Making up for lost time ~Hat Films Fan Fiction~

Chapter 8 - The waiting game

The first night they had brought Chris into hospital, a doctor sat Alex down to speak with him. A meeting of sorts in an overly clean white box with mismatched tat to make it seem homely. Alex's eyes were glued to his shoes, the walls, the ceiling, anywhere but the doctor sat in front of him. "I gather that you are Chris' other half then?" He smiled, sadness looming in his overly happy eyes. Alex replied with a curt nod, "I see, you are welcome to stay with him for as long as you wish. Visiting hours don't really apply to coma patients". Smith looked up, 'as good as that sounds it must be a silver lining to a shitstorm'.

"Allow me to explain his situation to you properly; you see Chris has suffered multiple fractured ribs, a concussion, extensive bruising, a broken arm and most clearly, internal bleeding." Alex was in total shock, his eyes begin to fill with emotion and tear up. Noticing this, the doctor carried on,

"We were able to repair the damage caused from the attack, he's stable." Alex calmed down at this, visually and mentally. "So when will he wake up?" The most logical question of all, but seemingly the most difficult to answer judging by the time it took for the doctor to reply. "We imagine any time between now and in the next four months." he smiled. Panic arose inside of Smith, "F-four months?! I I don't understand?" The younger man stuttered out, tightening and relaxing his fist in an attempt to keep calm. "Four months is a relatively short time for coma patients, I'm afraid that's all there is to say." Standing, the doctor offered Alex his hand to shake. "Take your time Sir, he'll wake up, just give it time".

Since then the doctors had been in and out, informing Alex of Trott's progress, or lack of. Consistent conversations of, "How is he?"

"His blood pressure and heart rate are normalising, still no signs of consciousness... sorry". The apologies, always the apologies. Which reminded him, he owed Chris an apology. Or more. Three weeks. It had been three weeks since Trott was admitted to hospital. It was hard, sitting down, talking in a one man conversation and remembering to eat what was put in front of you. But what was most difficult was seeing Trott, even touching him but not hearing him or feeling him. Smith sat and watched Chris' chest rise and fall, his eyes stuck in a distant stare behind his eyelids and his mind wandering to distant places. Alex's mind was brought back suddenly by an abrupt knock on the door. Peering over his shoulder, Alex recognised Ross' familiar tall frame, "How's it going mate?" He moved on over to sit opposite Smith, the other side of Trott. Alex nodded, not trusting his voice. Painful he thought. But Alex didn't want to tell Ross his feelings of distress because Ross was suffering too. One of his best friends was in hospital, the only difference between him and Alex was that Smith's feelings had progressed on to an unsafe territory. Ross simply smiled and lifted up a Tesco bag. "Food for the patient." He mused, handing over a bottle of some sort of carbonated drink along with a meal-deal sandwich and banana. "But he can't eat Ross, he's in a coma."

"I'm not stupid you twat, I meant you. It's obvious you're suffering mate." Ross smiled and Alex smiled back. Smith flet guilty that he tried to hide this from Ross, he had underestimated him. "Thanks." Smith muttered. Satified, Ross gave a curt nod before leaning back in the chair. "I love him." Alex blurted, instantly regretting it as his cheeks flared up. Ross rolled his eyes and turned to Smith with a knowing smile. "I called it," He grinned, "Right from the start." Ross chuckled slightly, satisfied with himself. Smith felt relieved, there was no better feeling then telling someone how you felt. It wasn't the same as telling Chris, but technically Trott had already said he loved Alex. Even if he was drunk or thought he was dying, he still meant it, right? The emotions began to thump hard against the inside of Smith's head and he decided to distract himself with Ross' gift of Tesco. They sat in silence for a little while, Smith listened to Ross talking to Trott, occasionally joining in but silence always seemed to follow. Reaching out, Alex held Chris' hand, intertwining their fingers as usual. Ross stood up, patted Smith on the back then said goodbye to the both of them. He never stayed for long, Alex assumed Ross felt like he was intruding, which he wasn't, but never said anything. It could be Ross' way of copping. Alex's way of copping seemed to be spending every minute he could with Chris. Not that it bothered him, Trott's company was always welcomed, conscious or not. But Alex did miss his voice. The YouTube channel they started had been effected heavily by Trott going to hospital, but they handled it by releasing episodes of bulk session, 1 ever other day. "I just want you to wake up." Smith murmured, rubbing his thumb along the back of Chris' hand. Smiling sadly to himself, he soaked in the bittersweet feeling of holding Chris' hand but not hearing him. "Get well. You twat." He lent forward and kissed Trott's forehead. Grazing his lips against Chris' skin, Alex relished the quickly fleeting moment then moved away, staring longingly.

