It Goes On - Book l

Aftermath

Simon's Point of View:

The hospital was packed, and all of us were frantically wondering if Johnny was going to make it. My best friend – I failed him, and I hope he wasn't going to pay the price for it. We have been here for going on six hours now and luckily, Johnny didn't need surgery. One of the nurses informed us that he had to undergo multiple scans to ensure that his brain wasn't bleeding nor was there any excess fluid. The bullet had gone through his ear and exited through the side of his temple, and it was likely that he would have a hard time hearing out of his left ear for the rest of his life – being deaf also being an outcome.

Either way, it was better than being dead.

My whole world would have shattered. What was I going to do without the annoying little cuss always under my skin?

Obviously, my life would never be the same, but I would continue to carry that guilt over mourning his loss.

He needed a blood transfusion, and Kiera was the only one that I knew who had O-Positive blood, but she couldn't qualify due to her pregnancy. Instead, Laswell stepped up without any hesitation and donated a pint for him. He was slowly coming back to his senses, and I never left his side during the entire time. Aside from me or Teeter, he had nobody. His family was distant from him since they learned he moved to the United States for a woman he loved, and he was okay with it as he always told me that Teeter meant more to him, though he'd be lying if he said that he wouldn't be upset if his family wouldn't care about the fact that he was marrying her while she carried his child.

I had no idea where my wife was, nor the rest of my team as I was the only one allowed in to see him as the hospital limited guests due to their low tolerance of strangers crowding the hospital rooms.

"L.T." He panted at me, his heart monitor beating calmly after he had woken up since his last round of fluids.

"Thought we lost ya."

"This thick skull came in handy after all, eh?"

"You're not lying. The nurse showed me the piece of your skull they had to remove. Thick bastard it is. Congratulations, you've gotten a souvenir to take home for the holidays."

"Keep it safe for me, will you?"

"I'm not touching that thing," I scoffed, relieved to see him breathe a smirk, slowly coming back to his normal, annoying self. "You solid?"

"Getting there. What happened?"

"Well, to sum it up: you got shot in the head."

"Good update, Simon. Are you still a bastard?"

"Never changed."

"I'll definitely know I was dead when I see the day that you're nice."

"Bet you would've so that you could see it," I chuckled, reaching over to the side table to get him the bottle of water he was reaching for, knowing he was too weak to get it on his own. "Want me to read you a bedtime story, too?"

"Fuck no. I'll happily listen to the monitor and be amazed that my heart still beats."

"Yeah, for some reason, you had an angel watching over you." I teased, even though it killed me to even joke with him about this, but I knew that joking around with him eased his nerves as if I was more reserved and quieter, he would be freaking out about his condition.

"M' like a cat, L.T. Nine lives. Got eight to go."

"More like two. Better use it wisely."

"One more is all I need to take down that Russian rat."