Chapter 4

It was another busy day at Serpentine Medical Center.

Yves pushed open the door of the patient he needed to check on, but he paused in the doorway at the sight of the sturdy-built man standing by the foot of the patient’s bed. He bowed slightly to acknowledge him, and at the firm nod he received, he closed the door as silently as he could before he ventured inside.

The room looked more like a normal teenage boy’s room than a hospital room if it were not for the several medical apparatuses attached to the patient’s body. To the far left it had a shelf filled with beloved things that belonged to the director’s son. There was also a study table that was never used for its purpose, but Yves used it sometimes to write his reports.

“Good afternoon, Director Alonzo,” Yves greeted, then patted the patient’s arm lightly, greeting him as well, as if he were awake. “Hi, Glenn. I’m here again to take your blood pressure.”

“You came later than usual today. Where were you, Yves?”

“I was on a coffee break. Did something happen?”

“No, I’m just asking. I didn’t see you in the nurses’ station when I passed by, so I thought you might be here.” Director Alonzo held his gaze, a fire dancing in his russet eyes. “But you’re not.”

Yves’ stomach tingled, his cheeks burning at the stare, so he broke their eye contact and inserted the cuff on Glenn’s limp arm until it sat an inch above his elbow. He was using an automatic blood pressure machine, which didn’t give him enough excuse to keep himself busy, so he went to grab the chair at the study table.

“Don’t worry,” Yves said as he waited for the results. “I usually check on my patients before I go out, and I have Emily cover for me while I’m gone, so you have nothing to worry about. There are no major changes, but I think he’s doing better each day.”

A reply came in the form of a grunt, followed by an awkward silence, and then the monitor showed Glenn’s blood pressure.

“One hundred ten over sixty. A little lower compared to when I checked earlier, but still normal.” Yves went to the desk to record the data and paused.

The framed photos on top of the desk glinted against the room’s light. They were taken when the director’s late wife was still alive, his son active and awake by then. The director’s younger self was smiling in most of the photos, a smile that seemed to have disappeared when his perfect family crumbled after the accident.

Tiny pins of sadness prickled at his heart. He felt sorry for him. If only there was something he could do to lessen the burden. It was also part of the nurse’s duty to give emotional support to the family, right? Yves grabbed the chair and gave it to the older man.

Instead of taking a seat, Director Alonzo pulled his hand from the pocket of his white coat and then patted Yves on the shoulder. The touch lingered, and Yves would have wanted it to stay there, but the older man already walked towards the door.

“Director,” Yves called, and the heavy footsteps halted, a curious glance thrown at him. He wanted him to stay, but it was impertinent to wish that he would, so he just smiled. “He’ll wake up. I don’t know when, but I’m sure he will.”

A tiny smile graced the always frowning lips of the man. “Of course he will. He’s in your care, after all.”

At the soft click of the lock, Yves collapsed on the chair, his heart going into overdrive. He knew it was silly, but when the person he admired so much regarded him like that, it felt like his chest would burst into hundreds of butterflies.

His moment of joy ceased, however, when he glanced at the unconscious young man on the bed. Yves composed himself, his gloved hands resting above the bony knuckles. “Sorry, Glenn. Please don’t hate me for having a little crush on your dad. I’m just trying to entertain myself.”

As usual, he received no response from the boy.

Well, technically, Glenn Alonzo was no longer a boy. He may have been in his teens when he got into an accident with his mom, but three years in a comatose state didn’t stop him from aging. He had already turned nineteen this year. His delicate features resembled his mother mostly, but he still had a hint of likeness with his father. He was equally handsome as him or more, if not for the sorry state he was in.

“I hope you wake up soon. Your dad would be glad if you did.”

“Who is it that you like, really? The father or the son?”

Yves sucked in a deep breath, shut his eyes momentarily before he turned to the owner of the voice with an icy glare. “Tim, get out. You’re not allowed here.”

“I’m also an employee of this hospital, you know. Well, the main hospital, at least.”

“That doesn’t make it okay for you to pop in here whenever you want, especially not when you don’t have a dead body to retrieve.”

“How sure are you?”

“What?”

Timothy leaned his weight against the doorframe. “How sure are you that I don’t have a body to retrieve today?”

“Did someone just—?” Yves gasped, letting go of Glenn’s hand to check his pager. He shot up and rushed towards the door. “But I wasn’t notified at all. Who was it?”

“No one,” Timothy said, putting a hand to his chest. “Nobody died. Yet.”

Yves’ jaw clenched, his glare magnifying through the lenses of his prescriptive glasses. “You are not being funny, Timothy.”

“I wasn’t trying to.”

Yves swatted the hand on his chest. “Get out. This isn’t the time for your dark humor.”

“Wow, all that rage. Who crawled up your ass today and died, Yveybs?”

“You’re going to leave or not?”

Timothy rolled his eyes, his fingers combing through the wavy tresses he let loose for today. “Fine. I’m just here for my hair tie, anyway.” He held out his palm. “Give it back.”

“I don’t have it. I’ve thrown it away.”

“You wouldn’t do that.”

“How sure are you?” Yves mimicked his earlier question.

Timothy only smiled. “As sure as my feelings for you.”

“Ha-ha. Funny.” Yves inserted a hand into his pocket and took out the hair tie. But he didn’t return it. He slipped it to his wrist like a bracelet and eyed Timothy with his hair down. “I think your look for today suits you better.”

“Do you want me to leave or not?”

“Well—”

Beep. Beep.

Yves froze, his head turning at the alarming sound of the heart monitor behind him. A chill ran down his spine upon seeing the flicker of a single white butterfly above Glenn’s head as if it was about to metamorphose.

“You should call in code blue,” Timothy said, stepping into the room. “It’s cardiac arrest.”

BEEP!

His body moved. Yves reminded himself to stay calm as he paged for support while assessing the unconscious young man’s condition; his heart almost synchronized with the continuous beep of the heart monitor. Only his heart rate was skyrocketing, while the other was on a decline.

Yves lowered the bed and performed compressions immediately, his frantic eyes meeting Timothy on the other side of the bed. They were both in the medical field. Though the other had a completely different expertise, he could still perform CPR, couldn’t he?

“Want me to take over?” Timothy asked.

Yves kept pumping, his eyeglasses slipping out. “Yes, please.”

“I haven’t done this in a while, but okay. On the count of three.” Timothy switched with Yves on performing compressions on Glenn’s chest. “You’ve called in your team, right?”

“Of course,” Yves answered, just as the right people started filling the room. He explained the situation immediately, but before another nurse took over Timothy’s position, Glenn flatlined.