Ch. 18

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He could hear the murmuring sounds of people all around him, were they talking about him? Was their something wrong with being a sponge in recovery? What gave them the right to judge him?

He was sitting in his wheel chair, facing the many windows, where he could see the garden in front of him, he could see the bright blue sky, the few jellyfish that buzzed carelessly in the ocean current. It was a nice day out, but here he was stuck inside this white building, wearing his white dress that draped down to his ankles.

A perfect day ruined by an accident that happened a month ago, nothing had changed, Patrick still hadn't woken up, still in the healing process with him, they had removed the bandages from his face, stitches lined down the center of his face, but he was healing, and that was good sign right?

It had been a while since he heard from anyone on the outside that wasn't his family, he hadn't seen or heard anything from Ivianna, which was strange, he'd messaged her each day about his recovery but, he still wouldn't get an answer, she was his girlfriend, was this the end of them?

He blinked when a raindrop hit the window in front of him, the bright blue sky turned grey, what was new? It always seemed to rain on days like this, it was like he was an actual storm cloud.

"Spongebob, it's time." A nurse announced from behind him, Spongebob didn't say anything he just let her take him away, back to his room, a lot had changed in a month. They had taken him out of Patrick's room, for both of their safety, he had use of both of his arms, but his legs, would he ever be able to walk again? The doctor said he would but, what do they know? They're just, doctors.

At least they let him see his grandfather, whose next stop was hospice. Some doctors they are, they can't even help his sick grandfather.

"How are you feeling, grandpa?" Spongebob asked as he wheeled himself into the room, his grandfather would smile, "Oh, Spongebob, how are you? My favorite grandson." he said as he held out his hand for Spongebob to come to him.

"Getting better, I'm still in recovery though." Spongebob shrugs, his grandfather sighs, "It was shame what happened to you and your pink friend, I sure hope he's ok." Edson said, Spongebob's grandfather.

Spongebob sighed, "Me too, say grandpa, I need some, uh.. Advice, sorta, I mean."

"Well spit it out son, what do you need?" he asked him, "Well, the doctor said that Patrick needs something to live, an organ, a brain transplant," Spongebob paused, Edson sat up some, "You're not thinking about.." Spongebob nodded.

"I mean, is it a bad thing?" Spongebob asked, "Pft not if you want to die." Grandpa said, Spongebob looked up at him, "I mean, I won't give him all of it, I mean, I'm a sponge, can't I just grow it back?" Spongebob asked him, Grandpa sighed, "It's not that easy son, it might work but, if it doesn't, you or Patrick won't live." Grandpa shook his head.

"So, it's a no?" Spongebob asked, Grandpa laid his head back down, "Do what you believe is right, it couldn't hurt to try, I just don't want to lose you for something you'll regret." Grandpa said, Spongebob smiled, "You don't want to lose me?" he asked.

Grandpa looked at him, he smiled, "You are my favorite grandson, you're much better then my son's I'll give you that, you're a kind young lad, always putting others before yourself, and someday son, that will get you killed." Grandpa said before he yawned.

He wasn't lying when he told him that, "I'll be fine, I'll come see you right after." Spongebob said as he rubbed his grandfather's hand, "You better." he said before he fell asleep, "I will, good night grandpa." Spongebob said before he rolled out of the room.

Spongebob sat in front of the window, staring at Patrick who was laying in the bed, still hooked up to the breathing tubes, he was glad that they hadn't given up on him completely, it might not seem like it, but, Patrick was still there, he was just, sleeping.

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