Unconditional Love

89. Stronger Together

Aman sat by Rahul bhai's bedside, his fingers gently wrapping around his elder brother's still hand. 

The steady beep of the monitors was the only sound in the room, apart from Aman's soft, broken voice.

"I'm sorry..." Aman whispered, his tears slipping down his cheek as he watched Rahul's face, hoping for any sign of movement. 

"Please... come back to me. To Virat bhai. He needs you... I need you. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you." His fingers trembled, holding Rahul's hand tighter.

The door clicked open quietly behind him. Aman didn't turn, but he felt Virat's presence before he heard his steps. A warm hand settled on Aman's shoulder.

"Come on, kiddo..." Virat's voice was soft, his thumb rubbing comfortingly against Aman's shoulder. "He's strong. He'll come back."

Aman shook his head, wiping his tears quickly. "He shouldn't have to be strong because of me."

Virat crouched next to Aman, turning him so they were face to face. "He's strong because he loves us. Just like we love him. No more blaming yourself, okay? We're in this together."

Aman's lips trembled, but he nodded. 

Virat wrapped his arms around him, holding him tightly for a moment before helping him up. "Come. He'd want you to rest too."

The next 24 hours were a blur of waiting, restless sleep, and countless cups of bitter hospital coffee. 

They took turns sitting by Rahul bhai's side, hoping for even the slightest sign that he would wake up.

Virat and Rohit took the bench in the waiting room that night, Rohit curled into Virat's side as his head rested against his shoulder. 

Aman dozed off with his head in Jassi's lap, Jassi running his fingers through Aman's hair in a slow, soothing rhythm as he sat back in the plastic chair.

At times, Virat would step outside for air, needing space to clear his head. The hospital air was thick with antiseptic and anxiety. 

One night, Rohit followed him and found Virat leaning against the wall, his eyes closed, a cigarette between his fingers—the first in months.

Rohit didn't say anything. He just stepped close, resting his head against Virat's arm quietly. 

Virat glanced down, exhaled smoke slowly, and let his hand drop to Rohit's back, fingers trailing comfortingly. He threw the cigarette and pulled Rohit closer who rested his head on Virat's chest.

They stood there in silence, the weight of it all pressing down on them, but they held each other up.

Thirty-six hours had passed.

They were back in the waiting room. Aman was asleep again, this time on Jassi's shoulder. 

Rohit was scrolling through emails idly, trying to stay awake, while Virat stared blankly ahead, his mind clearly elsewhere.

The sound of footsteps made them all look up. The Doctor approached, his expression softer than before. "Rahul sir is showing signs of improvement. He's stable now."

It took a second for it to sink in. Then Virat stood up quickly. "He's okay?"

The Doctor continued. "He's still weak, but he's regained consciousness."

Rohit let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. 

Aman jolted awake as Virat turned to him. "He's awake, Aman."