The Quest for Epic

Chapter Forty Eight

"He's being moved to a recovery unit in the ICU. I'll make some arrangements for you to see him in due time. But for now, I'd encourage you all to go get some rest. The worst is over", Dr. Sullivan said

"I'm not leaving him", Sandra said almost immediately

"That's understandable, Mrs. Wyatt", Dr. Sullivan remarked "The hospital offers a few rooms for visitors who wish to stay overnight. You're more than welcome to use our facilities"

"I'd like to stay too", I added. I looked to Noah and he nodded once, he was on board.

"That's fine. I'll send someone over to show you the way to the rooms. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a few things to take care of", and with that final note, Dr. Sullivan left us.

The mood was lifted. We were all hopeful now and I could see it on everyone's faces. Darryl was still in a coma, but it was sure much better than losing him. At least now there was hope for a recovery, and even though Dr. Sullivan said it may not be a 100% recovery, it was more than I could ask for.

The next few minutes were spent with the rest of Sandra and Darryl's friends saying their goodbyes and promising to come by tomorrow before they all headed home for the night, leaving just me, Sandra and Noah. A hospital worker came and directed us towards the rooms but before we settled in for the night, we were able to see Darryl once through the window of his recovery room.

He was still hooked up to as many tubes as before, and he was still covered up in bandages and supports. But his chest was moving up and down, he was breathing, even if it was with the help of a ventilator. He was alive, and right now, that was all that mattered.

The next three days passed in a blur. We waited. People came by to visit. We all waited some more. They left. We kept waiting.

Once we were allowed to visit Darryl, we all took turns by his side.

Still waiting.

For a blink of an eye, for the twitch of his finger... anything. But no, he remained the same. I spent my time in his room with him, quietly watching the IV and blood bags and the way different fluids were transported in and out of his body. Sometimes, I would hold his hand gently and tell him funny stories of my childhood... the childhood he had missed. I would tell him to be strong and wake up from his coma, so he didn't have to miss mine and his futures too.

As there were no substantial progress reports, hopes were dwindling down and so were the number of visitors. They must have all returned to their daily routines but quite a number of them visited from time to time, just not every day.

Noah was also a blur. He mostly left me alone and to my thoughts; he was always in the background, running errands, fetching coffee, driving Sandra around, getting us supplies and a change of clothes. He was constantly moving from one thing to the other, and in those three days, we didn't talk, except for the occasional morning greeting of 'hey', then he would ask how I was doing and we would say goodnight before bed and that was it.

He looked like he was going out of his way to avoid me and by day four, I wasn't having it anymore.

Noah walked up to me that morning holding two coffees and a brown bag containing what, by the delicious aroma wafting out of it, was breakfast. He was sporting the beginnings of a beard, and was wearing a grey hoodie and jeans, but still he looked as handsome as ever and I felt a familiar pang in my chest as I watched him right up until he sat down next to me.

"Hey sunshine", he grinned at me and the familiar nickname made the ache in my chest grow "I got us some breakfast from Boots. Regina took Sandra out for breakfast... She needed a break from the hospital"