I sat anxiously in the waiting room of the hospital, intentionally keeping my distance from my team while huddled up in a corner chair, not looking at anyone or anything. I didn't want them to see me like this. Tyson was the only one who had ever seen me emotional and although I hadn't had the energy to cry, everything I felt was clearly plastered onto my face.

It felt like we had been here for hours. Why had no one said anything to me about Wyatt yet? The only reasons I could think of involved worst case scenarios. They were going to come out here any minute and they were going to tell me he was dead; that I had failed to save him.

"How are you holding up?"

I turned my head to the side, Tyson now smiling sadly at me while offering a bottled water, which I took more out of politeness than thirst.

"Leave me alone." I mumbled.

"We're your friends, we aren't going anywhere." I didn't answer him, it wasn't worth the effort to argue. "Kenny called your dad, he should be here soon."

"It won't make any difference."

I didn't give a shit if they called my dad or not, there was no reason for him to be here, I wasn't the one hospitalized this time.

"Do you know if someone contacted Wyatt's family?"

"They asked me for information about him since he was unconscious, but that's past my area of knowledge… he had his school ID on him, I'm sure they have a way to figure it out."

"Do you wanna grab dinner with us?"

"I'm not hungry."

I turned my head away, making it clear that I didn't want to talk anymore. He seemed to understand, touching a hand to my shoulder for a moment before going back to where everyone else was. All of this had been my fault, I had pushed him away and by the time I even knew who to look out for, it was too late to warn him. They had gotten to him because I wasn't there.

Xxx

I didn't remember falling asleep in the waiting room, using a small row of chairs as a bed. My body was sore from the awkward position, causing me to wonder how long I had been out for. Getting up slowly, I tried stretching out as much as I could given the circumstances. There were still lights on in the waiting room, but they had been dimmed, and the lights in the hall were off.

"I was wondering when you would wake up."

I turned my head to the side, my father on a chair near me, head resting on his hands.

"Why did you let me sleep?" I asked.

"There isn't anything we can do right now, malysh, we don't have the legal right to be told anything."

"So what, no ones going to bother telling me if my best friend is even alive?"

"It's going to be okay, son..."

I ignored him, looking for a moment at Tyson who lay sleeping on a separate row of chairs. He was the one who had insisted that everyone else turn in for the night, that he would stay with me and keep them posted on what was happening.

"Why is it taking his parents so long to get here?"

"They're coming from the states, their flight is going to take at least twelve hours, probably more."

"They don't even care about him."

"I'm sure that's not true."

"They don't." I got quieter as I continued speaking, chest heavy with uncertainty. "He's talked about it before, his parents are embarrassed that he's gay." I paused, hoping it sunk in a bit with my father that I knew a part of him felt the same way. "It's weird… if they wanted a lower chance of having a gay kid, why would they pop out six of them? Wouldn't the chances be higher the more kids you have?"

My words didn't mean anything, really, but talking made it easier not to think and the easiest people for me to direct my anger at were his parents.

"Big words coming from a first born, don't you think?" Neither of us said anything in response, taking a moment to let silence drown out some of our lingering thoughts. "I know you think I resent you, Kai." My father eventually spoke again. "I don't think I could ask for a better son, though."

I couldn't help rolling my eyes. Give me a break, I was the absolute definition of a problem child. Riku was a good kid, he had a life going for him that he could someday flourish in; he had been given the life that I didn't deserve.

"You left me." I reminded him.

"Even if you didn't go regularly out of your way to remind me of that, I would still never forget it. You'll always carry the burden of being the one that I fucked up with. I don't even know how I would have made it to your sixth birthday without your mother."

"You don't even talk about her unless I ask and even then it's just the same three monologues I've heard all year. I'm not an idiot, I know you didn't like that she babied me, that maybe if you were both tougher on me I wouldn't be the way I am."

"What I thought then and what I think now are from completely different times in my life. I was only twenty two when we had you, I had no idea what I was doing. Even when we left the hospital after you were born I couldn't believe that they would just let us take you. We didn't even know how to install a car seat until the day we brought you home, the taxi driver had to help us. I didn't know how to change a diaper or how to bathe a newborn. Your mom used to call you my potato sack because of how often she had to remind me to keep a hand on the back of your head. She took to everything so naturally, though… I think the only thing I ever saw her struggle with was putting you on a bottle because she wasn't ready to lose the bond she had built nursing you yet."

"You're hitting territory of things I don't need to know."

He put a hand on my head, ruffling my hair slightly.

