Working For Your Love (PG X PG)

Planning

Rio's POV

Scott came back to life, somehow. I still remember what he looked like when he was coming back to life. We were sitting on the roof of the hospital, talking to each other, went his body suddenly got dragged through the roof itself. It still made me scream, even though I knew that he was a ghost, and that he was halfway between life and death. It was just so creepy just watching him fall...He just fell through the floor. It was terrifying. After sitting there for a few minutes, or hours, I honestly had no idea, I got up and ran back down into the ward he was staying in. The person at the desk told me that he had been moved into the ICU ward. From that moment onwards everything was just one, big, messed up blur. I remember seeing him talk to me again, I remember holding onto his, well, stump, and...and the news about Mitch got told to us. Luckily, he wasn't dead. The only way that he was going to die was if his spine got any more damaged, he had another seizure, he had another heart attack, or if he got that tube pulled out of his neck. Those things were preventable, which was always good news. Yet that was when we got told that, unless we wanted him to stay in hospital until he died either of one of those things or old age, we would have to buy an oxygen tank for him to breath through, a heart monitor, and some kind of IV unit so that he could stay alive in the comfort of our apartment. I ran my fingers through my hair and stared straight at the wall in front of me. I was currently sitting in Mitch's room, trying to plan out if we could actually fit everything in here. We probably couldn't...He also had to have this weird crane that lifted him out of bed when he needed it...There was no way that we would be able to fit that in.

When we first heard this news, of course we were planning to move out. This buildings lift was so old and withered that we had to call the fire-fighters at least four times a week to rescue a person, or multiple of them, out of that place. One time I got stuck in that thing, and it wasn't fun in the slightest. I decided to take the elevator that day because I really had to use the bathroom and I knew that, if it didn't break down, riding it would be quicker than taking the stairs. As soon as the door closed and it started to move upwards, after a few seconds the lights cut out and I was stuck in there. At that moment I had to pee so badly that I tried to get the doors open so that I could try and escape, when I saw nothing but a concrete wall. I had to yell for twenty minutes straight before somebody even realised what was going on. We couldn't let our Mitch go through that on a daily basis. Even when his ankles and elbows did heal up, his windpipe and spine wouldn't. He was going to have to wear this weird, spine brace until his body stopped developing. And even after that, he was only allowed to be free from it for two years until he had to wear it again because his body would start shrinking again. His life wasn't going to be a fun one. Of course, this back brace meant it was going to be extremely painful to walk up and down stairs, so we would have to use the elevator...I didn't want that. Moving into a proper, well lit, warm home where we could have one of those stair lifts on the stairs would be the best thing for him. Heck, we could even get a downstairs room for him. I'm sure that, if we had the money, we could buy a house with a connection garage and convert that into a proper room for him. If we were allowed to convert, we would put all kind of stuff in there. Aside from the important stuff like the crane, the bed, and the IV unit, we could also put in a bathroom, a TV, and tons of other stuff that would make him feel more...well...more loved while he was in that state. It was probably going to be impossible, knowing our jobs...but hopefully it could work.

The door opened and Scott walked in, holding his chest. I didn't even feel a pang of worry when I saw this. It's happened tons of times before. When that whole Scott-turning-into-a-ghost thing happened, he obviously woke up again. The situation that he woke up in wasn't that good, though. He woke up just as they were cutting him open to see what was wrong with him. He's been having chest pains ever since. He sat down opposite me and opened up the book that the hospital gave us. It was filled with information on how too look after Mitch if he ever came out of the hospital, as well as the things that we needed to buy for him just so that he could live. The amount of things were terrifying. IV units to hold bags up, morphine bags to stop the pain that the tube gave him, Saline bags to hydrate him when he couldn't drink, his oxygen tank, new tubes that we had to put into his neck once a month to stop disease or something, face masks for us to wear whenever we got ill so that we didn't affect him, and the list just goes on and on and on. Those were only half of the things we needed, and at this current moment in time, we couldn't even afford that! I had a horrible feeling that we were just going to let the hospital take care of him and pay the insurance once a month. That really did seem like the only thing we could do right now.Until we could afford everything that was in the book, as well as professional carers to look after him while we were at work, we had no other choice but to let the hospital do their thing. Sure, we could look after Mitch by ourselves without having to get carers, but that means that we wouldn't get a wink of sleep. While Rio was at work, I would be at home, catching up on the sleep that I missed during my shift. While I was at work, Rio would be doing the same thing. The only time that we could both look after him was on Sundays. And even on those days we would probably be too warn out to physically lift him places. God, it seemed like none of this was ever going to work out.