Book 4: Remembering Scars {BoyxBoy}

Chapter 22

Sam rarely left the chair that was sitting beside Chris' hospital bed, unless he had to use the bathroom, which didn't take him far as there was a small restroom right there in the room. Jack or Rita would have to pry him up to get him to walk around or eat, which he hated. He hated leaving the room, leaving Chris. He still had work, though, and he could only skip so many days, but even at work his mind was stuck on Chris. Then again, it usually was, but it was different now, because he was awake.

Awake.

He still couldn't really believe it. Chris was awake, after three years. They were going to pull the plug, they were so close to letting him slip after hanging on for so damn long. Something woke him up.

Marin explained later that when he looked over Chris' brain function before he woke up, he noticed a spike, so close to consciousness that he thought he was imagining things, but he took a chance, seeing as he really had nothing to lose, and pumped a high dose of adrenaline straight to Chris' blood. That's what woke him up, but it was unclear why his brain function had spiked so suddenly from comatose to near consciousness.

Just thinking about it usually had Sam in tears. It was a miracle, a second chance, and he was determined not to screw up this time. Chris probably noticed, hell, everyone noticed, how close Sam was staying, how protective he was. He'd even gone so far as to glare at Dylan and Kitty if they got a little too close to the scar on Chris' head. He didn't want anyone to touch it, to see it, he didn't even want Chris to look at it or feel it, but he didn't have a say in that.

They understood, of course, but it could get tiresome when Sam refused to move even an inch. The only time he left the room was when he went with Chris to his physical therapy sessions, and the only time he left the hospital itself was when he had work. Otherwise he was sitting loyally in that chair, arms folded, eyes faraway, a silent and steady guard while Chris was stuck in bed.

His favorite time was when Chris was asleep. It gave Sam a chance to play with his hair like he used to, like he always did, stroking his fingers through the thick red locks so his face was in full view. Even with everything Chris had gone through, three years in a coma, Sam still thought he was gorgeous. True, in reality he kind of looked like shit, his face a grayish color and the skin sinking due to lack of substantial nutrition, but Sam was adamant about his eating, so in a few weeks Chris was starting to fill out a bit more, and looked a bit more like himself.

"So I think by now we all know that look," Sam tensed up, nearly dropping his books as his head whipped to the side to see Izzy standing with that evil cat in her arms, "You're thinking about your lover, hm?"

Sam hated the blush, but he didn't bother denying it as he turned to the shelf and started slipping the books into the correct placement, "Shouldn't you be managing finance or something?"

"Who do I look like to you, Einstein? Sabine is working those books for me. I was helping the new girl, but Cleo popped up and said she'd take over, so now I'm just wandering," she paused, "Why are you asking me questions, this is my store, I do what I want."

Sam snorted and turned as he set the last book in its place, eyeing his boss, "You act like a child."

"What's your point?"

"I'm surprised you still own the place. Without Sabine and Amy you'd be bankrupt."

"That is so mean!" Izzy whined, "I could fire you, you know!"

"You've had so many chances for that," Sam countered, "You're not gonna fire me, you like me too much."

"Well, you're cute, so you bring in customers."

"This isn't a host club."

"Oh, but it could be!" Izzy beamed, "A book host club! I could get everyone to wear maids outfits and cute dresses!"