Standing By

A Home Free/Pentatonix Medley

"How do you feel about pop?" I asked him urgently.

"I'm dying of thirst," he told me, shaking his head. "I'd kill for a Dr. Pepper."

I 'pop'ped him on the arm. "Not soda pop. Pop music."

Chris snorted at him as the nurse slowed down in front of rooms 380-382, then turned me back around and pushed me two doors down into 378.

"Here you are," she told me, gesturing to someone across the hall. I got rolled in, still talking to Rob.

"See, Pentatonix does mainly pop. I'm thinking it'd be fun to mix things up. I want them to do one of our songs—I hope they're cool with country or gospel; that's a bulk of what we got. Probably need to call, ah, Kevin. Hey, you got Kevin's number? Of course you do, you were talking to them—pfft!" I babbled, Rob following me timidly as the nurse and the woman she'd gestured over parked me in front of the bed. The new nurse, a woman whose name tag read 'Jackie', had just popped a thermometer in my mouth unexpectedly.

"Mr. Rupp," she said firmly. "We need to get your vitals. If you would, please settle down for a minute."

Mom patted my arm. "Take a breath, honey. Let's take care of this first."

Jackie held the thermometer an inch from my lips. "Open your mouth, please."

If I'm opening it, it's going to be talking. She poked the thermometer at it, so I opened up. "You think Avi might enjoy some Ring of—oof!" I batted the thermometer away.

"Adam, hush," Ericha instructed me, placing Cerise on Tris' lap. "Let this nice nurse take your temperature."

Jackie giggled. "Let me clarify. Open your mouth and don't talk."

Not sure that's going to be possible right now. I opened it just a tad. "Or how about—"

"Adam, cooperate!" Dad ordered crossly. "Be quiet and let her get your temperature!"

I clasped a hand to my head, trying to stem the flow of information. If we could just get hold of Pentatonix—Tim and Avi could be killer on Ring of Fire together. That song has got to be one of our biggest hits; we had to incorporate it somehow. And Elvira—or is that too country? Jackie was again tapping at my mouth with that stupid thermometer. I opened it and consciously clenched down on my racing thoughts to let her get my temperature.

"Thank you," she stated, making a quick note and grabbing my wrist. I yelped at the movement, my eyes tearing in pain. Well, that's one way to get arrangements out of my head—fill it with pain instead! "Oh, sweetheart. I hurt you, I'm so sorry!"

I looked up at her accusingly, her still trying to take my pulse on my sore wrist. "Use the other one."

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart," she apologized again, dropping my sore arm and moving to my left arm. She hrmphed for a minute before asking, "Has anyone ever told you that you have a fast heart rate?"

"Nope," I grunted at her, head now drooped over and afraid to move my hand.

"What is it?" Mom asked worriedly as Ericha dropped to her hands and knees to get our escaping daughter out from under the sink.

"Well, you did just cause him pain," she pointed out, her cute butt sticking straight out as she went after her. "What'd you think—ah-choo!"

"Check it again in a minute," Jackie decided, marking a few things down. "You want some pain medicine? Looks like your doctor prescribed you some oxycodone. I need to get you hooked up on normal saline and lactated ringer's."