Reaching for the Stars

Chapter 45: Hollow Spring

There he was, lying in his almost dead-like slumber.

Sitting on a chair next to the berth, Max watched Tom like a guardian. He had been there all day and the night before. The sun was setting again, but he had no intention to leave the room.

Tom looked peaceful, undisturbed. Doctor didn't know when he should wake up. He could wake up in a week or two or even more. He suffered so many injuries, cuts, several stabs on the back, some gunshot wounds, and he lost some claws. It was heartbreaking to see the bandages almost covering his chest, stomach, arms, legs, and head. On top of it all, doctor said he was blind and his eyes seemed to be bleeding.

What he would do to save the wolf from this.

He couldn't do anything except calling the emergency services and getting the wolf into the ambulance. After that, he could only anxiously stare at the white floor in the hallway as the doctors tended to him. When he learnt that the wolf had no known relatives, he looked down in suppressed grief. Tom was an orphan.

He softly caressed the wolf's hand, glad that most of his fur had been cleaned to its familiar grey. How many things did Tom not tell him? Did he... did he not trust him enough to tell these things? Max felt like he hadn't done enough for the wolf to earn his full trust.

"Did you eat something, Max?" Someone asked him.

The dog only shook his head. Truthfully, he wasn't hungry. He was too worried. What if the wolf woke up when he was gone? What if he did not even wake up?

That fight... it was beyond hellish. He could still see it in his mind, just how uncontrolled, bloodthirsty, and savage had the wolf been. He never saw someone with such intensity of hate and pure wildness in their eyes. It was like a scene from the scariest horror film. The wolf's grin, red eyes, readied claws were haunting him, with his fur reddened by blood all the while he stood still in defiance. Max had been utterly shocked and disgusted at the scene of slaughter before him. The sight of blood and dead bodies on the ground was enough to make him throw up.

Yet...

Tom had been nothing except that. He was the most honest, most straightforward, sincerest person he had ever known. The wolf always watched his words and actions, always cautiously thought about anything he did, always kept himself in check. So... what happened? Was there another side of him that he had kept hidden away?

This dichotomy of personality was bewildering him, and Max had no clue at all as to why.

Someone gently put their hand on his shoulder. "Max, I'm going to get something to eat."

He only nodded.

That hand moved to stroke his head fur. "Tom will be fine." Octo said softly, then took the hand away.

If only... if only the panther knew just how hopeless he felt that night. Never in his life did he feel utter hopelessness like that night. The wolf was fighting for his life, and all he could do was watch. The wolf was almost dead, and all he could do was... watch.

His hand tightened around Tom's hand, then lessened, then tightened again.

Please, wake up.

-

"What happened?"

It was the first thing out of his mouth when he went inside the hospital room for the first time. It was about 8 in the morning when he received a group message from Max. He was on the way to work, but then told his boss that he'd come a bit later because he had to go to the hospital. As he entered the room, he was greeted by the sight of a bandaged Tom on the berth with Max sitting on a chair next to him.