"I know that things seem intense now, and that you think you have your life all figured out. Everyone feels that way when they're your age, but I want you to know that you're not done growing yet. Everything that's happened this year will be nothing but a memory someday. You're going to get through this."

"How could you even say something like that?" I asked. "I don't even know if Wyatt is alive back there because no one will tell me anything. Do you really expect me to move past thinking that I watched him fall to his death? That I was running to his corpse?"

He seemed to take the hint that he wasn't saying anything that was helpful, no longer looking at me as he sighed to himself.

"Hana is moving back into the house." He said. "We've been talking more for the past few months..."

"What does that mean for me?"

Was he putting me back in custody of the state? Was that what he was trying to tell me? That he didn't want me anymore?

"She wants to get to know you better, really get to know you. She struggles because she doesn't understand what things were like before we moved here and admittedly, I haven't always been completely honest about all of it."

"Can I still attend a boarding school?" I asked quietly.

"I honestly didn't realize that was something you were interested in, I had figured you would want to try the public school system."

"I want to board again, maybe study abroad someday."

He smiled at me.

"I guess I just assumed you wouldn't be the boarding type. God knows that I wasn't."

"I don't think that my grades are good enough to get a scholarship anywhere..."

I hadn't thought much about what would happen in regards to my junior year. I would be sixteen at the beginning of the month, leaving me only a few more weeks left of summer, if I were to apply for any form of financial assistance I would have to get started sooner rather than later.

"A scholarship shouldn't be necessary." My father said, cracking just the slightest hint of a smile. I wasn't sure what he was getting at but it didn't exactly seem appropriate for the situation. I still hadn't been able to get any news about Wyatt's condition. "I'll be inheriting a percentage of my fathers business, which is going to make quite a difference for our family financially. I hadn't really planned on telling you yet, but you seem like you could use some good news right about now. I mean, don't suddenly plan on going to Switzerland or anything like that, but I think we can figure something out." He took a moment to let the things he said sink in for me, the silence of the near empty emergency room giving off an almost eerie feeling. "Hana is pregnant, Kai." He eventually stated.

"You're joking, right?"

"I don't mean to shock you with this information, it was honestly a bit shocking for me too-"

"You see the irony in regards to you being concerned about about my promiscuity, right?"

"Don't get sassy with me." He smirked.

"I'm just saying it's an interesting situation to be in after all the times you lectured me about using protection."

A small laugh escaped him.

"What are you going to do, ground me?" He elbowed me slightly before wrapping an arm around my shoulders. "I want you to know that even though you think I replaced you when Riku was born, that nothing will ever stop you from being my first born. I know I've already said it, but without you are the one who truly made me a father, and I'm eternally grateful for that."

I brought my gaze downward, sighing slightly before looking back up at Tyson stirring on his makeshift chair bed.

"Is it morning?" He asked, clearly only half awake.

"Technically speaking." My dad answered, "It's 4am."

"You don't have to stay here with me." I told him, "You can go home if you want to."

"You shouldn't be here by yourself." He mumbled, yawning heavily and pulling himself up onto the chair. "No offense to your dad or anything, but you could really use a friend right now."

"None taken." My dad smirked.

Silently we sat, Tyson drifting in and out of sleep a few times but clearly trying his best to stay awake. I didn't want to talk anymore… I knew talking was supposed to keep my mind off of Wyatt, but that wasn't what I wanted. Not thinking about him made me feel like I wasn't doing enough. If I got any sort of news, I didn't want to be thinking about what I wanted for breakfast while getting it.

If there was any chance he might not make it,

I didn't want my mind to be on porridge.

Xxx

I awoke startled, having to look at my surroundings for a moment to remember where I was. I had been used to the brief period of silence that night brought, only seeing doctors or patients in the room every few hours. Now there was noise everywhere, mostly consisting of yelling that came from the front desk.

"This is completely ridiculous!" A Caucasian woman yelled in English at the worker. "I have every right to be back there, just let me see my damn kid!"

"A doctor will be out to speak to you any moment. Your son hasn't been cleared for visitors yet."

She was tall, blonde hair cut short and professionally and she dressed oddly nicely for how early in the day it still was, sporting a full face of make up and clothing that you would typically see in an office setting. The man next to her focused more on his phone than their conversation, awkwardly glancing up once or twice before deciding that she was more than capable of handling it.

