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Recovery
Issac slept for the better part of five days. Felinus would admit that he had extended that with the use of the morphine pump but he would also stand by that decision as Issac always looked pained and afraid every time, reaching immediately for the IVs or tubes before he’d even attempted to open his eyes. The ER doctor, obviously, didn’t remain Issac’s doctor once he was moved and the new one, an older man, seemed content to let Issac sleep it off while they pumped him full of nutrition and whatever else through a tube they placed in his stomach.
Felinus didn’t like that tube. Najjar had mentioned that it was a possible treatment option, but, it wasn’t something that would be needed if Issac showed weight gain at his first follow-up and continued to show it moving forward. Dr. White said that Issac had gained weight in the week he had been with Felinus, but since Issac was too out of it to eat on his own, they would use the tube so he wouldn’t lose what little he gained. It made sense but, to Felinus, it was one more place that he had failed Issac and one more foreign object that he had to stop those wandering fingers from pulling out.
He didn’t sleep at all that first day, staying up through the day and night to make sure every time Issac stirred he could reassure him that he was still right there and wasn’t going anywhere. He felt his heart break with each weak call of his name and plea for him to stay. They’d been in the new room for an hour when Brutus, rather pointedly, texted him in “The Zoo” with their men and friends asking if Issac had been moved. Felinus sent them the information, plus the doctor’s request that only one of them come at a time. That then prompted him to send similar information to a new chat Snake made called “Rushin’ Bros.” The two contacts just little pictures of a hotrod and a cartoon baby.
Little Volkov texted back immediately asking for more information, one question after another in rapid succession that Felinus didn’t have the energy to answer even if he wanted to, ending with telling Felinus that he had Issac’s backpack and the laptop had been badly damaged. He sent them a thumbs up, truly not able to dedicate the brain power to deal with Dimitri’s neediness and wondering how the fuck Issac put up with him while literally starving to death. He was glad he had told the brothers Issac couldn’t have visitors right away. He might throttle Dimitri if he heard his voice, and he wasn’t sure Adrian would stop him.
He stared at “the Holy Trinity” for a long time after that. Adrian would tell his father what Felinus said, and if the Don learned the information from the Pakhan instead of his Cat, Felinus was going to have much bigger problems. He could have texted the Don or Nikola directly, but this chat was created for the purpose of updating all three of them on Issac’s condition. If Felinus took O’Hare out of the loop by letting the Pakhan learn things through his sons and the Don learning through Felinus directly or indirectly… He didn’t want to think about the backlash. He sent them the new room number, stating that Issac was still asleep and shouldn’t have visitors at all.
All three of the little icons moved down almost immediately. The Pakhan sent a Russian word that his built-in translator fixed to a thanks. The Don also thanked him and asked for any updates to be shared with them all, pointed and friendly. O’Hare’s icon showed him typing and typing and typing some more until he too sent a single thanks and nothing else.
Brutus came about noon the next day, with a proper overnight bag and other essentials. “Get some sleep,” he told him, as he threw one of Felinus’s pillows onto the couch under the window and added a blanket. “I’ll wake you up if he wakes up or if anyone comes in with news.”
That started a rotation amongst his men. Bat came after Brutus, bringing Felinus something to eat and Issac’s lunch bag filled with drinks, sitting next to Issac as Felinus ate. They watched a soccer game and then a movie. It almost felt like they were soldiers again, sitting with one of their own while they waited for him to be discharged. Bat left around midnight with the strong suggestion that Felinus get some sleep, too.
Tiger came in the morning with one coffee and two breakfasts. He very pointedly drank from the coffee cup as he stared Felinus down, then insisted he eat and get some sleep in his one-word manner. Felinus fell asleep to the deep sound of Tiger speaking in low German, unable to keep a faint smile from his lips as the usually very quiet young man seemed to talk Issac’s ear off.
“I think he likes hearing German, again,” he said to Felinus as he got ready to leave just before noon. “But that may be projecting. I like talking to him in German.”
“I’m sure he likes it, too,” Felinus said, stretching his arms as he stood and felt his back pop. “Probably reminds him of his dad. You two looked to be about the same size so maybe your voices are similar.”
Tiger nodded, looking as close to pleased as he ever got. “In that case, I will brush up on stories normal children would hear from their parents. He might like to hear them again.”
“Sure, Tiger,” Felinus agreed, taking the seat again and slipping his hand into Issac’s once more. “I’m assuming Snake is going to be walking in next?”
Snake did, in fact, walk in next, then promptly dragged Felinus out of the chair and out of the door. “The hall is in a loop,” he said, pushing at his shoulders. “Go around three times then come back in. I’ll shout if he wakes up.”
And so it repeated until Issac finally stirred and didn’t immediately try to rip out his IV.
* * *
When Issac had been told he had slept for a week, Felinus, rather heartlessly in Issac’s opinion, pressed the little red button to release drugs into his IV as Issac realized how many absences from Young’s class he had racked up. Apparently, his “priorities” were mixed up but it was really hard to remember what they told him as his body grew heavy and his head fogged with the drugs.
Vases of flowers and balloons started appearing in his room whenever he woke up from a nap, whether brought on by Felinus’s button or just a sudden exhaustion that came over him.
“These are from the Volkovs,” Felinus said as he looked at the card that belonged to a somewhat modest arrangement of yellow and pink flowers. “Sorry… this is specifically from the matriarch because her son and grandsons are-” he squinted at the card. “I don’t know what that is supposed to be.” He set the card in front of the flowers. “She wants you to come visit her for dinner when you are better.”
“That’s nice of her,” Issac said, looking at the half-dozen or so vases that were rapidly taking over the space behind the machines attached to him. “She’s been passing those messages through Dimitri for years now.”
Russian grandmothers weren’t the only ones sending their well wishes.
On the two-week mark of being in the hospital, his doctor, a black man named White, said that the one visitor at a time limit could be eased up, with the firm understanding that it didn’t mean there could be “a repeat of the emergency waiting room” in Issac’s room. Felinus wouldn’t give him any more of an explanation than to say that people were worried about him. But the lift did seem to open a floodgate of sorts. Dimitri and Adrian were the first ones through the door once they had gotten word, so fast that Issac wasn’t completely convinced they hadn’t still been in the emergency waiting room.
“Yes, I know you are sorry, Dimitri,” Issac said firmly after the fifth apology. “There’s no reason for you to be sorry. You couldn’t do anything, and if you had, you’d have just gotten yourself shot. Now if you are done, tell me you brought lecture notes.”
Adrian sighed as he threw his fork into the container of noodles he had been eating out of and pulled out his wallet.
“Told you so,” Felinus said, his own fork digging at the bottom of his own container.
“Da, da,” Adrian said, slapping a twenty down on the table between them. “Excuse me for thinking he would take the break to heal.”
The next day Lucio and a man who looked like him in about twenty-five years came by with an older Italian woman between them.
“Nona,” Felinus said, starting to his feet. “What are you doing here?”
“Three Sunday dinners you have missed, gattino,” the woman said in a thick accent, then continued in rapid Italian as she shook her finger at Felinus.
