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My little brother is back.
I beep the button over his head. Not long after, doctors and nurses barge into the room. After checking him up left and right like he’s a puppet, they remove the giant tube from his mouth.
He coughs an ugly stagnant sound, for which the doctors scribble some notes in their endless boards.
I inch closer to his bedside and clear my throat. “Welcome back, Aaron.”
Dylan sits by his side but says nothing. To say they don’t get along is an understatement.
All because of Celeste that I’m glad she’s gone.
“W-What’s...” Aaron cuts off his impossibly hoarse voice and coughs before he continues. “...m-my... condition?”
“You’ll live.” I smile. “You just need a lot of rest to recover the damaged lung.”
His eyebrows crease together. “A detailed report.”
I point at the doctors. “For that, you will need them. I don’t remember what they said.”
They brief Aaron about his condition, using medical terms I can’t decipher. Aaron nods and asks a few clipped questions. His voice is abnormally hoarse. Probably due to that tube that was shoved inside his chest the entire time.
After the horde of people dressed in white leave, Aaron sits in bed with weighing effort. “How long have I been here?”
“Roughly three days,” Dylan replies.
A cloud of uneasiness cloaks Aaron’s expression, accentuated by the whiteness of his face. His shaky fingers inspect the tubes and machines attached to him.
Dylan raises his eyebrows, voice shifting to firm. “Will you not ask about Celeste?”
“She must be dead. She can’t survive that.” Aaron doesn’t even look up. With trembling fingers, he tugs on a tube and snatches the needle from his arm.
“What are you doing?” I grab his hand to stop him but he’s already trying to get up.
“I’m going back.”
He stands up but his legs fail him. I clutch his shoulders and sit him back on the bed.
“You can’t even walk straight.” Dylan stands by my side. “Not to mention that you look like hell.”
Aaron shoots him a glare and grits his teeth. “Dial Kane to come and get me out of here.”
“Kane is on an important mission,” I say in a neutral tone.
My brother jerks his head towards me. The sudden movement causes him to hiss. “What mission?”
“Do you have something to tell us, Aaron?” Dylan’s voice is firm.
A shadow passes Aaron’s eyes, but he soon masks it. The little show of interest is all I need. I lean close. “Something like kidnapping Mae Wilson and keeping her in your quarters for several weeks.”
A long silence takes over the room. Dylan and I share a glance.
Aaron is guilty of charge. He did well hiding her, though. How long would it have passed my notice if he didn’t get shot?
“Kane is fucking dead.” Aaron’s voice is strangled, but it seems to be due to unsaid words rather than pain. I’m seeing parts of him that I’ve rarely witnessed since Father’s death.
“It’s not Kane’s fault.” I lean against the bed’s frame. “When I caught up to you and saw you drowning in your own blood, she caught my attention through the window crying your name.”
Aaron’s brows furrow, sweat forms on his forehead. This time it’s due to the effort he makes to move. Dylan and I support him. He refuses help at first, being the little twat he is, but accepts assistance begrudgingly after he almost falls to his face.