It was the third person who I truly took notice to. Her brown hair fell gently passed her shoulders, a navy blue beret perched on her head, the exact same shade as the cardigan she wore. Her eyes were calm, likely used to situations that involved yelling and she looked to be a few years older than me. Had I not known better, I would have thought she was Wyatt in a skirt and wig.

"Cecile?" I heard myself say, not sure where my voice came from. "I mean, are you Cecile Smithwright?"

The adults took no notice of me, but she did, looking my direction with a sorrowful frown on her face. I hadn't noticed until she looked at me how hard she was trying to hold it together, taking a moment to breath deeply as she spoke. I also wasn't sure how well she could understand my English abilities, which were fine in regards to listening to music and watching movies, but not commonly used in day to day life.

"You're Kai, right?" She asked.

He had mentioned before that he told his sister about us, although I wasn't sure if after everything that happened he hadn't changed his tone in regards to his opinion of me. I didn't even really answer her, instead shoving my hands in my pockets and looking at the ground in front of me in shame. A pose that I remained in until she got close to me, wrapping her arms around my neck and pulling me into her.

"This is all my fault." I mumbled.

I couldn't make out what her mother was saying, the bickering now becoming too fast paced and incoherent. I couldn't blame her though, I was also becoming increasingly desperate to know how Wyatt was. The woman at the front desk had said something to her about needing to be cleared for visitors, so that had to mean he was alive, right? Would they have told his family right away if he wasn't? Would they have waited until they could pull them aside in order to tell them?

"Tell me what happened." Cecile stated, letting go of me and stepping back. My father and Tyson were sitting and watching us and I honestly didn't know if they had any understanding of the conversation. I was fairly sure my dad spoke English or at least understood it, Tyson I was oblivious to.

"It wasn't a legal battle, there was nothing put in place to guarantee anyone's safety. Something… something went wrong. I don't know what happened, Wyatt wasn't acting like himself."

"Do you believe he may have been having an episode?"

"Episode?"

"A manic episode."

I looked at her in clear confusion, unable to pinpoint what it was that she was talking about.

"I'm not sure." Was all I could think to say.

"How long has he been acting unusual? Has he been taking his meds?"

I was stuck at a point of not knowing what I was supposed to say, unable to answer honestly when I didn't understand the question but also afraid of how terrible of a boyfriend she would see me as if I admitted to having no idea what she meant. Instead I shrugged shyly, avoiding her eyes and hoping she would mistake my uncertainty for a language barrier.

Wyatt had mentioned being prescribed Adderall at one point, but nothing outside of that. I wasn't even sure he used it the way he was supposed to, I think he mostly just snorted it before finals.

"Cecile!"

She jumped at the sound of her name, mother now coming at her as though she were seconds from missing a train. "Let's go, we don't have time for whatever it is you're doing, I've had to cancel nearly a weeks worth of showings, I can't keep dealing with this. We're getting your brother and going home."

Loudly, a man cleared his throat within the room, a doctor now trying to get everyone's attention before Wyatt's parent's dragged him out of here with wires and tubes still attached.

"You're Mr. and Mrs. Smithwright, correct?" He asked, looking down at the chart he held.

"Yes, we're here for our son. Smithwright, Wyatt Benjamin."

She seemed to be trying to turn the charm on, unable to fully hide her annoyance and anxiety. I didn't really blame her, none of us fully knew what was going on and no matter what Wyatt had told me, it did seem that his parents cared that he was in the hospital.

"Could I take you somewhere in order to sit down and talk?"

Was that a bad sign? Did a doctor suggesting you go somewhere else to talk indicate that it wasn't good news?

"We aren't planning on sticking around to chat, we're just here to get our son home."

"I'm afraid that won't be possible at this exact moment. Your son has suffered severe head trauma, there's a lot of swelling happening in the brain right now and it's effecting his reticular activating system, leaving him in a comatose state."

"How long will it take for him to wake up?"

"Unfortunately, we have no way to estimate that."

Wyatt's mother began mumbling was I was fairly certain were curse words to herself, rubbing at her temples. His father has still not even bothered to end his phone call, likely not even realizing yet what the doctor had told them. Honestly, it was only Cecile who appeared concerned, face pale in color and breaths deepening as she struggled to keep her composure. If she cracked, who knew what sort of rampage their parents would begin going on.

"Sir," She began, voice tense and quiet. "Is my brother going to be okay?"

Although she hadn't specifically asked if Wyatt was going to die, her question was still made rather clearly. It was the same question that I needed to know the answer to and one that their parents didn't even seem to think was up for debate.

"Cecile, don't be dramatic." Their mother said, shaking her head in what appeared to be annoyance.

