***Moon's P. O. V.***.
Clarke is a doctor in the pediatric intensive care unit at the hospital, so as soon as he heard that Crescent was in trouble, he rushed to treat him himself. They bring Crescent into a private room, since he's my mate and I don't want anyone seeing his body.
"Am I allowed to stay?" I ask Clarke, kind of wishing he'll say no so I don't have to witness this.
"Yes, just stay out of the way, please," he replies, gathering supplies. Crescent is struggling, trying to get up, crying and shaking. "Lay back, Crescent. Try to stay calm. You need to have your stomach cleaned out."
I watch in horror as Clarke tries to stick a tube up Crescent's nose, and he begins to fight like crazy. He's screaming at the top of his lungs. The nurses rush to restrain him, but he continues to pull at the restraints.
"I know it hurts, I know," Clarke says gently, pushing the long-ass tube farther into him.
One nurse puts a heart rate monitor on his finger, and is now putting an IV in his arm, and the other is drawing his blood. It's pretty heartbreaking to see. Once the tube is all the way in his nose and secured, Clarke begins to pump fluid out of it. In one long snip of a scissors, he cuts open Crescent's shirt, listening to his stomach with his stethoscope.
"Sounds good, Crescent. You're doing well. We'll give you something for he pain, okay? Try to relax," Clarke says.
My mate is still crying and trembling. They cut off the rest of his clothes, making my inner wolf growl.
"What are you doing?" I ask out loud.
"I gave him medication to make him poop so the drugs can get out of his system. In case he goes to the bathroom while he's asleep or unable to get up, I have to put a diaper on him," Clarke replies calmly.
"That's humiliating."
"Well, it's better than him having an accident all over himself and the bed."
Crescent has quieted down and is now whimpering quietly. The medicine is slowly taking effect.
~~~~~~~~~~
"Hey," Gregory whispers as he opens the door to Crescent's hospital room, holding a bouquet of flowers; a big teddy bear; and a 'Get Well' balloon. "How's he doing?"
"He's alright. Got himself another tube down his throat because he was having a hard time breathing. They're keeping him asleep for now, but they'll let him wake up tomorrow if he's stable," I answer.
"Poor little boy," Greg sighs, sitting down in a chair next to me. "Moon, what happened? Clarke told me that Crescent overdosed on medication."
"Someone blackmailed me to have sex with them, and he walked in as it started. He ran back to the house and I found him on the ground surrounded by pills."
"I just can't believe he tried to kill himself. What drove him to this? What have you been doing to him?"
"Nothing! I just-"
I stop talking. Yeah, I've been mean, but I haven't been too awful. Right? I know the situation with Jed looked bad, but why did he break like that?
"I can't let him go home with you after he's released if you're going to emotionally abuse him," Gregory says. "This is ridiculous. You need to take care of him. He's someone that hasn't known a ton of love in his life, but he's still happy and a wonderful person. You really don't deserve him."
"First of all, how dare you. I'm the alpha. There's nothing in this pack I don't deserve! And I'm sorry, okay? I know I fucked up! This is all my fault! I got that, and I hate myself for this! I'm going to make it up to him."
"How?"
"I'm going to try to treat him right. I don't know exactly what I'm going to do. Just something," my voice wavers as tears well up in my eyes.
"I want to believe you, Moon, but I'm having a hard time. We should just focus on Crescent right now. He'll need support when he wakes up. You should take him to a psychologist. This is a big deal."
"I know. I'll get him proper aftercare."
Gregory nods and scoots closer to Crescent. He plays with his hair, putting little braids in it. Clarke comes in quietly after a few minutes of awkward silence. He checks Crescent's vital signs, then sits down to talk.
"You're lucky he's not dead. He swallowed lethal doses of those pills. At this point, his stomach is as clean as it's going to get. He'll be in some pain when he eventually wakes up, and he'll have to take medication at home for awhile to ensure he makes a full recovery. You need to work on patching up your relationship with him. I have to ask, have you physically abused him at all?"
"No! I would never! Why would you say that?" I exclaim.
"He has bruising on his stomach. I'm not blaming you, I just want to know what happened."
"I was. . . trying to get him to throw up. I panicked, and when pressing on his stomach didn't work I gagged him. I'm sorry, Clarke. I didn't know what to do."
