Charlie and Miles

Miles

"Cross my heart and hope to die, burn my lungs and close my eyes, I've lost control and I don't want it back." - Nicotine, Panic! At the Disco.

***

I didn't want to leave him. My mom being a therapist, I kind of inherited the need to help others through emotional issues, but David thought it was for the best, so he and I ushered Charlie's parents and little brother. Through the window, I could see Charlie lying there.

His little brother came up to me and tugged on the bottom of my shirt. He was probably 10 or 11, with wide eyes the same color as Charlie, caramel brown. I'd gotten a good look when I'd kept him from falling out of bed.

"What's your name," I asked, kneeling to reach his height. Being 5'11" had it's purposes, but when talking to a 4'3" child, it felt awkward. "Julian," he said, holding out his hand to shake. I took it, and Julian asked the question I knew he would.

"Is Charlie going to be okay?"

I took a breath. There's three answers we give. To the parents, to the patients, and to the doctors. But we don't have an answer for siblings, especially younger ones. Finally, I nodded.

"Your brother is going to be just fine. He just has to go through something really hard first, but your brother is a fighter. He's going to be perfectly okay." It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't necessarily the full truth, and it hurt that I'd had to even hide anything from Julian.

"Mr. and Mrs. Young, Charlie is going to be here a while, so I think it only appropriate to maybe bring somethings to make him more at ease here. Some clothes, posters, pictures, anything. You might want to do the same."

The two nodded, and Mrs. Young grabbed Julian's hand. I straightened up and stood next to David, my professional side showing through.

After the three departed to collect their things, David and I walked to the food court. It was already 5 o'clock. Dinner time.

"I'm going home at 7 tonight, Miles," David told me on the way. "The missus wants me home for dinner with her parents."

"Alright, Dave."

"I know that you're going to want some sleep..." he trailed off, and we both laughed. Insomniac jokes were pretty funny when you had given up hope on fixing it.

We reached the line and began getting our normal food, a sandwich for him, a coffee for me, and two jello cups. One of the first things Dave had told me when he was introducing me to the hospital was the pudding. Not only did they have more flavors than most, it was actually well-made. Mine for the night was Pumpkin Spice. I remembered from the med chart that Charlie didn't have any food or med allergies, so I asked for two.

After paying for our cheap food, I sipped on my coffee for a little at a table near the gift shop while David looked over his test results for another one of his patients, and then I stood up, taking the elevator back up. I said my goodbyes at the elevator, as the clock behind him said 6 o'clock, and it took Dave 45 minutes to get home at the earliest.

"Have a good night, Miles," he called as the door shut. The relaxing thrum of the elevator was interrupted a floor up, when someone on a gurney was being wheeled from the burn unit to surgery. The man being wheeled had burns up and down his entire body, especially around his stomach and face. I had to look away from the glistening skin, my own skin tingling.

Two floors later, he was rushed out and into surgery, and I relaxed against the wall. Finally the bell rang for the cancer ward and I got out, walking around the counter, greeting Janice, who gave a flirty wave my direction.

Janice had been wanting me to ask her out for ages, but I'd never seen the woman as sexually appealing. She was attractive, and could probably get most men to do her, but not this man, as this man was vying for the attentions of similar men. And one or two genderlly ambiguous people.

I pushed open 508 to find Charlie sitting up and watching Youtube. Two British boys were playing Five Nights At Freddy's, and one of them was discussing the cost of security cameras when a jumpscare got them both, and the one who was talking fell out of his chair. Charlie began laughing, as the other boy, who was probably the speaker's boyfriend, began to jokingly shame him for falling.

I shifted my attention away from the video, my eyes scanning Charlie's face. He had a soft smile, his wide eyes watching the screen intently, happily. He was happy. In the background, I could hear the video ending, the two boys signing off to go make-out or something, but I was too busy watching Charlie to process that, and when Charlie looked up, he screamed, scaring me, so I screamed and almost spilled my coffee and jello and we just sat there screaming for a second before we stopped.

"Sorry," I said, my heart sort of slowing from "Holy hell, I'm scared" to "Why does he have to be cute? Why couldn't he be an 80 year old woman with a bad attitude?"

"Why were you standing there like that?"

"Sorry, you were just so into your video and I didn't want to interrupt you."

"Next time, interrupt me. I'd rather be slightly upset about being interrupted during my Dan and Phil time than given a heart attack by the person who's supposed to be keeping me alive."

"Sorry." I said. I remembered why I came up here. "I thought you might want some jello." I held out the small cup, and smiled at him, hoping he'd take it.

"What flavor is it," he asked, looking at the neon orangeness like it was radioactive.

"Pumpkin Spice, to get into the fall spirit."

He watch me carefully as he took the cup. Our fingers brushed and I literally thought my heart was going to spring out of my chest.

"You didn't poison it or put sleeping pills in it, did you?"

I put my hands up in surrender. "Cross my heart and hope to die."

"Burn my lungs and curse my eyes."

Once again, it took me a second, but I caught it. "Was that a-- Did you just reference Panic! At the Disco?"

He shrugged, giving a sneaky little smile. "Maybe I did," he said, using the plastic spoon to stir the pudding.

"I cannot believe you just said that. Now I need to go home and listen to Nicotine on repeat," I made like I was going to leave, when he said, "No need, I've got it on my phone."

He held up his phone, and Nicotine began blasting through the room.

"Cross my heart and hope to die," we both began singing, when we made eye contact and began laughing. I pulled a chair next to the bed and we began talking about Panic and a bunch of other bands that we secretly liked. When we took a break, I realized it was already 1 am. Thank goodness class had been cancelled for the night, or else I would have been screwed.

"You should get to bed," I told him, standing up.

"You should too." I chuckled at that.

"I'll be outside the door. Holler if you need me," I told him, and turned off the lights as I left.

As soon as I was outside the room, I took a break to just breathe. Dear God and everything holy, I should not have been assigned to watch him. Because, odds are, he is not, and will never be, interested in me.