Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
//chapter fifty-nine • fresh outa both
HOSPITALS ALWAYS REMINDED Andrew of his former dream to be a doctor—the one he'd given up willingly, at least that's what he told himself. It wasn't that he was bitter, he'd say, but there was a quiet resentment in how he looked back on those years, all those late nights of studying and early mornings spent volunteering, thinking medicine was his only possible purpose.
He couldn't shake the idea that if he didn't become someone in the world of white coats and bright lights, then he'd just...be someone to Rose. Like her love was contingent on the letters he'd write after his name or the white coat he might never wear.
Now, staring at that hospital, he felt something strange. Not quite anger, not quite sadness—just a ghost of something he'd once fed. He wondered if it was possible to resent a dream that wasn't his own or if, all along, it had really been his, twisted into shape by someone else's neglect.
It wasn't like Rose had done anything for him, anyway. She'd barely shown up at his achievements, missed his birthdays, and only acknowledged him when she needed to look good in front of her country club friends. Yet somehow, she'd managed to be the reason that dream was so etch deep inside him.
Made him feel that, if he could become a doctor, maybe she'd finally be proud. Maybe then, she'd see him as more than just an afterthought.
But here he was, standing in front of yet another hospital, empty-handed. No stethoscope around his neck, no comforting bedside manner, no future in the field he'd once believed was his purpose.
Just him, a spectator, peering into a life that had never been his to begin with.
With Kie and Spencer trapped in the tank for the next twelve hours, they were basically playing the waiting game. There wasn't enough space in the waiting room, to the Pogues waited for the verdict in the Twinkie instead. John B came out of the hospital about a half and hour after the run had risen.
"Okay, so, good news, they're gonna be okay." He said as he reached the Twinkie. "They just need a little while to decompress."
"Shit man."
Sarah let out a shaky breath. "I'm just glad they're okay."
Andrew shared that thought.
"While we wait," Pope held the barnacle covered amulet in his hand, "I say we go back to Genrette's and demand cash for this amulet. I don't know about you guys, but after all we've been through, I think we're owed a lot more than fifty K."
JJ leaned back against the Twinkie and crossed his arms. "I think I agree with that assessment."
"Where'd that come from, Pope?" Sarah leaned out the passenger side window to look at him, not expecting such ambition from him.
