Our Boys

The Waking

"...and when Ethan kicked Deji I swear his face turned the same shade of red as a Man United football shirt."

Simon paused long enough to reach for the cup of water that one of the nurses had thoughtfully provided. He was surprised to find all the ice melted and the liquid room temperature. Looking at the window, he saw that it was completely dark outside and a quick glance at his watch revealed just how many hours had passed.

As if on cue, the muscles in his back chose that exact moment to spasm and Simon groaned as he levered himself to his feet. Releasing the small, limp hand he had been holding all afternoon, he stumbled away from the bed and over to the window.

Staring out into the night, Simon struggled to remain optimistic. James had checked in twice more before his shift ended but the best he could say was that Josh was holding his own. Other than the occasional nurse, no one else had entered the room. The father in Simon had decided that someone in social services was going to get a bollocking.

Resting his forehead against the cool glass, Simon closed his eyes and gave a deep sigh. "C'mon Josh, you're a survivor. I know you're tired but you can't give up. Tell those angels where they can stick their fucking secrets."

Straightening his aching spine, Simon gave one more sigh as he turned back to the bed. It took his tired brain just a moment to register that something had changed. The blue, plastic eyes of the toy cat glinted in the light but next to them, another pair of hazel eyes sparkled and stared back at him.

Suddenly at a loss for words, Simon slowly approached the bed; his eyes never leaving the child's face. He watched as Josh looked all around the room, turning his head slightly to see everything. When he spotted the toy, he seemed to blink in surprise and turned back to Simon, the question plain in his gaze.

"That's yours. I bought it for you. My name is Simon. I found you in that shopping centre you were living in. Do you remember me carrying you?"

A small shake of the head was his only answer.

"You were pretty sick. That was three days ago and ..."

A sudden look of panic appeared on Josh's face and he once more began looking about the room but it was obvious that this time he was looking for something specific.

"Ethan is fine." Hazel eyes met his and Simon could almost feel the bond being formed. "He's a great kid. You took very good care of him."

The child visibly relaxed but his eyes never left Simon's.

"Hey, I bet you're thirsty. Why don't I call a nurse and get us a little room service?"

Getting a small nod, Simon reached for the call button hanging from the bed's rail. As he leaned forward, he noticed that the small hand he had been holding was clinched tightly around a portion of the sheet; the only outward sign of the fear that the child must have been feeling.

Laying his hand on top of the tiny fist, Simon was going to utter generic words of comfort but something in that unwavering stare changed his mind. Instead of trying to reassure the boy that everything would be fine, Simon asked him a simple question.

"Trust me?"

A long moment passed in silence and then Simon felt the hand beneath his relax; the fingers releasing the cover and then turning to grasp his. He had his answer and the significance of it was almost overwhelming.

...

Josh cracked his eyes open and looked around the room. Yep. It was a hospital alright, so that part hadn't been a dream. Shifting his head slightly to the right, he saw Simon slumped back in his chair with his mouth slightly open as he snored. And it wasn't a dream neither. Josh wiggled his fingers and felt the warm hand covering them tighten slightly in response even though the snores never stopped. Feeling better than he had in a really long time, Josh gave a little sigh of content and drifted back to sleep.