“Here you guys go,” he smiles. “A fresh batch of bat piss for everyone.”
I chuckle, and look at him gratefully.
“What happened here?”
He glances over at Fynn, but before I can tell him anything a nurse walks over to us.
“Miss Holloway?” She smiles at me cordially, bringing some more of that painful whiteness with her.
She has a slick ponytail, and a very minimum amount of makeup. Still, she looks refreshed. Definitely not like someone who works in a hospital, and who we just caught on night shift.
“Yes?” I turn to face her, my heart trembling with fear at what she is about to tell me.
“Your father has been taken care of,” she starts slowly, accentuating every word, like it’s something she has rehearsed for a play. In a way, she has. “He is in the special care unit on the third floor – “
“Can I see him?” I interrupt her, but she remains calm and polite.
“I’m afraid that’s impossible tonight. The doctor needed to put him into an induced coma. This was necessary for the purposes of reaching a level of sedation that is referred to as burst suppression.”
She keeps talking like a teacher explaining a tough math problem to her students for the third time in a row. Still with a soft smile on her face and still with the same level of patience.
“There has been significant swelling in the brain, which results in painful pressure and damage of the brain tissue. Your father’s brain needs to rest, so that his entire body may recover and so that his brain swelling reduces. His brain is fully sedated for a few seconds, then it forces itself into a few seconds of activity bursts. His brain is kept active, but at the same time, these periods of rest are crucial for his healing process.”
“When will he wake up?”
“That depends on the speed of his recovery,” she explains. “We can’t give any estimates. It can be anywhere from a few days to a few months. Sometimes, it’s even years.”
“Years?”
“Yes, I’m sorry,” she speaks, pressing her thin lips together, expressing regret.
“Can I just see him? I won’t talk to him. Just through the glass,” I plead.
The nurse’s lips part, probably in an effort to find a polite way to refuse my request, but she sees the tears in my eyes. She hears the pain in my voice.
“Just through the window,” she finally agrees. “And, just for a few seconds.”
“Of course,” I nod quickly. “Will you guys wait for me here?”
Fynn and Anderson nod, as I wave a little awkwardly, allowing the nurse to lead me to the third floor. While riding the elevator, she turns to me.
“You’re lucky. You brought him in just in time.”
Those words hit me like a ton of bricks. I was this close to losing him. I’m still close, but I won’t let go. I’ll hold on til the very last breath in my body.
“Also, I haven’t mentioned it, but I shall need to report this to the police. Gunshot wounds are always reported.”
“Those two men with me are police officers,” I explain, as the door pings and opens up for us, letting us out.
“Then, they can sort it out with the officer on duty,” she nods.
“Of course,” I smile. “We have nothing to hide.”
She looks at me, as if she’s trying to find out if I’m lying or not. Her gaze is long and steady. I wonder how many patients she saw dying. Did she see something in their eyes? Did she see the window to their soul?
She turns away without another word, and leads me to the room at the end of a quiet, and much less busy hallway. She stops in front of a small, rectangular window.
“This is your father’s room.”