****

Alex walked back into the room, greeting Chris as he went in. Trott still wasn't awake but Smith found a strange comfort in talking to his still body. It had been five weeks since Chris had been attacked and put into hospital, but Alex was learning to cope with it. It would be worth it when he wakes up. Three times a day the patients in the hospital were given meals. Trott was attached to a feeding line himself, being in a coma didn't exactly offer great food opportunities. Three times a day the rattling of cups and dishes passed by followed by the smell of hospital food. Three times a day, every day, the trolley would pass by Trott's room, and every time on its return journey would stop outside. In the whole time Alex had spent by Chris' side, the nurses and staff began to offer him blankets, extra pillows, cups of tea. It was as if he had become the patient. Three times a day, Ethel would pass by with her trolley and check on him, offer him whatever food she had left on the trolly and ask about Chris. Their conversations were usually short and sweet, so when she knocked on the door to Chris' room Smith didn't expect her to stay long. Noticing her enter the room Alex looked up, shared a warm polite smile and accepted the food she was carrying. "How is he today?"she smiled,

"Same as yesterday, and the day before. The doctors think his ribs have healed though." Smith muttered, gazing at the steady beeping coming from the monitors attached to Chris. A sad but genuine smile spread across her face, "And how are you? You haven't left his side since he came in". She took a step closer and sat on the edge of Trott's bed, and looked up at Smith, "It's okay to talk about this you know, about him." She glanced over to Trott, a sad knowing smile fluttered across her face as she caught Smith staring at him. "I can't leave him," a resigned sigh left his lips, "I just can't. What would I do without him?" He stuttered, "W-what if he woke up and I wasn't here to see him? I ca- I won't leave, not again". Alex ran a hand through his uncombed hair, "You love this boy too much for your own good," Ethel laughed, the warm tone to her voice brightening up the room. "I know." Alex mumbled as he rested his head in his hands. Standing up, Ethel placed a hand on Smith's shoulder, "Look after yourself, or get a good nights rest at the very least." smiling as she exited the room, the door swinging shut behind her. Alex nodded to himself, he could do with one good night sleep. As soon as normal visiting hours ended, Alex stood up and took a few small steps to the edge of Trott's bed. Leaning over him, he kissed his forehead and gently brushed the hair out of his eyes. "I'll see you in the morning, twat face."

Entering the hospital, Alex was feeling rather wiry yet enthusiastic. Ross had spent the whole of last night finally putting together Trott's bed. Obviously it was new, considering the right mess they had made of the other one, but slowly it felt like they were preparing for when Chris comes home. He use to sleep on either the sofa or an airbed, no way he is now. Smith had rocked up wearing an old tattered hoodie that was more of a pale red than the maroon it had started it's life as. Lying back in his usual seat, Smith took up the regular position of holding Trott's hand and laying back at an awkward angle. " I brought the hoodie along." He smirked but then it turned into and embarrassed grin. "I'm glad you didn't forget. The hoodie or me." Alex laughed softly to himself. A more solemn look cast over his face, "I regret not staying in contact, especially how we parted. Well, how you left." He averted his gaze to Trott's face. "But I'm glad the way things worked out. I love being with you. Having you near m-" Catching his sentence short, a yawn interrupted his speech. Chuckling apologetically Smith shed the hoodie and lay it across Chris' lap. He also slipped off the tattered, braided bracelet and slid it on to Trott's smaller, thinner wrist. "Night mate." He pulled Chris' hand closer and kissed it lightly, appreciating the feeling. Rubbing the sleep away from his eyes before leaning back into the chair and falling asleep. His heavy head dropping one side.