AN- There are a whole bunch of references in this story to Ben's and some other people's works, so if you spot them, send me a message. Whoever catches the most I'll write a drabble for, or they can prompt my next story. Please don't spoil it for anyone else though.
Simen came out to get him a few minutes later.
"You can come back now Douglas. We're all done with x-rays."
Douglas trailed him back to Martin's room, where he lay, in the same position as before. No better, no worse, just the same.
He felt oddly reassured by that.
He settles back into the chair at Martin's side. The laptop Carolyn had been on earlier was still there, and Douglas pulled it over and opened it up. Her pages were still open. One about insurance, the other an email account. An email to the client they were supposed to be flying today.
It was good, very apologetic, but could be better. Douglas fixed it up a bit, making the situation clearer and using more extravagant words, and sent it.
Carolyn had known it would turn out that way. She had meant for Douglas to see the email. Otherwise she would have sent the email and closed the page before she's left with Arthur. Or perhaps she was getting duller with old age.
Either way, it was yet another way Douglas Richardson saved the day.
He should really be making a list.
(Fetching Martin, insisting they take Martin to hospital, calling Martin's mum to get his medical history, keeping Martin calm and staying with him, and now, fixing things up with the client. All in a day's work really. He should speak with Carolyn about a raise.)
Martin seemed to be sleeping peacefully still, and Simen confirmed he'd be given another sedative soon, just to make sure he slept through the night peacefully.
Douglas was glad.
He surfed the web for a bit until Simen brought the sedative in.
"He should sleep until morning. He'd probably have slept anyway, but this way we can ensure it's a restful sleep. Sleeping is essential for recovery."
Douglas nodded. He felt like he was doing an awful lot of that today, almost like a bobblehead.
Simen injected it into Martin's IV line and dropped the needle in the sharps container.
Douglas held back a yawn. It wasn't even ten pm and he was already exhausted.
"The chair folds out into a nice little bed if you're getting tired," Simen told him.
Douglas raised an eyebrow. "That sounds nice."
He stood up and watched when Simen demonstrated how to flip it out and put it back, so he could do it himself the next day.
Douglas stretched out on the little bed next to Martin. The railing had been put back up so Martin wouldn't fall out of bed in case he woke up and decided to roll over, having suddenly gained the energy to do so.
Simen returned with a blanket, which he handed to Douglas.
"Oh, thank you," he said, genuinely shocked.
Simen smiled. "I thought you could use a blanket."
Douglas unfolded the blanket and smoothed it out over himself, curling up on his side and weaving a hand through the bars to clasp Martin's hand.
He must have fallen asleep like that, lulled to sleep by the hissing of the ventilator and the steady rhythmic beep of Martin's heartbeat.