Both of their eyes are closed

part 14

The hospital is cool compared to the hot afternoon air. You go strait to the elevator this time, and at the third floor desk, all you had to say was Luke's name. The nurse recognised you and took you to the I.C.U.

You feel bad that the boys can't come see him. But it's probably harder to convince her that all of them are his brothers.

This time, the nurse sparks up a conversation on your walk through the halls.

"So how far along are you?" she asks.

"Hmm?" Her question doesn't quite register at first.

"How far along are you with your pregnancy?" she evaluates.

"Oh, uh about four months." You're surprised that she notices through your loose clothing. But then again she is a nurse.

"Wow, really? Only four? You've got a lot of bump on you for only for." she waits for a response. You don't know anyone who has been pregnant recently.

"Oh, really?" is all you can think to say.

"Yeah, have you had a ultrasound?"

"Um yeah but my friend was the one who looked at the screen, we wanted her to make it a surprise for when I'm six months along,"

"Hmm," she says with an almost sly looking grin.

She opens the door to the I.C.U. then immediately heads back to her desk. You watch her until she turns the corner, then turn your attention to the desk in the center of the room. It's your turn to do the talking.

You walk up to the desk and wait for the nurse to look up from her paperwork. It reminds you of this morning.

After she finishes writing out something she looks up at you with a gentle smile. "Hello," she says in a sweet voice. The stereotypical nurse, in movies and such, tends to be rude and annoying, but most of the nurses here are sweet and quiet and very very patient. I guess they have to be, what with all of the sick and hurting people coming through the doors.

"Ms. Hemmings?" You have to think for a second, then nod your head. "You're all set, same curtain," she says with a smile.

It would be strange to be a nurse. You don't think you could ever get used to seeing people in pain, or seeing their families in pain. Or get used to all of the awful sights full of blood and who knows what else. Smiling even though someone in the room could be dying.

You gather yourself before opening the curtain. Inside you find a man standing by Luke's bed, messing with one of the bags that is connected to his arm.

"Oh hello," he says. "I'll be out of your way in just a minute here." He fiddles with the bag again and then turns to you with an extended hand. You shake it as he introduces himself. "I'm Dr. Wentz. I've been in charge of Mr. Hemmings here."

"Y/N," you say. "Hemmings," you add. "So how is he doing?"

"Well, he's still pretty unstable. He can't breathe for himself and his blood pressure is low." You bite you lip and wait to see if the doctor continues. "But..." there is a spark of hope in you with that one single word. "He is doing better than when he first arrived here."

"Better how?"

"Well there's less beeping, which means less machines going off, and less problems happening inside of him. Internal bleeding has stopped and the pills have been pumped from his stomach."

The short conversation with this doctor has been the highlight of your week so far. He's getting better. He's still not great, but better, and better is good.

"Thank you," you say. Dr. Wentz stands and sets his hand on your shoulder as he exits and closes the curtain around you and Luke.