What We Left Behind

Chapter Six: Where Humans Drown in Grief

The doctor looked like he was someone's son too.
He was young for someone being the head surgeon, and maybe that was why he looked distressed when he came out of the operation room and saw the state Morgan's mum was in. Her face was blotchy and red, her shoulders shaking with every strained sob she released.
She looked like she didn't currently possess any energy to do anything, much less, talk.
Morgan realised his duty as the only rational person in the family left, and directed his questioning gaze at the doctor. His throat was dry and he wanted to get up and get a glass of water or he wouldn't be able to get any words out, but he he was also reluctant to let go of his mother.
"Is my brother alright?" He blurted out. "Is he going to be okay?"
During the past minutes, Morgan had convinced himself that yeah, Eric was a fighter and thus, would come out of this situation alive. But his heart dropped dead into a pit in his stomach when the doctor offered no positive answer.
He was standing really politely, his fists clenching and unclenching.
"Is my son alright?" His mum demanded.
"Your son is alive," he began. A gasp escaped Morgan's mum's throat at this implication. The surprise. The relief. The happy ache of how something could go wrong so easily. And then be righted again.
Life sprinkled back into Morgan's dying hope.
"He's currently in comatose state."
"What?" His mum let out in a strained voice. Then she paused. "But he's alive, right? He'll be back, right?" The last word came out in desperation, her voice taking a begging tone.
Just as the doctor looked down at his shoes and released a heavy sigh, they heard a voice.
Morgan looked down the corridor to see Ms Brown running to them, calling his mum's name in panic. Morgan couldn't figure out who gave her the news, but he was glad to see her there, just as worried about Eric as everyone else was.
"What happened to Eric?" She panted as she skidded to a halt. "I—I saw in the news. He…" she took in Mum's crying face, and then Morgan's depressed one.
Ms Brown's eyes began to widen.
"He's in a coma, his heart is beating, though his heartbeat is very low. We thought it would pick up the pace, and it did. But the infection in his knee has spread throughout the blood. Recovery seems impossible."
The doctor hung his head, repeated an apology for their loss. "He's being provided all the help we can give him, but tonight might be difficult." There was a pause. "You can go see him." He offered Morgan a pat on his shoulder, then took his leave.
There was a lingering and killing silence that he left behind.
And then all three of them stumbled on shaky feet to get into the room Eric was in. His mum was the first one there, she just rushed to Eric's side and grabbed hold of his hand. The monitor beside him showed monotonous ups and downs that signified only the dull rhythmic heartbeat. Nothing that gave Morgan any hope.
Eric had survived the first time. They were grateful. But now when Eric had hurt himself once again, had put force onto his already weakened body, it didn't make sense.
Eric would have to learn a thing or two about not always putting his life in jeopardy when he woke up.
"Eric," his mum tried to calm her voice. "Oh my God, Eric please. I love you, Eric. I can't lose you."
Morgan winced.
He looked up to find Ms Brown staring at him. And this put him off edge.
He, instead of focusing on his brother, wanted to demand an explanation from Ms Brown, maybe strangle it out of her if she didn't confide. He wanted to know. He wanted her to see what was happening, even after she had been there and could've prevented it.
You were his psychologist. He wanted her to look into their eyes and then answer what had gone wrong. He told you everything. You could've saved him. You should've saved him.
He knew it was unreasonable, blaming her. Maybe it was just him seeing her as the easy target to put all the brunt of it on. If he really thought about it, it was actually Ms Brown's task to make sure Eric didn't do again what he had once tried to do. It was her responsibility to make sure Eric didn't try to commit suicide again.
He wasn't in for all these things he had thought in his mind, but he did say something, in his scratchy, throaty voice.
"No, he isn't alright," he said, letting his rage burst into his voice and expression. "My brother is going to die."
Ms Brown was left looking like a deer caught among the headlights, the train approaching. The one who saved everyone, who could save her now?
"I—I'm…" she began, then her words were drowned out under the sound of his mum releasing a cry.
"No, he isn't," she protested, shaking her head frantically. Her hair flew about. And she stood up, out of Morgan's embrace. "He's been here before. He's come out of it before." Even when the doctor had just now declared that recovery seemed difficult, Morgan wondered how could his mother be so sure. She looked up at him, her eyes wide and haunting. Full of hope that was going to harm her. "He'll come out again.'
This faith would've helped you somewhere else, mum.
Morgan just shook his head, so slight that he made sure his mother didn't see him do it. Because he wanted to be the last person in the world to destroy her hope. There were plenty of others.
"Morgan," his mum snapped him out of his stupor. "You said he would be fine." When he turned to look at her, he found his mother staring at him with accusation in her eyes. Not really an accusation, just a hint, but it was there. "You said he'd make it out, Morgan." Her voice demanded an explanation.
Morgan couldn't believe his ears.
Ms Brown was still staring at them in a frozen expression, all her features stuck in place. It ended here for them. For Ms Brown and Morgan and his mum. The one person who connected them all together was gone.
Morgan released a shuddering breath. All his energy seemed to deflate out of him just then. His limbs went lax, unable to hold onto himself anymore. He wished someone would just hold him, someone would hold this big baby who was crying in his mother's proximity.
Tears leaked out of his eyes and rained down his cheeks. Tears in huge bursts.
Why does sorrow always hit them?
Why did this have to happen?
"Mum," he whispered. "Mum."
He wasn't trying to get any attention or whatever, because he knew she wouldn't focus right now, but he just wanted to say something, take the name of someone he loved.
And it hurt too much to take Eric's name.
Why does sorrow always hit us?