Dave's POV
He looked almost peaceful. I knew that I didn't. John was sleeping and stable, but I was too scared to sleep. I had to drag him into the ER because he passed out before we got to the door. Then I had to wait for hours while they tried to figure out what was happening to him. They cauterized his nose and checked out his stomach. They gave him several units of blood. They took a couple vials of blood for testing and put him in a bed. I had been sitting here next to him, and hand over his, rubbing slow circles into it. I said stuff to him occasionally, but he wasn't awake to hear any of it.
It had to have been my fault somehow. I felt so guilty. I shouldn't have made him eat. I should have kept a closer eye on him. I canceled all of my DJ-ing gigs, and called my bro to have more stuff shipped to John's. I was definitely staying more than two weeks. He needed to get over this first, and if I left him alone, he would most certainly die.
The slight movement of fingers brought me back to reality. John was stirring. He hadn't opened his eyes, but his face was screwing up, and he was making grunting noises. He must be in some pain. "Dave." He barely said it. Like, he was still dreaming and unconsciously called out for me. I poked his face.
"John. John, wake up, Man. You gotta tell me how you're feeling. Can't have you kickin' the bucket yet." He barely opened his eyes. Just enough to tell that it was too bright for him.
"Stomach. Hurts." He grunted some more and kept making different expressions.
"I bet it does. It had it rough last night. I don't think they can give you anything for it yet." He was looking at me and the things in the room.
"Oh." He had forgotten. "What happened?"
"I'm not sure yet, Bro. They should be getting your blood-work back in an hour or two. They gave you like two units of the stuff. They think it has something to do with you not eating." He stared at the floor with an pained look. "Other than your stomach hurting, do you feel ok?"
"My whole body hurts, but my stomach hurts the worst. My nose burns too."
"Yeah. They cauterized it."
"Hmm?"
"Burned it. It wouldn't quit gushing your precious life nectar." That got a laugh and a slight smile out of him.
"I think you should stick to sarcasm and irony and leave the jokes to me, haha." His voice cracked here and there, but at least he could speak.
We conversed more, and my heart was eased. He seemed to be doing just fine. A doctor came in eventually and announced that he had Thrombocytopenia, a low platelet count, and they would be giving him a unit to help his body out. They also told us that the bleeding in his stomach was caused by some ulcers that, when bleeding, didn't clot thanks to his low platelet count. His nose was the same thing.
They told John not to worry TOO much about it, but he needed to eat more. He may get more nosebleeds, bruises (which currently covered his face, legs, and arms, thanks to a hug from the asphalt and the stabbing of needles), and really just more bleeding in general. They decided to keep him a few more days for observation. Apparently this sudden hemorrhaging could happen anywhere in his body, so they wanted to watch him some to avoid any other complications.
After his platelet transplant was through, and another giant bruise was added to his hand, he got several scans done and a few more tests to make sure his organs were functioning properly. He had a little spot of blood in his head, probably from that big snuggle with the parking lot, but they weren't overly concerned about it. He could clot better, and therefore his body would most likely fix it on its own. His heart was a little strained, but it was still doing its job. All of his other organs looked fine for now.
They did confirm that he was anorexic. I knew he was, but hearing it from a doctor made it more real. They told him if he didn't start eating more he would die, and that all of his current problems were based around it. He was starting to grow lanugo hair. The doctor said it was pretty much his body using a last resort to keep warm. He would be covered in white, fluffy hair in a few days, mainly his back, chest, arms, and face.
After the doctor left, I pulled off my shades. "John."
"Yeah?"
"This needs to stop." He look he gave me could only be described as an angry kindergartener.
"Do you understand that none of this was intentional?!" He was getting pretty mad. That didn't take much.
"What I do understand is that you aren't eating because you blame yourself for everyone dying. It's self punishment, and you did nothing wrong, so it needs to stop."
"You act like I'm trying to be this way! It is my fault! I was the one that begged Jake to visit! If I hadn't bothered him so much none of this would have happened!" His voice kept cracking more and more.
"You couldn't have prevented it, John! GET OFF YOUR HIGH-HORSE!"
"WHAT HIGH-HORSE!"
"YOUR DAMN VICTIM HIGH-HORSE! You aren't the only one that lost people that day…" I rubbed my face. "I planned on marrying Jade… When I turned 18 I was going to come up here and demand that your father give her to me... I loved her so much… And Jake…"
"What about Jake? You couldn't have known him." I peeked at John through my fingers. His eyebrows were furrowed, but he had calmed down a tad bit.
"I did know him. Bro was his best bud. Jake used to come to Houston all the time just to hang with him. They might have even had a thing at one point. For weeks after the accident, Bro and I would fight on the roof almost nonstop. I actually beat him a lot up there. Because I was so angry, I forced my way through any defenses. Because he was so upset, he didn't try too hard to block anything. I almost knocked him clear off the roof once. Would have been a Bro-cake on the sidewalk for sure."
"I didn't know…"
"I know." He leaned back into his pillows and sighed loudly. "John, this has to stop."
"…I know."
