It clicked open with a hesitant, almost apologetic quietness. Crofton Gibson stepped back into the room. The designer hoodie was zipped up to his chin now as if he were suddenly cold. The aggressive swagger was gone replaced by a hollowed-out exhaustion that made him look a decade older. He was carrying a cardboard tray holding two large steaming paper cups.
He didn’t look at the bed right away. He looked at Dougal who was sitting in the corner charting vital signs. Crofton walked over, his steps heavy and flat. He stopped a few feet from the desk and held out the cardboard tray. “Black,” Crofton said, his voice raspy.
“Like you said. ” Dougal looked at the tray, then up at Crofton’s face. The younger man’s eyes were bloodshot. The anger had burned off leaving only the charred brittle reality of what was happening in this room. Dougal reached out and took one of the cups. “Thank you. ” Crofton stood awkwardly for a moment not knowing what to do with his hands.
He finally walked over to the leather sofa, the same one he had thrown his gym bag on hours ago, and sank heavily into the cushions. He gripped his coffee cup with both hands staring down at the dark liquid. “I didn’t go to the cafeteria,” Crofton admitted softly. “I walked around the block three times. It’s freezing out there. ” “Cold air helps clear the adrenaline,” Dougal noted, taking a sip of the coffee.
It was burnt, bitter, and entirely perfect. Crofton let out a short, dry breath that wasn’t quite a laugh. “My shoulder’s throbbing. I think you bruised the bone. ” “Just the nerve. It’ll ache for a day, then it’ll be fine,” Dougal said.
He didn’t offer an apology. It wasn’t required. They sat in silence for a long time. The only sound was the rhythmic hiss of the oxygen concentrator and the slow, erratic beep of Raphael Gibson’s heart monitor. The gap between the beeps was widening.
“He’s not waking up again, is he? ” Crofton asked. He didn’t look up from his cup. “His organs are failing,” Dougal answered, keeping his tone grounded and factual. No false hope, no soft-pedaling. “The morphine is keeping the pain away, but the body is shutting down its non-essential functions.
