When It's Time to Move On

Door 3 - Chapter 38 - Understanding

"Doctor...Roslin...?" He managed to utter with some difficulty, his throat felt raw with dryness although there was no thirst.

"Are you okay?" she asked, and there was such tenderness behind her voice that Harris instantly recalled his mother's voice once more.

"I'm...uh... where?"

He attempted to pull himself up to sit but was gently pushed back down by Roslin. Harris complied with the pressure as his breathing steadied. He turned his head around to see the man whose daughter had visited him the day before. 

Unlike the previous day though, Harris was the one who was being looked at with pity. It was a strange feeling to be pitied by a person that had almost overdosed not even twenty-four hours earlier. He must have been looking absolutely terrible.

"How are you feeling?" Roslin asked, again quite warmly.

There was a lump in his throat that prevented him from saying a word. More than that, his eyes were burning, not from his condition but from shame. The shame of his position, of the fact that he had landed himself back here in the hospital. 

He had come full circle, and this time it was his own doing because the person he'd blamed before was the one who stood by him now with her face laced with such concern. Harris looked away from Roslin, his hands were too weak to wipe away the tears welling in his eyes. He took a deep breath and nodded.

"I'm so sorry," her voice sounded defeated. Yet, it was still much better than the empty assurances she had once given. At least the concern she had now made Harris feel confident enough to face her again.

"Me too," he said honestly.

For a moment neither of them spoke. It was of no use to talk about something that they could do nothing about. But for Harris to feel in a safe place was something he was extremely grateful for. And Roslin's silent but understanding eyes were just what he wanted to look into, a place with a friend. Or at least that's what she suddenly felt like to him.

"So, um, what happened?" He finally asked once he could bring himself up to controlling his voice.

"You passed out. I brought you in here immediately. It's been a few hours actually," she informed him. It was six in the morning. Roslin had to have pulled him all the way to the car, driven an unconscious Harris in the middle of the night, and lugged him all the way inside the hospital. With that realization, he felt the shame wash down on himself all over again.

"Thank you." He muttered apologetically.

"It was the least I could've done."

Her understanding began to bother him now. He appreciated it but didn't know what to make of it. And he was certain of what she was about to suggest.

"Harris... you really need to reconsider getting the treatment," said Roslin cautiously.

The reluctance in Harris served as a provider of strength for him as he found himself feeling slightly reinvigorated to turn her down.

"No," he said firmly and even managed to lift himself up to a sitting position. "I'm not the one that needs help."

"Auden has an addiction, Harris. You have an illness." Now it seemed Roslin's sympathy was running thin as she sounded more assertive. "We can try and help him but the ultimate decision is whether he wants to go down a destructive path or not. You don't have that option."

"Of course I do. I'm choosing not to go through with it."

"That's not a choice, that's a suicide," said Roslin angrily. "I just don't get why you're so fixated on this ridiculous assumption that you're choosing to live. You're not. You could live so much longer. Just think– "