Better Off Alone (Adopted by Brendon and Sarah Urie)

54. Sarah

Brendon wasn't in his bed when Kala and I came back from seeing Callie.

"Where's Bren?" I asked Zack as I came into the room.

"Sar, I didn't want to freak you out while you were up with Callie. How is she?"

"Zack, where is my husband?"

"They took him back to the operating room," he said, bracing for me to go nuclear on him.

"What?! Why didn't you call me, or text me!? What happened!?"

"His wound is infected. They literally just took him to clean it out. Not even major surgery."

"Zack Cloud-Hall - you thought it would be what? Better to not tell me?! To let me wait until now?"

"Sarah," Zack said, putting his hands on my shoulders. "They're going to drain the wound, maybe have to open him to clean up some more and then they're going to pack the wound and bring him back. They're not even putting him under. They're just using a local anaesthetic so

"You still should have said something sooner! I could have been down here when they took him!"

"They expect to have him back within the hour. Sarah, it's not a major - anything. Callie is more important than Bren having some pus drained out of him."

I shook my head.

"You should have told me," I said, dropping into the chair beside Bren's bed.

"I'm sorry. I wanted you to focus on Callie. Truly. How's she doing? Any change?"

"She's awake," I said simply.

"Really? That's great! Is she, does she know..."

"What she did? Yes. She does. It was the first thing she said to me."

Zack nodded. I sat, staring at Brendon's empty bed, torn between being angry with Zack for not telling me Bren was going back in for surgery and him wanting to make sure I could focus on Callie. I sighed.

Less than an hour later, porters brought Brendon back on a stretcher. His eyes were closed and his cheeks were still pretty red. The porters moved him onto his bed and the nurse got him settled.

"They gave him a bit of sedation. His fever was pretty high and he was hallucinating. He thought we were trying to hurt him. He should wake up within, oh, another hour or so. His fever was up near 105 when we took him down for surgery. It's 103 now. Still high, but not as dangerous. The doctors are confident they got all the infected material but they've put in a drain to make sure."

She showed me the small, plastic tube and bag-like thing stitched into Brendon's wound. It wasn't a big bag, but the liquid inside was a sickly yellow/pink.

"We'll keep an eye on that drain and change it out as frequently as needed. Let him rest."

I nodded at the nurse and took Bren's hand as he lay, sleeping, his cheeks still bright red with fever.

I'm not entirely sure how much time passed before Bren started moving and looking like he was waking up. He started out frowning and writhing a little before he took a deep breath, let it out and then just sort of settled.  A few minutes later, his eyes fluttered open.

"Hey there handsome," I smiled at him.

"I bet I look real handsome, all sweaty and scruffy," he said, feeling his chin where his five o'clock shadow was more a ten o'clock feature.

"You always look handsome," I smiled and kissed him. "How're you feeling?"

"Mm," he said, closing his eyes. "Tired, sore and hot. And cold. Hey, Zack, can you grab me a tea?"