Don't Let Go (BxB) {COMPLETED} ✔️

CHAPTER 3- Starvation.

ANNA
IT'S BEEN three days, and he still hasn't woken up.
Callie Mason and the other doctors and nurses have been doing all they can to keep him alive, but he's not getting any better. He's not going to get better. He hasn't eaten since the day of the attack, and he's only been able to force down a cup of water a day. He can't move on his own, he can't even breathe on his own. A doctor from the Main Hospital-- the 911 center for Choronuses-- had to come down to see him because none of the doctors here knew what to do. Callie keeps reassuring us-- Vee's family and me and my dad-- that he'll wake up and then they'll help him return to his previous life, but we all know that's never going to happen. Even if he does eventually wake up, he'll never be the same as he was before.
I sat in the plastic grey chair next to Vee's bed, listening to the sound of the ventilator forcing oxygen into and out of his lungs, absently watching his chest rise and fall with the artificial breathing. It wasn't really a ventilator, it's just made to look like one; in reality, the air was being forced through a tube that they'd had to put down Vee's throat so that the oxygen actually reached his lungs and went to his heart. The thin white blanket was pulled up to his elbows, showing the layers of bandages covering his chest, neck, and right shoulder. He was on every medication or machine that could do anything to help him; the ventilator, several different pain medications, an IV, life support, everything. He wasn't wearing a shirt-- it made it easier for the nurses/doctors to change his bandages-- but I didn't care. I looked at his face, watching for any sort of emotion that could indicate that he was waking up, but saw nothing.
His cheekbones were beginning to be more defined from the lack of food, making his black-lidded eyes look sunken into his face. His normally paper-white skin was now about the same shade of grey as the chair I was sitting on, the inside of his lips stained red from the blood that had pooled in his mouth. His ribs were beginning to show through his skin, visible even beneath the bandages covering his chest. His arms and upper body looked even more muscular because his body was eating away any extra fat he had (which I doubt was very much) to survive without food.
One time, I'd overheard the Main Hospital doctor that was helping Vee, Talon Karou, talking to one of the doctors-in-training, whom had been assisting Talon with Vee. "Once his body runs out of fat and muscle to live off of, there's no way we can bring him back." Talon had said. "The only real way to keep him alive is to get him to eat, otherwise. . ." He hadn't said it, but the meaning was inferred.
Otherwise he's never going to wake up.