"Craig's running scared, Joey. And, frankly, I can't believe you let it happen." Snake told him coolly, adrenaline still coursing through him at the thought of what the kid was going through.
The teacher wasn't the only one whose adrenaline was still pumping, though. "What did I let happen? What are you talking about?"
"Do you know why Craig didn't let you know he was sick? Huh?" Simpson demanded, the anger still pumping strong.
Joey looked back at him, expectantly. He found himself practically hissing at the man. "Why don't you tell me, Archie? Clearly, you know Craig much better than I do. Enlighten me."
"He doesn't want to be any more of a burden on you than he already is." The teacher told him steadily, meeting his friend's eyes as he carefully annunciated each word.
Joey flinched as the statement hit him. Looking back at the other man, his next question came out in a much less hostile tone. "He said that?"
"When I asked him why he didn't want to admit he was sick, he told me he didn't want to be any more of a burden on you. That letting him live with you is enough charity to expect from one guy." Simpson summed up the teen's beliefs quietly.
"That isn't. He isn't." Joey's voice trailed off as the guilt swarmed through him.
Archie wasn't totally done making his point, though. "He's 14, Joey. His parents are dead. He's in a new house, at a new school. He's got more than enough to worry about in his own life. He shouldn't feel like he has to make your life easier every time things get hectic at your job or Angie's being difficult. He's not the parent."
Joey responded slowly, rubbing at his face at he spoke. "Archie?"
"Yeah?" The teacher replied gently, relieved that his words had apparently sunk in.
Joey met his eye. "Where's my kid?"
Silently pushing back the divider curtains, Joey looked down at the bed expectantly. In retrospect, he wasn't sure what he had expected. But what he saw was definitely not it. Sleeping fitfully, Craig's breathing was raspy and his color bad. Not to mention the machines attached to the boy.
The salesman was immediately glad the boy was asleep. There was no way he would have been able to hide how startled he was at the sight before him. Wordlessly, he backed out of the area.
He could kick himself for not questioning Snake further on what was wrong with Craig. He had just taken it for granted that whatever was wrong couldn't be that serious. After all, he surely would have noticed something major. Clearly, he had been mistaken. There were tubes running through his teenager. He wanted some answers, and he wanted them now.
Stepping into the small room to wait for the boy's arrival, the man mentally prepared himself to greet his stepson. He was ready for this.
After finally hunting down Craig's physician, he was in the loop. He knew what was wrong, how the boy was being treated and when he should be released. Hopefully, that was more than the teen himself had managed to find out.
He needed to show the boy that he could get this under control. That he had the answers.
He's an adult. He's competent. He can take care of this. He can take care of Craig.
As the bed is slowly wheeled into the room, the salesman hops to his feet, silently praying that he is more successful at convincing Craig of his competence than he is at convincing himself.