His eyelashes are singed. I didn’t notice it earlier, but now it’s almost impossible not to see. He has the most beautiful eyelashes. Long and thick, framing his eyes perfectly. I know they’ll grow back. I know that, but it doesn’t make it easier to see.
His throat is wrapped loosely in gauze, slight pink bleeding out around the edges where the burns aren’t as bad. His shoulder is wrapped too.
I know he’s not cold, but the sight of his bare chest makes my heart ache, especially the bruising on his sternum. Compressions are hard. When Sarah… I shake my head against my own thoughts. I can’t afford to go there right now. Sarah is dead. And it might be my fault, but it’s also been twenty-one years. I couldn’t save her. Ididn’tsave her.
I saved Arlo. Maybe. My eyes burn. God, I fucking hope I saved him.
The bruising is getting to me. The day I went to the diner, ready to get Arlo back and make him mine for good, Theo asked me if I’d hurt him. I was upset about that.
I’d never hurt Arlo. I’d just as soon cut my own hands off. But here we are anyway. Arlo’s ribs cracked, with an ugly bruise forming on his chest from the force of what I had to do to him.
ECG leads dot his chest. His heartbeat is steady now. Normal and strong. I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to get him flatlined out of my head, though. The image will haunt me until the day I die.
My eyes travel lower. He has an IV in each arm, and his knuckles are red.
Before they cleaned him up, I hadn’t noticed. Or maybe I was just too focused on everything else. He tried to crawl, I think. Tried dragging himself through the house.
Fresh panic rushes in at the thought, my chest getting so tight I can hardly breathe around the pressure.
He must have been so afraid. I can’t even bear to think about it. My sweet baby boy, dragging himself through fire to get to safety, only to pass out instead, his heart giving out on him.
The pressure in my chest gets worse, choking me. I can’t breathe. There’s just Arlo’s lifeless body. Arlo and Sarah, mingling in my head and destroying me from the inside out.
I force a deep breath into my lungs.
I’m not sixteen anymore.
They got his pulse back.
He’s alive.
He’s alive and right here.
He’s asleep. Just asleep. He’s just asleep.
“Jasper.” Luca’s voice pulls me out of my spiraling thoughts, and I turn, finding him standing a few feet away. His eyes leave mine and fall to Arlo, and he covers his mouth with his hands, tears welling up and instantly spilling over. “Is he…? He’s gonna be okay, right?”
“He’s stable,” I say, my voice sounding like it belongs to someone else. My lips are numb. I can’t quite feel the words leaving my mouth. Maybe that’s why they don’t feel like my own. “Where’s Austin?”
Luca steps closer. “Can I?”
I nod. “Hold his hand if you want. Just be careful of the IV.”
Luca’s face crumples when he gets closer, but he wraps his finger loosely around Arlo’s pinky. My throat almost closes up at that small gesture, and something warm slips down my cheek.
“Talk to him,” I choke out. “They say they can hear us.”
“Austin’s in the waiting room,” Luca finally says. “They said only two people at a time, and neither of us wanted to kick you out, so Austin told me to come in first.”
That’s for the best, really. Would I leave Arlo’s side so Austin could visit him? Probably not. I don’t think I’d leave Arlo’s side for a single fucking thing in this world.
God himself couldn’t make me. Unreliable bastard that he is.
“When will he wake up?” Luca asks.
“I don’t know. They have him sedated right now. The smoke inhalation caused swelling in his throat. They want to give him time to heal a bit before they lift the sedation.”
“He’s gonna be okay?” Luca sounds so young right now, his voice small and vulnerable.
