I not only see him as a teammate, he’s also my friend. Friends don’t give up on each other. If he doesn’t have the strength to face this fight, I’ll be right beside him to carry him along until he does.
A nurse escorts me back to recovery when I’m ready, and what I see isn't what I expect. Medical dramas I've watched on television have showcased patients connected to all sorts of tubes and wires depending on their diagnosis. Aro has an IV in, a pulse ox reader on his finger and that’s it. I do my best not to look down at the void under the covers because crying for his loss won’t help at all.
I wasn't prepared for a hospital stay, but thankfully Kincaid, or more likely Emmalyn or Misty, packed a bag for me. Once Aro is in his private room, I'll have a chance to take a shower. But right now, I sit by his bedside, not wasting a second to reach out and grab his hand.
He jerks at the contact, his eyes slowly opening. He gives me one quick glance, but closes his eyes again. I can open my mouth and explain that I understand through experience working with injured veterans, the litany of emotions that he's going through right now. But I don't think that they would be welcome. He's not the type that's going to feed off of positive words or affirmations, so I give his hand another little squeeze, assuring him that I'm here whenever he's ready to talk.
All the guys at Cerberus avoided me at the clubhouse. They treated me as if I had something contagious. I learned long ago not to let it affect me because strong men like Aro and every other person on the Cerberus team aren't fond of talking about their feelings.
In the field, they saw me as as capable as any other Cerberus member, but at home, when things were calm, when there was an opportunity for me to be their sounding board, they scattered. They didn't want me in their head. They didn't want to be put in a situation where they believed I was analyzing their every move. And I understand it. Therapy is hard. Working through problems you may have, even harder. I have no doubt Aro feels exactly the same way right now.
My phone rings and I answer it quickly. Ugly looks worried on the camera screen. “He's fine and in recovery,” I explain.
“I want to talk to him,” Ugly insists.
I look over at Aro to find his eyes on mine. I angle the phone in his direction, but he shakes his head, a clear refusal to speak to his friend.
“He's not up for talking right now,” I explained to Ugly. “Maybe in a couple of days.”
Ugly doesn't argue, and I know it's because he's aware that Aro is in the room and can hear him.
“I'll call back,” he says and hangs up before I can respond.
It doesn't take long before Aro falls back asleep, not even waking when the nurse comes in to check his surgery site and vitals.
I can easily read a book on my phone or play a game to keep me busy, but it doesn't feel right.
So I sit and watch him, ready to help him if any need should arise.
Chapter 6
Aro
I hate that Slick is here, witnessing me nod my head as if I'm a person in the middle of a manic episode. The doctor continues to explain what was done and what I need to do to ensure the fastest recovery.
I started out by looking at him, showing him the highest level of respect that I could manage after what I've been through, but my eyes started to cross. It's been days since my surgery but time no longer happens in a chronological fashion like it has in the past. I know it's the combination of the meds I'm given that help me handle the pain.
But I also feel like it's disbelief. Like I've managed to convince myself this is all a dream, so paying attention to the finer details of every conversation isn't necessary.
Deep inside, I know it's not a dream but I'm also not exactly in the right headspace to face my new reality. I've been told more than once by other soldiers injured in the line of duty that they weren't meant to come home.
I don't want to die. I don't feel suicidal but I also don't want to be in the position that I'm in right now.
“Wound care and changing out the bandage twice a day until it's fully healed is of the utmost importance,” the doctor explains. “I'll send one of the nurses in this afternoon to show you how to do that. Keeping things as sterile as humanly possible is a must.”