transient.

chapter 6: bye, for now.

"Finally! Being discharged feels great right?" Eddy exclaimed happily as he changed the shoulder cuff for a new one he just probably ran around the hospital to get. Brett couldn't help but laugh, "Yeah, but not being able to move this arm for the next week will be tragic."

Eddy responded with the usual "drama queen" comment as he continued organising the discharge documents for Brett. "You'll be back in the hospital for rehabilitation weekly for 9 weeks at the clinic downstairs, and you'll have a review with the doctor after 3, 6 and 9 weeks. You probably can start to play again by week 9." Eddy circled the relevant discharge advice, and wrote down the dates he booked the clinic appointments for. "You don't really have much medication, just the standard pain stuff and the remaining 4 days of antibiotics. Remember to take them on time, and NO COFFEE, alright?" Eddy stressed on the no coffee part, smiling as he recalled the memory of Brett following him to break. He circled the frequency of the medication, and wrote down the indications on the label. Putting everything in a bag, and ensuring Brett had everything packed, it was time for Eddy to do the deed - cutting the hospital wristband and actualising the discharge.

Snip. The plastic wristband fell into Eddy's hand. He kept the scissors, and offered it for Brett to keep - it was something he did for every patient. He'd even write their hospitalisation date for them. Brett laughed, saying something along the lines of "give it to me after you see me during my recital."

Transient. Transient. Transient.

Brett wanted to prolong this moment - he wasn't sure if he'd see Eddy again. Heck, he wasn't sure if he could even play the violin again. But when Eddy pulled him in for an awkward hug, avoiding the shoulder cuff, and told him once again, that everything would be fine, and that he had to give himself time, and that he had faith in him, Brett knew that he'd try his best to do well again. Just like he'd done before.

Eddy watched Brett leave from the corridors, a scene he had experienced with many patients, and a scene he'll never get used to, he felt a sense of satisfaction that he had done his best for yet another patient, but he'd missed the friendship they'd forged throughout his hospitalisation. He wrote the date of Brett's hospitalisation on the back of the tag, and used a black marker to draw over the identification number, and the barcode, so that the name was his only identifier. He kept it in his locker.

Carrying his violin and sheet music home that day had him high on emotions, and he played it out to Mozart 4. Everyone was right - being married to your work was toxic, but what was passion without emotion?

He fell asleep to the thought of Transient. Transient. Transient.

This too shall pass, emotions did always dull with time. 

A/N: thank you for all the kind comments so far! hopefully my writing will stay consistent till the end :')