"I understand why you did what you did. I just wanted to make sure he's not in a dangerous situation at home. If he's not comfortable with you being here at the hospital with him, you'll have to leave."
I nod, "I understand."
~~~~~~~~~~
I'm at home, trying to sleep. I stayed as late as I could, but in the end he's not even conscious and I need sleep. I can't stop hating myself for what happened, and I already miss the way Crescent begs to sleep in my bed.
The way he was screaming and fighting Clarke haunts my mind. It's like I can still hear him. I really hope he doesn't have bad memories of my uncle after this.
I get up and go to the bathroom, taking out a container of sleeping pills. If I'm going to sleep at all tonight, I'll have to knock myself out.
~~~~~~~~~~
I wake up late. It's already one p.m. Oh great, what if Crescent is already awake? I check my phone, but I have no messages. I think Clarke would contact me if he woke up. I get dressed as fast as I can, brush my teeth and hair, and go straight to the hospital.
Crescent is still asleep when I get there, but the tube has been removed from his nose. Clarke agrees to take him off the sleeping medication. He should show signs of consciousness within a few hours. He seems to be breathing alright, so the breathing tube is removed. An oxygen tank and other equipment is being kept nearby just in case.
I text Gregory to come over. He can get off work if he tells his boss I sent for him. When he arrives, we wait in silence. Crescent stirs a little, but other than that he doesn't show any signs of waking for several hours. I'm about to take a cat nap.
"Ow. . ." Crescent moans.
I immediately snap to attention. I don't know what to do, so I click the button to call Clarke. I scoot as close as I can to my mate, holding onto his wrist gently. It's the closest I can get to holding his hand. Showing him affection is weird for me.
"Crescent?" I call his name quietly.
"Ooh, ow. . ." he moans again.
"Are you okay?" I ask, feeling awkward.
He moans again, repeating the word "ow" over and over and over. Thankfully, Clarke steps in the room.
"He's going crazy," I whisper, pointing to Crescent.
"He's not crazy, he's just in pain. Hey, buddy," Clarke says, sitting down by Crescent. "Can you hear me?"
My mate grits his teeth and wrinkles his forehead, groaning.
"Can you open your eyes for me?" Clarke asks gently.
His tries to look at Clarke, but his eyelids seem heavy. He closes them again. Clarke puts his stethoscope to his chest and nods.
It takes a little while for Crescent to become more responsive. Eventually, he keeps his eyes open and he stops moaning.
"Moon," he whispers in a raspy voice.
"I'm right here," I say, and he begins to cry.
"Crescent, I want to ask you a few things. Don't worry, they're not hard questions. I know you just got up," Clarke says.
I bite my lip and look at Gregory. He hasn't said a word in a long time. He's wringing his hands nervously, and he looks really upset.
"Can you tell me how much pain you're in on a scale of one to ten? Ten being the worst and one being almost nothing," Clarke continues.
"Um, I don't know," he replies, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. "Eight? Is that the right answer?"
"Don't get upset, there's no right answer. You don't have to answer at all. If you're having trouble breathing, tell someone right away. Okay, Crescent?"
"Okay," his voice wavers. "Moon, can you take me potty?"
"You can just go right where you are. You're wearing a. . . a. . ."
"Diaper?" he asks, tearing up again.
"Um, yeah."
"I don't like that. Please, Moon. Take me to the potty," he begs.
"Crescent, look. You have all this stuff attached to you. If you have to go that badly, just do it."
More tears leak out of his eyes. I feel kind of bad, but there's nothing I can do.
"Moon, it hurts."
"What does?"
"My throat. And my belly feels puffy," he cries.
"Puffy?"
"Mhm. Soooo puffy."
"I'm sorry, Crescent. About everything. I don't want you to ever feel sad enough to kill yourself."
"It's okay."
"But it's not. I'll make it up to you, okay?"
"Okay, Moon," he seems to notice Greg all of a sudden. "Uncle Gregory!"
"Hi, Crescent," he smiles. "I'm glad to see you awake."
"Glad to see you too. I'm tired, guys, and I think I might puke."
"There's a trash can right here if you really feel like you're going to throw up. You can sleep if you want to," Greg says.
"Okay. Night."
"Night, Koala."