SKYFALL, Johnny Kavanagh

He's okay

Maeve's Point of View

I don't know what woke me.
The radiator?
The cold?
My own heart, still pacing like it hadn't realised the match was long over?

It was just after six when someone shook me gently by the shoulder.

"Maeve."
A whisper.
A voice I knew.

I blinked hard, my eyes dry and sore, the room blurry.

For a second, I thought I was dreaming.

The hotel duvet was half off my legs, my knees still drawn up to my chest.
The TV across from us reflected the streetlights in the black screen like twin moons.

"Maeve." Gibsie said again, crouched beside the bed.
His hoodie was askew, hair a mess, and there was a strange light in his eyes – like something taut had finally snapped loose.

My brain caught up before my mouth did.

"Is it...?"

"He's out." Gibsie nodded. "He's okay."

The words didn't register.

Not really.

I sat up, spine aching, throat too dry to swallow.

"He's what?"

"Out of surgery." Gibsie said, voice low but steady. "His Da just called. He's awake. Tired. But he's fine."

And then it hit.

Like stepping out into sunlight after hours of rain.

Relief came crashing down so hard I forgot how to breathe.

I blinked fast, but a tear slid down anyway.

Gibsie noticed but didn't say anything.

"His Da said it went well?" I whispered.

"Yeah." He said, easing down onto the mattress beside my leg. "They... uh. Found a few things. Turns out he had some complication from that surgery back at Christmas. An adhesion, or something, blocking—" He stopped himself. "Anyway, they cleared it up. Fixed what needed fixing."

"He also had an infection brewing. Probably from the way he's been pushing through things. They're keeping him on IV antibiotics for now. But the worst of it's handled."

"And he's okay?"

"He's okay." Gibsie said again, like he knew I needed to hear it more than once.

He smiled a little. "Also, apparently he kept asking for you."

My breath caught.

"Me?"

"Well." He grinned wider. "Technically, he asked for 'Sunshine,' which confused the hell out of his Da. I thought the poor man was going to check the weather app."

"Sunshine." I echoed, voice barely audible.

I didn't realise I was smiling until Gibsie gave me a knowing look.

"I figured you'd want to see him." He said, already rising. "I was going to go either way. But I thought I'd knock in case you wanted to come too."

I was already throwing off the covers, feet hitting the cold floor.

"No rush." He said, moving to the window and peeking out through the curtain. "It's still early. Hospital's just a fifteen-minute walk. Town's dead quiet."

My boots were stiff, cold from sitting near the door all night.
I shrugged into my coat, tucked my cell into my pocket, then crossed the room and gently nudged Niamh's shoulder.

She blinked awake fast, her head still resting on Feely's shoulder.
He'd stayed perfectly still the whole time, like he hadn't wanted to wake her.

"Maeve?" She mumbled, voice thick.

"He's out of surgery." I whispered. "He's okay."

Her eyes opened all the way. "You serious?"

I nodded. "Gibsie and I are going to the hospital."

"I'll come." She started to sit up.

"No." I said quickly. "You two need to stay."

Feely frowned, brushing his hand through his hair. "Why?"

"Because someone has to cover for us. If all four of us disappear before breakfast, they'll notice. But if it's just me and Gibsie."

"They'll assume you're sulking somewhere." Feely finished and gave me a soft look. "You sure you'll be alright?"

"I'll be with her." Gibsie chimed in, zipping up his coat. "I know where we're going. I'll keep her safe."

Niamh sat up fully now, looking between the two of us, like she wanted to argue but didn't know how. "Tell him I said hi?"

"I will."

"And call if anything changes," Feely added.

"Of course."

The hotel hallway was cold and dim as we stepped out.
Somewhere downstairs, I could hear the beginnings of morning – kitchen staff moving, breakfast carts rolling across tile, someone speaking too loudly into a phone.

Outside, the sky was a silver bruise.
The horizon hadn't quite turned gold yet, but you could feel it trying.
That fragile, bluish hour just before dawn broke open.

We walked in silence at first, boots scuffing against wet pavement, our breath curling in the air like smoke.