I watched the clock as my Spotify playlist played through one earbud, occasionally chatting with Leo.
I wanted to try and keep my mind busy, because I knew my anxiety might start acting up if I didn't.
When we had first gotten here, the lady at the reception office for this little area asked to see our identification, and once she saw our badges, she just nodded and pointed us to this little semi-hidden areas with nice leather recliner chairs.
When we asked, she had said Jon's surgery would probably last a few hours, as they also wanted to set a few of his ribs, and I guess his leg needed some work too, besides all the plane pieces they needed to remove.
I shivered at the thought of it. I still felt horrible that he was on that flight at all, but so incredibly grateful that he had survived.
My head immediately turned towards the door as a doctor walked through it. He turned to us, walking over, and sat down across from Leo and I.
"The good part is," he began, getting straight to the point, "the surgery was successful, and Mr. Cozart is currently in recovery. The bad news is he is still in a coma. We are not quite sure of the cause, but chances are, his body sent him into shock to begin with, and he has evidence of a concussion, which would make sense. Our hopes are that around the time the anesthesia would wear up, he will wake up, but there are no guarantees."
I nodded, taking in the information and processing it before I spoke.
"If he doesn't wake up when the medicine would wear off, what will happen?"
The doctor sighed, looking tired, but his eyes were kind and warm, and his face held a sort of wisdom, though he could only be in his mid-forties.
"Mr. Cozart might be asleep for quite awhile. He's been under a lot of trauma, and if he doesn't wake up soon, it's possible he might not ever. However, there is still a very high chance he will emerge from his comatose state before we get to that point."
"When can we see him?" Leo asked, voicing my thoughts exactly.
"If you'd like, you can come with me right now. Just a warning though, he isn't in the best state."
I stood up along with Leo, and the doctor nodded to himself, before leading us through the doors, and down a series of hallways, before turning into a small room with a window on one side and a small couch on another.
I was focused on the hospital bed, where Jon lay comatose, bandages covering his arms and part of his head, his skin a sickly yellow-white hue.
I rushed over, gently grabbing his hand as tears began to spill.
"Oh Jon, I'm so sorry..."
