The Fall of the Aftons

123: Michael Afton

Michael slowly woke up, scanning his environment with hazy, sleepy eyes. Had he fallen asleep? When did he fall asleep? How had he fallen asleep? The last thing he could remember was hitting his head when he was running back and forth between Beth's hospital room and Evan's hospital room. After that, he couldn't remember anything. His brain was too fuzzy and he had a horrible headache.

He sat up slowly, trying to figure out where he was.

And that's when he realized he had an IV in his arm and an oxygen mask on his face.

He immediately took the oxygen mask off and tried to pull the IV out, but suddenly a nurse came into his room and stopped him.

"Hey, don't take that out!" she exclaimed, grabbing his hand to stop him. "You need to keep that in for now." She grabbed the oxygen mask and tried to put it back over his face, but he twisted and turned so that she couldn't. "Stop moving!" she said, laughter filling her voice. "You need to keep this on for now, too."

"I can't!" he said nervously, pushing the oxygen mask away. "I have to find my siblings! I need to make sure that they're okay!" He tried to get up, but she gently pushed him back further into his bed. "No, no, stop it! I need to find them. I need to find them!"

"Calm down," she said softly, sweet and kind. "I'm sure that your siblings are okay. But right now, we need to ensure you're okay."

"I'm fine! I need to find my siblings!"

"Sir, you are not fine. You need time to rest and recuperate. Your siblings will be perfectly fine," she said as she put the oxygen mask back on his face. "So right now, we need to ensure you recover."

"I don't need to recover! Nothing is wrong with me, I need to find my siblings and make sure that they're okay!" he exclaimed, trying to take the oxygen mask off again. "I shouldn't even be here! I'm fine!"

"Yes, you do need to recover."

"And why is that?" he snapped, irritated that she wouldn't let him find his siblings.

"Because you're malnourished--again, according to your medical records."

"I'm always malnourished. That's what happens when you develop anorexia. It's nothing new. I'm fine." He tried to take the oxygen mask off, but the nurse stopped him. "Why am I even here?!"

"You hit your head on the floor when you were running around. Your father was concerned that you had a concussion, so he found me and your other nurse to care for you. As we were testing you for a concussion, you said that you felt dizzy and lightheaded. We didn't think much of it because we were actively checking you for a concussion, but when you suddenly passed out without any other signs of a concussion, we got concerned. We ran some tests and found that you're severely malnourished--again. So we had to hook you up to an IV so you could get the nutrients that you need."

He sighed, frustrated. "But I'm fine! I'm malnourished all of the time!"

"Michael, this isn't just normal malnourishment. This is dangerously bad malnourishment. That's why we didn't give your father an eating plan like we did the last two times you were here."

"I don't care!" he exclaimed, frustrated as he tried to escape his bed again.

"You need to stay in your bed, Michael," the nurse said.

"No! I need to find my siblings!"

After a few minutes of them bickering with one another, she stepped back. Taking advantage of her sudden distance, he took off the oxygen mask and pulled out his IV, immediately standing up so he could leave.

The second he landed on his feet, the whole world spun around him and he collapsed. But just before he hit the floor, the nurse helped him back onto his feet. He held his spinning head in his hands as she helped him back onto his bed before she put his oxygen mask back on and prepared the IV to be reinserted.

"Do you believe me now?" she asked softly, a slight smirk on her face.

"Yes," he grumbled.

She chuckled softly, then pulled his arm down to insert the IV back into his arm. He winced, the large needle hurting him more than he expected, and she apologized.

"This still doesn't change the fact that I need to find my siblings," he told her, his voice sounding a lot more irritated than he intended.

"I'm aware. But you need to be focused on yourself. I understand that you're worried about your siblings, but right now, you need to be worried about yourself." She smiled softly. "Trust me, I know how it is. I'm the eldest sister of three. You never stop worrying about them, even when they're all grown up and living on their own."

"Yeah," he mumbled. "I just don't want them to be in danger."

"I get it," she said with an understanding smile. "Where are your siblings staying? Do you know?"

He nodded his head. "My sister is in the immunology wing for an allergic reaction, and my brother is in the PICU for hypoxemic hypoxia from pneumonia."

The nurse opened her mouth to say something but stopped when she heard footsteps enter the room. Both she and Michael turned to the doorway, trying to see who was there.

"I hear that my returning patient has returned yet again," Doctor Ingissroy--Michael's doctor from other malnourishment recoveries and the Bite of '83--said, leaning against the doorway with her arms crossed over her chest.

"D-Doctor Ingissroy!" Michael exclaimed, surprised to see her. "Wh-What are you doing here?"

"I work in the PICU, remember? You and your brother are my patients."

He stilled, stunned. "I... I'm in the PICU again?" he asked softly.

She frowned and nodded her head. "Mmhmm," she hummed. "When was the last time that you ate, kid? Based on your labs, it's been a long time."

"I-I..." He trailed off, looking at his feet. "I don't know. I've been so busy caring for my siblings and my father's friend's daughter that I haven't paid any attention to myself."

Her frown deepened. "No wonder you got so bad so fast," she said sadly. "Because according to your records, you just had your blood drawn again a few weeks ago. Correct?"

He nodded his head. "The nurse said that my glucose was lower than average, but that everything else was slowly starting to get better."

"Yes, that's correct," she confirmed. "You were doing much better compared to previous visits. The nurse even said that he was impressed with your progress."

He frowned and looked away. "And now I'm back at stupid square one again."

Doctor Ingissroy smiled softly. "Yes, that's true. But it'll be okay. Setbacks happen when you're recovering from stuff like this--especially when you're recovering from severe anorexia, just as you are." Her smile widened slightly. "Now, I've got some tests to run on both you and your brother. Once I'm done, would you like to visit your brother?"

He smiled excitedly. "Yes, please!"