Hospital Haven

Chapter 10

We spend the rest of the afternoon mesmerized in Marco's world. Under his bed is a stash of drawings; some from years and years ago, others from a week, the good and the bad days. Everything from simple afternoon's watching the sunset to nights spent holding each other as we cry in pain, each one filled with beautiful passion and pure emotion. I can't get enough of gazing at them.

"Where did you learn to draw like this?" I ask in awe.

"I always had a knack for drawing, but when we moved, I had to be put in a special class for two years to learn Greek. I picked it up oddly quickly, so when everyone else would be learning the same thing over and over, I would be doodling in the textbooks or drawing full pictures on the back to tests. My teacher hated me.

"Finally I got to leave that class, and I took art. It was the greatest class ever. I got to be entered in art shows and contests." He sighs as he glances over to a drawing of his family from a year or two ago. "But it's all in the past now." I can see heartache pushing through his eyes.

I push the drawing back into the busted up folder and pull out a new one. It's of Nicoli and me dreaming. We're lying on the ground, oxygen tanks by our sides. Nicoli is snuggled under my arm, a breeze washing over us. In our dream, we're running around on the beach, a sunset casting its gold on us. Marco is sitting on the balcony of a tiny house nearby, watching us. We're free like birds in this dream, as we're running around in the dying waves of low tide. I could stare at it for hours.

"I finished that one a few months ago, I think." He smirks. I can tell he's proud of it. "Took me ages, but it was worth it."

"When we get out of here and buy our beach house, this will be hanging up in the living room for everyone to see. All our best and favorite drawings will be all over the house." I remark.

We spend the whole day engulfed in the papers. Marco works on one he started a week ago; him and Nicoli on a bench outside, laughing and playing around. I take my sweet time with old sketches and silly doodles. I love each and every one of them.

We lose track of time quickly. After what feels like no time at all dinner carts are bursting through the doors. We drop our papers and head to the table. Slices of beef and a roll on plates are put in front of us. We scarf them down as quickly as wolves. Meals never last very long here. And the idea of leaving makes us gobble down any food we can get our hands on.

When we finish up, we clean the papers off Marco's bed and tuck them neatly under. He climbs into his and I join him on the edge of it.

"Tonight's the last night," He whispers.

Joy wells up inside me. "If only the sun would come up faster," I wish.

"It'll go by faster if we go to sleep," he remarks as he pushes me off the bed. I laugh and climb into mine.

"Let's pray nothing goes wrong tonight," I yawn as I pull up the covers. I turn over and stare at Nicoli's bed. The sheets are folded up and his things are under the bed neatly. It looks as if it's never been touched. Only thirteen hours until he comes back, give or take an hour.

I fall asleep to the whirr and buzz of monitors downstairs. I know, not the most relaxing sound you can think of. But when you've spent three years and counting here, you just get used to it.

~~~

By the time I wake up, the sun has burst with it's light. Most of the others are up too-it's just Dalton now who's still asleep. I turn to Marco's bed; the blankets have been thrown off so violently most are on the floor. I climb out of my bed and find him near the door, pacing like a maniac. His cane is swinging around; no wonder he's swaying and stumbling like an old man. I'm worried he'll hit someone if he's not careful. I make my way over to him, cautiously, mind you.

"Marco, why don't you take a seat?" I ask calmly.

"They said he'll be back in the morning, he should be here any second." His voice is angry, but his hands are shivering.

I reach out for the cane the best I can. "How about you at least stop swinging the cane around. You'll send someone to R4 with it."

He stops in his tracks and lets the cane swing until it's bottom end hits the ground hard. "Sorry, kinda forgot I was doing it." He regains his balance and begins pacing again, only this time he's like a rich, British guy.

I take a seat on one of the meal stools, and watch Marco. I haven't seen him like this in a long while. His face has about twelve different emotions, but none are good. His eyes look on the verge of tears, but I know for a fact he's too stiff and haughty to let any show. I've known Nicoli about two years longer than Marco, and we've grown very close in that time. Almost like a brother neither of us had. Someone we needed, but didn't know until we met the other.

But Marco and Nicoli, what they've built is something different entirely. No matter how aloof Marco becomes, Nicoli will always put a kind smile on his face. They keep each other balanced, in a way I could never suffice. If Nicoli and I are brothers in a perfect suburban town, Marco would be the older, tough boy from next door that Nicoli adores and I hang out with. It's how it's been since we met, and none of us would have it any other way.

Finally, the doors open to breakfast carts. We all take our seats, and get ready. Marco looks heartbroken as he takes his seat.

"Go and sit down with your friends," whispers a voice at the head of the table.

Marco shoots out of his seat as Nicoli runs down the room to our seats; I'm not far behind to stand. He runs into my arms and I pick him up in the most intense bear hug ever. The second I put him down Marco picks him up and swings him around.

"Your back little buddy," Marco cries in glee! Nicoli just laughs like a toddler.

They sway so much I'm scared they'll crash horribly. Luckily, Nicoli puts his feet on his stool before they can. Marco let's go and almost sheepishly heads back to his seat. Nicoli does as well.

"Well, now that you've had this little reunion, let's eat." Declares Wendi. We all dig in the second she finishes. We keep turning to each other and smiling between every bite. By the end of the meal, Nicoli crawls into my lap. He falls asleep pretty quickly, so we carry him to his old bed, and join him. Marco sketches him while I pull out my book. We sit together for what seems like hours, just being brothers.