chemical bonds / 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥

ᶜʰᵃᵖᵗᵉʳ ⁵

                                                         George's Pov:

           My hands were tightly grasped around the wheel as Clay and I drove behind the ambulance on the way to the hospital. I could see Clay's frantic eyes on me out of the corner of my own. I knew he wanted to address it, address our terrifying new reality- but I couldn't make that connection yet. Not until I knew Tommy was in good hands.

                "Update from Wilbur!" Clay stated anxiously.

           He scanned the paragraph trying to make something of it as quickly as possible.

                   "So, okay, it sounds like he's stable. Wilbur says he called Tommy's parents and that they're on their way to the hospital," he said with relief in his voice.

                  "Good, good," was the only thing that came out of my mouth.

          I rubbed away the tears forming in my eyes and tried to focus on the road. The predictable daily drizzle had turned into heavy downpour, too little too late. Finally the slowest trip of our lives ended. Without thinking I pulled the car over to the curb behind where Tommy was being carried out of the ambulance. 

         Clay ran ahead and held the door open for them as they carried Tommy into the E.R. As I walked in I looked back at Wilbur who was clearly trying to comfort Tommy's parents through the phone, we locked eyes, mouths wide open. I looked away and ran to catch up with everyone else. Before I could even see him off Tommy had been pulled in surgery. I was thankful they were treating him so quickly but I wished he could have seen a familiar face before they put him under.

               "Here, why don't I show you to the waiting room," said a nurse as she put a hand on my shoulder.

           I realized I had been standing in the middle of the room, staring where Tommy last lay before being wheeled off.

              "Oh, yeah- thank you."

         Thin mauve cushions caught me as I sank into the nearest armchair. A small clock above the swinging doors told me it had only been an hour since we were sitting in the tube, barely appreciating each other's presence. I ran my tongue across my upper lip, catching the salty liquid that had gathered there without my noticing. 

         The same doors suddenly swung open as Clay walked into the room looking dazed. He spotted me in my corner and made his way over, falling into the seat next to me. We turned and stared at each other for a moment, swollen eyes and scrunched noses. Suddenly he reached out and pulled me into a deep hug.

              "George, I never say it enough- but I really care about you, alright. You're a great friend, I don't know where I would be without you."

         He was just gushy because of Tommy.

              "I care about you too."

          Why did that word sting, 'friend'. Why did it feel like it completely stole whatever 'care' meant and filled my chest with concrete. But more importantly, why did I care so much?

           Clay released me from the hug and went to talk to Wilbur who had just stumbled into the room. Now all we could do was wait. Somehow I eventually drifted into a light sleep, occasionally opening my eyes back open faintly as different medical staff came through the room. A few hours later I woke to Clay nudging me on the shoulder.

              "He's out of the operation, we can go wait in his room," Clay told me with a faint smile.

          Groggily I stood up and followed him through the hospital hallways until we had reached Tommy's ward. He had the room to himself. Warm light streamed through the floor to ceiling windows as the busy city below carried on. I backed up as I saw Tommy's parents were at his bedside. His father caught my eye and must have recognized me.

           "You don't have to leave, I know you all care about my son, here," he said as he rose and gestured to the stool next to the bed.

        Awkwardly I smiled and thanked him before looking over at Tommy. The attack could have been much worse and for that I was thankful, but still- the right side of his jaw and ear had been scorched violently and were bandaged.

           "What do you think Georgie? Van Gogh, right?" he said while giving me a wide grin.

          I chucked, happy to see his spirit couldn't leave him. Footsteps behind me grew louder as Clay made his way over to the bed, carrying a pudding cup.

            "Here big man, figured you could use something to eat." He said as he passed it over to Tommy's outstretched arms.

           "Thank you Dweem, you know you're going to make some lady very happy someday,"

          Clay gave Tommy a white-guy-smile while looking down and pulled himself into the folding chair next to me.

            "What, is there a woman in your life right now?" Tommy said through a smirk.

             "No, no Tommy, I'm not interested in any ladies right now."

             Was he even straight? God, fuck these intrusive thoughts. Of course he is. He's Clay from Florida who streams Minecraft all day- why would I even doubt that.