Lean On You (DNF) Book 2

Blue Lips

Anxiety pricked at George's skin like needles. He walked back to the elevator where he and Dr. Major parted ways and he got in. Floor Five. That's what Dan said, right? Just three levels up and he'd be with Clay again. But would Clay even want to be with him? After that huge fight they had not even twenty-four hours ago. 

Oh, just how much things could change in so little time. In twelve hours or less, everything George had held dear had been stripped away from him... again.

He opted for the stairs this time. Being confined to a closed space right now wasn't the best. And besides, back at school he climbed several flights of stairs everyday. His calves were made of steel at this point. As he normally did, he counted the steps as he ascended. Fifteen steps per flight, forty-five in total.

And then he opened the doors.

George had seen the death and farewells are many patients in this ward. The critical care unit was always quiet, in respect of those saying goodbye. There was never many people here, the patients normally stayed in the ER until they were stable, but those whose  conditions didnt improve where placed here.

Stepping out into the floor, the deafening silence became almost overwhelming. He heard his own footsteps echoed down the white corridors, the distant beeps of lowly heart monitors accompanying it.

"George?"

That voice. Of course he'd be here. Clay was his best friend.

"Nick...?"

Nick was standing outside of a door, George guessed it was Clay's room. Nick looked tired. It was still early morning, he was dressed in sweats and a random tshirt.

"Is he in there...?" George asked, stepping forward to head into the room, but Nick outreached his hand infront of Georges chest, stopping him.

"George..."

"What? Oh god... please dont tell me he doesnt want to see me... I need to apologize-"

"I know. Liz told me everything." Nick's voice was soft and quiet. He pulled George into a tight hug.

George froze. Sure, Nick was a loving person and very touchy. But never had he hugged George. Never had he held him.

"Why..."

"He's pretty beat up... it might be hard for you to see. He's in a coma... They're testing him... he might be bra-"

"Dont say it." George pulled away, tears clouding his eyes. "Please, just dont say it... not now, not until I apologize." He sniffled, forcing himself to give a weak smile.

Nick swallowed hard and stepped back, allowing George into the room.

Even if you tried to count how many machines Clay was hooked up too on your fingers, you'd run short. George threw his hand over his mouth in shock. He tried to mentally ready himself for this scene, but nothing could prepare him for this.

Clay's face was battered and bruise. Bandages covered half of his body, red rust stained his once sun-kissed skin. Burn marks crawled up the left side of his body, apparently the car caught fire not long before the first responders came. But his lips. They were a tinted blue. Like a corpse. Was he- no the heart monitor was beeping.

Flowers and other stupid 'get well' gifts littered the room. Once a popular kid, always a popular kid apparently.

"Hey Clay-" George breathed. "Hey Dream." He corrected. He walked over to the chair beside tbe bed and sat down. How many times had he sat in a chair like this next to his mother?

George reached out to grab Clay's hand but he stopped, hovering his hand over Clay's.

"Did... did you know that they discovered patients cant still hear while in a coma?" George pulled his hand back to himself. "So... you can hear me right now... yeah...?"

Clay didnt move. Obviously.

"I'm sorry." He breathed out. "For everything... for not listening, for not reaching out, for not being there... for not being better. You deserve better, yeah?" George smile weakly.

"Im going to ask you something... if you wake up- when you wake up, let me stay by your side... it doesnt have to be as a lover... just as a friend."

He was met with silence. Clay looked like he was made of glass. So pure. So fragile. George reached over and brushed some of the stray strands of hair from Clay's face. He stood up and leaned down, placing a final kiss goodbye on Clay's forehead.

"I'll be around, until Lizzie is better... I wont come by unless you tell me too. Take your time getting better. You have a whole lot of people waiting on the other side for you."

George turned on his heel to leave.

He always failed to notice the little things. He never took the time to smell the rose. He never looked back to see Clay's fingers stretch out then curl into a fist. A fist so tight his knuckles turned white, then he released it. His hand falling limp, like nothing happened.