Trip Hazard

He's All Yours

Brody

I'm a bundle of nervous energy. I just want to see him, make sure he's okay. But what happens if he thinks it's all my fault, like Xavier clearly does?

He's not exactly wrong, really. They are my friends. I should have been paying more attention to what they were doing. If only fucking Noah hadn't gone to them crying drunk and given them ideas. I've spent so much time keeping them away from Isaac's play, and Noah fucking paved the way. Fucking Noah. Leaving me alone with him was a risk, I'm surprised Elijah allowed it, all I want to do is shake some sense into him. Maybe I should. We're in the right place to patch him up if things go south. No. Take Jax's advice. If in doubt, walk away, find your happy place. I stand up and walk to Isaac's door.

I hear Isaac's voice float through the door. My breath catches in my throat. He sounds so weak.

"Viens, maman, s'il te plait, j'ai peur."

I don't understand what he's saying, but his large sobs transcend the language barrier. It pains me to hear.

"J'ai peur, maman. Ça fait tellement mal. Oui, ils sont ici avec moi. Je sais, je sais. Je le ferai, bien sur."

A long pause, a few sniffles. I look at Noah, to see if he can hear him too. He looks really distressed. He fucking should.

"Ok maman. Je sais. A bientôt, oui? Je t'aime bien aussi maman."

He hangs up and his crying intensifies.

I immediately reach for the door, but Noah's had the same idea. Our hands meet on the handle. I look at him. He looks at me.

I'm waiting for him to back down, because he will. He's hardly the forceful type. You don't become friends with people like Isaac and Elijah if you want to be in the lead.

He removes his hand and sits back down outside, head in his hands again. I almost say to him that I won't be too long, hell I almost offer for him to go in first, then I remember he caused this fucking mess.

I swing the door open and step inside, making sure I hear the click of the door closing behind me. I would have slammed it, but I don't want to disturb Isaac.

I take a quick look around the room before my eyes settle on him. The room is pretty standard, nothing too fancy, the complete opposite of the hospital we went to when Harry was born. The bed in the middle, a small plastic chair in the corner, windows lining one wall, flashing lights and meaningless buttons on another.

Every muscle in my body wants to run over to him, tell him he's safe, I'm here, I'm sorry, but I don't. I just perch awkwardly on the chair, and watch him. The baby blue hospital gown washes him out completely, he's pale and clammy, baby hairs stuck to his face with sweat, and tears are still running down his cheeks. Needles and tubes wind around his wrists like handcuffs. He sees me watching him, probably with a look of dismay.

"Aren't you meant to always tell me I look good?" He jokes through his tears.

"Even in an ugly hospital gown?" My voice cracks.

"Especially in an ugly hospital gown, otherwise why am I keeping you around?" He snorts but it turns into a sniffle.

He shuffles over the best he can with one of his legs supported in the air, and pats the space next to him.

I tentatively make my way over, and sit down on the edge of the bed. I'm so careful not to touch him, I won't let myself hurt him.

"Well then, this is the sexiest you've ever looked." I lie, smirking down at him. He laughs, pulls a funny pose, then gives me a serious look. I can sense the change in atmosphere easily.