"That currently remains to be seen." The doctor continued, ignoring her. "I will say that his injury wasn't as severe as it could have been. Had your brother fallen directly onto his skull, I'm not sure what the chances of him making it to the hospital alive would have been, he got very lucky. I also want to make it clear that based on his age and where the damage is, he has a good chance at recovering, even if his cognitive and physical abilities may have lasting effects."

"Wyatt is bipolar," Cecile continued, "Is it possible that the trauma will negatively effect that?"

I wrinkled my face in uncertainty, debating if I had heard her correctly or if the language barrier was becoming an issue. Had she said that Wyatt was bipolar? He had never said anything to me about that and as far as I knew, hadn't mentioned it to anyone else either. Was that why she had asked me questions regarding if he had taken his medications throughout the time he had been here?

The doctor wasn't given any time to answer before their mother interrupted once more.

"Can you just take me to see my son, please?" She said with a roll of the eyes. "If we need to stay here longer I'll have a lot of calls I'll need to make and some emails that will need to be sent." She looked to her husband who had finally finished his phone call, hanging up and raising an eyebrow at her. "I swear he sabotages us sometimes." She said to him. "Did he not think when he was fucking around what us having to come care for him would do to our income? Who even knows what the cost of all of this will add up to once we get his medical bills, we were supposed to go on that cruise before summer ended."

"Japan has universal healthcare, mother." Cecile intervened.

"Ridiculous, if you asked me. I'd rather pay for my own medical needs than have my taxes pay for everyone else."

She rolled her eyes, shaking her head briefly while walking toward me.

"Maybe you should come with us." She told me. "If Wyatt can hear anything happening in the room around him, he might find comfort in you being there."

I nodded, approaching the family awkwardly as his mother and father stared at me like a french mime had suddenly begun performing.

"Who are you?" His mom asked. "Do you speak English?"

"Um, yes..." I said awkwardly, wishing I could make myself invisible.

It was his father who everything seemed to suddenly click for.

"You're that boy on the magazine cover!" He said a bit too loudly. "No, absolutely not." He looked at Cecile, "Are you trying to make all of this look even worse?" He said angrily. "This whole phase Wyatt is in has done enough to tarnish our families reputation." Stepping toward me a bit too aggressively for my comfort, he made an attempt to get in my face before my dad took note of what was happening, he and Tyson quickly coming to intervene.

"Don't shout at my kid." He said, keeping himself oddly calm.

"You should be ashamed of yourself. Your son was the start of all this drama, I don't need Wyatt continuing these rebellious behaviors because of your fucking faggot spawn!"

"Dad!" Cecile yelled, even their mother had taken a slight back.

"For goodness sake, Ben, we're in public."

"I work hard to make my boys into men, if you're fine with some sick little girl boy because no one ever bothered to give your kid beating when he stepped out of line, don't make it my families problem."

This time it was my father I was watching the anger build up in, clearly not appreciating having this pissed off homophobic man in his face.

"Don't you dare stand there and act like you know what my son has been through." He said. "You know nothing of either of our experiences and will not dictate his trauma."

"If he wants a mans dick shoved up his ass, that's his own problem. Your boy or girl or whatever the fuck he thinks he is will leave my son out of it. We have the right as parents to say who can and cannot be in that room with our child and I suggest you leave before we have you kicked out."

It was at that point where the hospital security found their way to us, stepping in the middle of the less than quiet argument until the doctor agreed to take Wyatt's parents back to the room he was being kept in and suggesting that my father and Tyson and I leave for our own well being, explaining that there was nothing they could do for me if Wyatt's parents said they didn't want me allowed in his room.

"I'm not leaving." I said, "Not until I know if Wyatt is going to be okay or not."

Tyson bumped me in the side with his elbow, using only his eyes and a slight turn of the head to signal me to look over at Cecile, who was wiping a tear out of her eye. She was glancing in our direction, only looking away in order to focus on the small bit of paper she snagged from the front desk, working quickly and carefully to write something without her parents noticing.

When she saw me watching her she nodded, folding in in half twice and dropping it on the floor, using her foot to move it just inches in my direction.

"Cecile," Her mother said, setting a manicured hand on her shoulder. "Lets go, they're finally doing their jobs and taking us in the back it seems."

I stayed silent as they walked away, not daring to move until they had disappeared behind the swinging doors that separated the waiting room from the emergency department and then quickly grabbing what she had dropped.

It only contained two words,

But that was all I needed.

Wait outside.