The Psychic That Had A Brother

Loss

Juliet’s POV:

I bump into Maddie at the hospital entrance.

“Oh, hi Juliet,” she says.

“Hi Maddie. Shawn alright?” I ask her. I was at work all day.

“He had a bad headache earlier, he has only woken up once since. He is asleep right now,” she informs. We say goodbye then head different ways. I take the elevator to the fifth floor. When I get to Shawn’s room the door open, I welcome myself in. I shut the door behind me, to buffer out the loudness and business of the hallway. I sit in a chair next to Shawn’s bed. His eyes open slightly. I rest my hand on top of his, he looks over at me, without moving his head.

“You alright?” I ask. I sit on the bed, careful not to hit his side.

“My head still hurts, but not as bad as it did,” he answers. He has loose strands of hair stuck to his forehead, I wipe them away. I feel that his forehead is warm, I look up at the monitor, his temperature is 102. He starts to sit up, he points at the pail. I bring it over to him and he throws up again. When he’s finally done, I place the pail on the counter. I return to my chair. He is resting back against the bed again. There is a knock on the door, then the doctor walks in.

“Hello Ms. O’Hara,” he says. I just nod, too tired to say much.

“How’s he doing?” he asks me. At first I wonder why he’s asking me, I then notice that Shawn has his eyes closed. I hide a grin.

“Well, his temperature is 102,” I inform him. He looks at the monitor and frowns.

“He hasn’t eaten anything since he’s been here,” he mumbles. I frown this time. He writes some more stuff down then walks back into the hallway.

“He’s gone Shawn,” I tell him. He smiles and opens his eyes.

“I can’t believe he fell for it,” he says. I smile.

“What time is it?” he asks.

“Nine-thirty,” I answer.

“When can I leave?” Shawn questions.

“If you had been ‘awake’ you could have asked him,” I reply with a smirk. He smiles in return. His smile suddenly vanishes and is replaced by a grimace.

“What’s wrong?” I ask him, worried.

“Nothing, just my head and side,” he answers, trying to hide his pain. Shawn closes his eyes groans. So much for leaving anytime soon. I sit on the bed, being careful not to hit his side or move the bed. He has his arm rapped tightly around his midsection. He groans again, bringing both hands up to his face. He leans forward, wincing at the pain in his side. He suddenly starts falling forward, I catch him quickly, trying to avoid more pain. I rest his head on my shoulder, to keep him from leaning over again. I wrap him in my arms to support him, his arms just hang loosely at his sides. He buries his face in my hair.

“It’s your side and head?” I ask.

“Mostly head,” he replies. I keep him close to me. We stay that way, not moving. I notice that the beeping on his monitor have slowed. I put him back to where he was earlier, he’s asleep. I notice his rope burns on his neck. He looks even more pale than last night, I frown at the loss of progress. I really hope he gets better soon. I head home, tired. When I get home I take a shower and go to bed. I fall asleep worrying about Shawn.

I open my eyes and look around, I’m at the hospital. Odd, I don’t remember coming here. I head to Shawn’s room, he looks even worse than he did last night. His skin is extremely pale. He opens his eyes to look at me, his eyes are dark.