Broken Family Tree

10 - Nightmare

Four days.

Four days had passed since they brought Thomas to the hospital. He had gone into a coma by the time they had gotten there, and that had forced the doctors to put him on a ventilator. They warmed him up with insulating blankets, got IV fluids for dehydration, got blood bags for transfusions after identifying his blood type, other IV bags for nutrients, and other measures. They also brought out, after blood tests were made and the results reviewed, a dialysis machine to purify his blood and many heavy vitamin supplements to fix the severe imbalances in his body—especially where his organs were involved. He had to have surgery to replace most of them, starting with his kidneys which were practically nonexistent and reduced to the size of marbles due to the adrenaline poison—they had overloaded trying to process the toxin out of his body—and going all the way to his heart due to the poison's antidote overwhelming his heart and pumping its characteristic cold throughout his entire body, hence the low body temperature he had at the clinic.

The doctors asked Malia for any information to fill out the necessary forms, and she informed them of everything she knows about him and what he's gone through, though it's not a lot. When the doctors and nurses leave, she calls one of the doctors back and asks them quietly if they can do a DNA test for the two of them, saying they hadn't really confirmed if they were siblings, only going by what they both knew. The doctor said yes and that he'd be discreet. She thanked him and went back to the waiting area. She hadn't left the hospital since they brought Thomas, afraid to hear from the hospital that he had passed in the middle of the night over the phone. She imagined, as a kind of comfort to herself, that her presence was what was keeping him alive.

"Hey."

She jumped in her seat, startled. Looking up, she saw Derek standing in front of her, two coffee cups in his hands.

"What're you doing here? Aren't you a wanted man still?" Malia whispered.

"No one's said anything so far. Besides, you look like you could use some company." Derek replied, handing one of the cups to Malia. She took it, repositioning herself on the uncomfortable chair, and sighing before taking a sip of the drink. It didn't taste like anything. Derek sat next to her and did the same.

"I'm so afraid that we were too late and that he's gonna die anyways," Malia confessed.

"Don't say that, Malia," Derek said, turning to look at her, "He's gonna make it and he's gonna live a different life. You just need to give it time. Have faith—the doctors'll do whatever it takes to save him."

He took another sip from his coffee cup and readjusted himself on the seat. Malia copied him, still not tasting anything of whatever was in the coffee cup. Malia thought that he was right and that she was working herself up over nothing. Nothing was going to happen to Thomas, or at least he wasn't going to get worse. He was improving—the nurses said so—and it was only going to be uphill from there! ...It had to be.

"Malia Tate?" Was suddenly called out from just outside the waiting area inside the hospital. Malia shot up, but Derek merely straightened.

"Yes?" Malia said, walking over to a nurse that was standing with a clipboard, looking in her direction.

"He's awake—"

Before the nurse could say any more, Malia was already sprinting down the hallway to Thomas's room. Seeing his room number, she skidded to a stop and opened the door, and when she saw him, a wave of relief washed over her.

They had removed the ventilator and he was laying down, staring at the ceiling and then moving his gaze to look at her. The many tubes he had in his body reminded her of tentacles wrapped around its prey, holding it there while it devoured its meal. His light-blue hospital gown was glowing in the white light of the room, making him look like a celestial being.