeing the case. I smile as I read it, my mouth stretching wider with every carefully typed word... We're no longer required to attend the trial from here on out, but can if we wish to do so. We've won, and going by the list of possible sentences, it doesn't matter what length he gets because that man will rot regardless. To put it bluntly, he won't be seeing the sun again, not as a free man anyway.
Feeling my towel fly off, I excitedly run up the stairs to grab my phone, but stop once I reach the threshold to my room. Frozen in place, my eyes take in Agatha stepping out of her room. She's in a fluffy, baby pink robe and matching slippers. Her wavy tresses appear wet and a towel is on her head. I guess she decided to get a shower too.
"Great minds think alike, I suppose. I got a shower too," I say, unmoving from my spot.
Her hair accentuates her natural beauty and ever-enhancing curves. The poofy edges of the robe pushes her breasts up enough that you can ogle them but it's not enough to be perverted.
She smiles at me and happily says, "I just saw the news. Did you hear? We won, all of us are free,"
I gulp down my nerves and somehow find the will to nod. Agatha rushes to me and gives me the hug I'd been fighting to give her. I hug her back, all of me feeling heavy as if I were made of lead.
Holding her in my arms, her mint and strawberry scent consuming my senses, it hits me in a wave of warmth... I've fallen in love with her.
This chapter dealt with some heavy stuff that I hope I handled well and as respectfully as possible. To those that have expirianced a misscarriage, you have my condolences and support.
As for the hospital stuff, this chapter, along with the last two, have a lot of personal stuff in them. Stuff my family and I went through when my dad was in and out of the hospital for five-ish years. Like with Resemblance, this fic is (unintentionally) helping me cope and come to terms with all that happened with my dad.
On a lighter note, Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays for the final time this year. Christmas is in a week and that means a lot prep work in regards to food and presents. I love you all so much and I'm sorry that this got personal for a moment. Lots of warm and well wishes, stay healthy and safe, and I'll see you all in the next update, coming soon in 2021! ^^
Also, HAPPY NEW YEAR! ^^
Feel free to leave a review. ^^