A/N: I know how late this is. I apologize. It was just really tough getting through it tbh
-warning-
"So how much is this going to cost me?"
The nurse spared me an eye roll. "MRIs can go for up to $5,000 depending on what the doctor orders. Sometimes more. But your insurance will take care of it."
What insurance?
"Can I talk to the doctor?"
"I suppose. The MRI has already been ordered however. So if your aim to convince him not to, you're out of luck."
Bitch. "It has nothing to do with the MRI."
They had been painfully brief when I brought him in. I wanted to know if he'd woke up yet. And more importantly, if he blamed me. Maybe it hadn't hit me yet but the gravity of the situation didn't seem that dire.
What could really be wrong with him other than a concussion? So he'd bumped his head a bit. The nurse returned. "He'll be out shortly."
An aging man with salt and pepper hair came out a few minutes later and shook my hand. "So?"
His lips pressed together. "I wish we'd gotten to him sooner."
My stomach clenched. "Is he--"
"No. Not physically at least. When he fell, did you say?" I nodded. "He managed to dislodge his shoulder, break his collar bone, and fracture two ribs while breaking two. A broken rib punctured his right lung and it collapsed. It put too much pressure on the left lung so that also collapsed. And that was before the paramedics even got to your house. They were able to help him once they arrived, clearly, and in the ambulance he was given enough air to keep him alive. Once he arrived we re-inflated the lungs and put him on a respirator."
"So?" I prodded again. I could feel panic creeping up. All that shit sounded expensive. I needed to stay calm. "He's fine right?"
"He hasn't regained consciousness nor is he responding to any stimuli."
"What are you saying?" I felt light headed.
"It appears he's entered a comatose state."
"A what?"
The doctor sighed. "I believe his brain is operating at its lowest level--he's in a coma. The MRI will show the extent of the brain damage--"
"What? He fell down some stairs--he can't be brain damaged. He's playing this up." I don't know why I was so angry.
"Sir, I assure you he isn't. He's going in as we speak. I should have the results in an hour or two. Until then perhaps you can take a seat? Our Human Resources director has some questions for you."
I knew what kind of questions they'd be asking. Of course they'd launch an investigation into something like this. Why would I have pushed my own sub down the stairs?
Sure he pissed me off but I didn't want him dead because of it. I had four shitty cups of coffee while a corporate cunt asked me endless questions about our home life.
She finally relented after almost forty minutes.
The people at the nurses station were all whispers but I did my best to ignore them. Finally I called Scott.
I got a groggy hello. "How's it going?" For some reason I wasn't at all tired. But I wasn't looking forward to work in the morning.
"Oh good. Fine. He's sleeping. How are you? How's Bailey?"
"Bailey is...fine. I'm fine too."
If Bailey was in a coma what the hell was I supposed to do with the kid?
I doubted the adoption agency took returns.
I scrubbed my hand over my face. "Don't worry about work tomorrow. You're bringing Bailey home tonight right? He's fine?"
"Uh it remains to be seen." The doctor appeared through the double doors with a folder. "I've got to go."
"Oh... Okay. Keep in--"
I hung up the phone and got to my feet. I realized how badly I had to piss. "The prognosis isn't great," he said immediately.
I was so sick of his stupid hospital talk. "Is he going to die or not?"
"It's not quite so cut and dry Mr. Namric. He has entered a comatose state officially."
"How long?"
"It could be hours, days, weeks, even years. And if he does 'wake' you need to be prepared for him to be in a total vegetative state."
"You can't be serious," I sputtered. "Check again."
"If he does wake up fully he will never be able to function at the same cognitive level you knew him to be. He won't be same person. The damage to frontal lobe was extensive. If there are any changes we'll call you. Until then I suggest you get his affairs in order and contact his family. Once he officially enters the vegetative state his organs will begin to fail."
"What?"
"Our machines will be able to keep him alive for a while but... I've yet to see a family want their loved one to suffer like that." He put his hand on my shoulder. "You will be the one to make the final decision to take him off the machines."
"Oh." It was like everything I knew was spiraling down.
Had I done this? Had I killed him?
No, he's not dead.
But he would be. In one way or another. "I'm very sorry for your loss."
"He's not dead yet asshole."
The man just gave me a tight smile and disappeared. The bitchy nurse came back to me. "So I see you don't have insurance. Is this a good address to receive your bill? And would you like to set up a payment plan?"
"I'll call you," I replied numbly.
I threw out the styrofoam cup and got into my truck.
What kind of monster had I turned into?
QOTC: Who else is crying?!? 😭🙋
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Heal My Heart
Romance*A continuance of "Good Boy" But can be read independently* Pain is nothing new. Scott King lost his true love to lung cancer five years ago. He has since coped by burying himself in his work and keeping Danny's items in a shrine-like manner. He's t...
