Fix My Feet When They're Stumblin'

Chapter 35

     "Hey, buddy."

     Late in the afternoon, just as the sun began to descend in the sky outside the hospital, the door to Brandon's room opened a crack and a light brown head of curls peeked around the corner, Dave's expression uncharacteristically nervous, his eyes darting around the dim room.

     "Sorry, I'm sure you'd rather see your kids or something - it's just that Mark and I are leaving sooooon...oh." The guitarist trailed off as he noticed that Brandon was waving him inside, smiling, rendering his apology unnecessary. Followed by a dark-haired nurse who lurked near the doorway, he approached his bandmate's bedside sheepishly, scuffing the floor with his shoe as he came to a halt.

     "Uh...how're you feeling?" Dave asked, his question flat and half-hearted as though he knew it wasn't the best thing to ask, but couldn't think of anything more suitable.

     Brandon smiled slightly and shrugged. "C-could be worse." He hesitated and dropped his gaze to his knees, suddenly uncomfortable. Brandon fiddled with the edge of his blanket anxiously, then took a deep breath. "D-Dave - I'm sorry you had to be...s-stuck here for a while. I d-didn't...I didn't mean to...take you away from your son. I'm sorry."

     Dave scoffed, running a hand through his wild curls. "Aww, Brandon, don't be ridiculous. I wouldn't just not come and check on you - come on! He can handle a week and a half without me. Apparently you and Ronnie need a hiking chaperone, though," he teased, laughter bubbling in his voice.

     Brandon grimaced, a painful twinge in his heart at the reminder. "We won't be...won't be hiking again...n-not for a long time."

     "Ah, shit, I'm sorry, I didn't mean - "

     "It's okay...it's okay." Brandon raised his hand to cut him off - Dave's eyes fixed on the obvious tremor in his hand, and he swallowed hard at the sight. Fighting a sudden rush of self-consciousness, Brandon quickly lowered his arm and tucked his hand protectively behind his other arm's sling, wishing fervently that he could just disappear. Shit. How do I...? 'Sorry, Dave, we haven't seen each other in ages and I'm a useless freak now'?

     Dave cleared his throat, shuffling his weight from foot to foot at the end of the bed. "I...um, I heard maybe all...this stuff - " he waved his hand vaguely at Brandon " - might all...go away? Eventually, I mean...you know. That would be good."

     "Yeah. I guess...I'm t-trying to...not to...trying n-not to think about it," Brandon admitted quietly, biting his lip and staring at his hand, hidden from Dave but burning holes in his own eyes, his vision suddenly swimming. Useless.

     "Oh, that's probably good, in case - shit, I'm sorry, what the fuck am I saying? I'm sorry, I don't...I don't know..." Brandon glanced up at Dave and noticed that he looked vaguely ill, like he wished the earth would swallow him up. Ha. Me too, Dave.

     Brandon shrugged, sighing softly. "It's okay. It's n-not...it's not...um...it's hard for everyone. It's weird. Thanks for c-coming to...stay with everyone. And for - for saying goodbye."

     "Yeah, of course! I'm, um...I'm glad you're...okay. I mean, you know..." His bandmate's mortified expression might've been funny if Brandon had been in a different mood - Dave was clearly in agony, tripping over himself in awkward attempts to be comforting but...not quite succeeding.

     I wouldn't do much better in his place, though, he mused, his lips twitching, and then he giggled as Dave's expression melted in obvious relief at the tiny smile on his face - he'd clearly been afraid of offending him. Maybe I should put him out of his misery. "Thanks, Dave. And thanks f-for...coming, it's nice to s-see you...but don't - I d-don't want to keep you f-from your flight..."