Reaction || Malum ||

29

Calum's POV

Michael returned from surgery at about 4am. Luke was asleep in the chair next to be but awoke with a start when the doctor came to talk to us. I couldn't really focus on what Dr. Reynolds was saying and it was exhausting to do so. Overall, I think he said Michael did fine and is in some sort of coma and could wake up in the next 48 hours. I guess now we wait. I hate waiting. Luke and I stumbled like zombies into Michael's official room to see him for ourselves. Still the same, just a little less torn up. His wounds had been tended to but the wires and tubes remained. Soft beeping filled the painful silence as Luke and I inched closer to the bed. My heart was still in my throat as I moved closer and closer to Michael. Luke reached his side first and took a seat in the chair next to the bed. I watched as he tried to still keeping himself together. Luke is being ridiculously strong right now where as I can't stop my tears for less than five minutes.

"Hey Mikey." Luke's soft voice said with a crack as he gently rubbed Michael's shoulder.

My feet were weighted. Heavy, unable to move, I just stood in the doorway listening the whooshing and beeping. Luke smiled sadly at Michael and I swore I saw a tear escape his eye but he wiped it away as quickly as it appeared. I gulped and moved to sit in the chair opposite but I was afraid to touch Michael. Just like a porcelain doll I was worried that with the slightest touch he'd shatter at my fingertips.

"You're gonna be okay Mikey, right? You're gonna be okay?" Luke asked with his voice betraying him. He had held himself together long enough and when he buried his face into the sheets of the bed to sob, he had cracked.

His shoulders shook as tiny cries and pleas escaped his lips. I took a deep breath to gather my own self before I moved around the bed to comfort Luke. I touched his back soothingly and he pulled himself away from the bed to squeeze me tightly. He continued to sob as hot tears soaked through my shirt and I did my best to be his comfort. If Michael...died, Luke would be all I had anymore. We would have to be strong for each other, now and if push came to shove.

"He'll be fine." I croaked out in a small voice hardly believing myself.

Truth is, I had no idea.

I had no earthly idea whether Michael was gonna pull through or if we were going to be burying our friend. As harsh as that may sound, it could be reality. All I can do now is hope and pray that Michael won't leave me and I won't be responsible for this. Luke finally calmed himself and we returned to our respective seats to wait for Michael to wake up.

"The," Luke started but swallowed hard to gather himself. "The doctor said if we talk to him, it could help with him waking up." Luke finished with blue eyes burning through me. I nodded but honestly I thought I was a silly idea so I remained quiet. I just took hold of Michael's hand, traced my thumb over his milky skin, and remained silent.

I remained silent as the beeps and whooshes continued, and as Luke rambled on to a still unconscious Michael. I kept quiet just like I had when I first met Michael. When he'd talk and ramble on while I would just memorize the way his voice felt in my chest. I remained silent like I did when he'd giggle obnoxiously about something or when he'd tell lame jokes. I remained quiet just to hear any signs that Michael remained who he was. Michael was never meant to be silenced like this. Even after Luke fell asleep I remained quiet, listening for anything at all.

With my hand still grasping Michael's, I rested my chin atop our hands and watched as the ventilator helped Michael breathe. I memorized every line, hair and freckle that scattered across his face and arms. His nose, his lips and his ears, just every detail I could remember just in case. I tried to engrain the gorgeous green of his eyes that were now hidden under his heavy eyelids. My free fingers traced lines against the skin of his arms just savoring the feeling if his skin. I let myself smile at how beautiful Michael was even in such a horrible state of being.