Utterly Forgettable | MM Romance | Complete

Five: Why Didn't You Come To Me?

Josh had lost count of how many coffees he'd gotten from the vending machine over the previous fifteen hours; probably enough to earn him his own trip to the hospital if he kept at it much longer. Emery had flat out refused his offer to accompany him, and trying to talk Mark into giving him any news of Emery's state was akin to hitting a brick wall head-first — if brick walls were prone to giving lectures on doctor-patient confidentiality.

He swirled his cold coffee in its tiny plastic cup. Nothing but coffee on an empty stomach was beginning to make him feel queasy. Despite knowing it wouldn't help, he texted Mark for news; his texting app told him it was the 29th time, a string unbroken by any hint of a reply. The man's shift had ended hours ago — was it too much to ask for, that he at least acknowledge Josh's texts?

The outside doors opened with an abrupt sound, letting through a bloodied figure in a gurney being driven at breakneck speed by a harried-looking paramedic.

"Great," someone else muttered, "another accident. That'll be at least another two hours that they'll make us wait."

Eyes on his phone, so he wouldn't be tempted to look for the owner of the voice, Josh bit his tongue to keep from mentioning that yes, surely people had accidents on purpose to inconvenience those already in the ER for less severe situations. Some people's lack of empathy set his nerves on edge, and said nerves really didn't need any encouragement at the moment.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when a hand landed on his shoulder. Mark, still wearing his hospital coat. "Mark? What are you doing here? I thought you'd be home by now."

"Without telling you I was leaving?" The valiant effort Mark made not to roll his eyes at Josh in his workplace nearly had Josh laughing. "I'll insult you later. I traded shifts with a colleague of mine, to be able to follow through on the— patient."

Barely a hitch before steamrolling over 'deadweight' right into 'patient'. He really was a stickler for the right thing in the right context. But that was beside the point — Josh was far too relieved to know Mark was keeping an eye on Emery's case to tease him right now. "Thanks, Mark. Really." He turned hopeful eyes onto his best friend's. "How's he doing?"

"I can tell you how he's not doing — he's not become mentally incompetent since being admitted, and a court hasn't appointed you as his legal guardian as far as I've been told."

"Ass. So you came out here just to tell me you're not telling me anything?"

"I came out here because I figured you'd be too caffeinated to stop texting. How many of those have you had?"

"Um..."

Mark threw his hands in the air before confiscating Josh's plastic cup. "You don't even know? No more coffee for you. Go eat an apple or something." His phone beeped and he glanced at it. "And stop texting me. I have to go now, but I'll try to come out here to check in on you when I can."

#

Another four hours came and went before Mark came to fetch him from the waiting room with a brisk, professional countenance that gave nothing away. Emery wanted to talk to him, which Josh could only see as an improvement.

For a moment Josh felt relieved.

Then Mark instructed him to put on a mask covering his nose and mouth, as well as surgical gloves, a plastic apron, goggles, and a cap, and took him to what he called a negative pressure room. Whatever was wrong with Emery it wasn't the simple pneumonia Josh had imagined.

Somehow, even though Josh had seen what the streets had done to Emery — had seen the unnatural thinness, the bruises, the halting steps —, he hadn't been prepared for the impact of seeing Emery in that hospital bed, his shaved head turned towards the glass window that overlooked the nurses' station. Sitting amidst a cacophony of beeping sounds, with a myriad of wires and IV lines attached to him in various manners, Emery was a speck of humanity in a vast sea of artificial entrapments. It underscored his frailty in a way that had Josh's guts twisting in fear. What was the diagnosis that had him asking to talk to Josh?