Shaun's POV :
I was delaying to go back to France. Joy wanted me to go, but how could I leave her? She was so frail like a china doll and all I wanted to do was snatch her pain away, bundle her up in the thickest blankets and take her safely home.
"Gem, maa will come to pick you up before bedtime," I said softly, concentrating my attention on her after taking a glimpse of my watch. "Grab your things, we don't want to create a mess in this place."
Gemma nodded vaguely, her gaze travelling the liquid trickling in the tube next to the urine catheter.
"Can I stay please?" she asked suddenly in a pleading tone.
"Yeah . . . Okay. Maa will understand, I'll tell her," I said gently, not wanting to say no to Gemma. She had already suffered through many mental breakdowns this month and it hurt me to see my other sister go through so much misery. It hurt me to be rendered useless, not knowing how to help them.
She murmured, her voice sounding lost, "Thank you."
I didn't say anything, only reached out and patted her back.
Then, I shifted on my seat and hissed at Logan who sat erect on a stool at the corner of the room, "Go do your work flowerboy, Joy will be mad if she sees you here."
His sea-coloured eyes remained focused on Joy's sleeping form, flecks of determination igniting in them.
I sighed wearily and got up from the sofa to stand directly in front of him. "Go. She told me to look out for you, I can't disappoint her."
His jaw clenched tightly as he sat there stubbornly, refusing to get up.
"Fine, sit here doing nothing. She'll be super proud of you," I said sarcastically and his lips pursed into a grim line. I continued, "You have work to do, you can't ignore that. JJ wouldn't want that." Finally, he got up, gritting his teeth. "Go."
He glared at me and I gave him an apologetic smile. He kept turning back again and again while leaving, looking conflicted to check on Joy. She slept on the bed peacefully, her eyes sunken and her cheeks hollow. She stirred once in her sleep and Logan came running back, a wild fear evident in his eyes.
"She's okay," I whispered, blocking him from entering the room as he tried to push me. "Hey, hey, hey, nothing's wrong."
He stared over my shoulder and after a long look of seeing her sleep calmly, he reluctantly and stiffly walked away.
I was impressed by him in all honesty. He stayed the entire time every day until one of us kicked him out. He spent the nights in the sleeping area since generally mum occupied the pull out bed in this room. He made sure he was always present when Joy opened and closed her eyes.
Joy slept almost seventeen hours a day and woke up drenched in cold sweat. Sometimes, she was confused and it took her a moment or two to realize who we were. Other times, she woke up with laboured breathing like she had escaped a ghastly nightmare, but she said that her dreams were always pleasant. The morphine helped her sleep comfortably.
Her body looked tiny on the colossal bed and it pinched me on the inside to see her life diminishing day by day. There was a grey pallor to her face and her knuckles and collarbones protruded like door knobs. Her wispy hair poked in different directions and she always looked at us with droopy eyes like she was half-dreaming. Still, I never heard her complain once and it made me proud to have such a strong little sister.
After some time of reading a book with Gemma for distraction, mum arrived. I slipped outside for some fresh air, to empty my heart of all the worries. I paced in the silent yard for a few minutes then proceeded to the lobby area. When I reached the main entrance of the hospice care centre, I noticed a figure hunched over at the end of the stairs, sitting alone in the dark under the midnight blue, velvety sky. I curiously shuffled closer and it was none other than Logan looking acutely distressed.
"You didn't go?" I asked quietly and he didn't reply, his head buried in his hands. It was cold and I was afraid in his papery shirt, he would freeze to death. I placed my hand on his shoulder and he became rigid. "Come in now, I bet you feel like shit out here. You can stay in as long as you like, no one will bother you."
He glanced up at me slowly, his face red either from the cold or crying.
"Will s-she make it till christmas?" he asked in a broken voice and I swallowed hard.
"We'll ask the nurse." I offered him my hand and he took it, getting up. "Do you have your sweater?"
He rubbed his puffy eyes tiredly, but a small smile touched his lips. "Joy's wearing it, she loves that sweater."
"You don't have any other . . . " I trailed off, inspecting his face and it did seem he didn't have any spare sweaters at home. He was poor, but I didn't know he was so poor. And now that he was skipping work . . . God save him. "I have another jacket in there, you can take it."
We entered the building together and when Jasmine nurse passed by, I hastily called her. "I wanted to talk to you."
She examined both of us and then gaped at Logan anxiously. "Logan dear . . . Are you okay?"
He tugged at his sleeves awkwardly. "Yeah. I . . . We wanted to ask if-if Joy---"
"Will my sister live to see Christmas?" I interrupted bluntly, my heart pounding against my chest.
The nurse's features eased. "We can't predict anything as of now. But if she thinks so, she will. Don't stress about it too much. I have seen patients like Joy- patients with a certain kind of fire in them. They don't get defeated once their mind is set. Just keep taking care of her."
I honestly felt a bit uneasy, but a little relieved too. The nurse's belief assured me, it assured Logan too. So we thanked her and stalked to Joy's room.
Joy was awake when we came and Logan immediately rushed to her side, peppering light kisses and mumbling things that made the ghost of a smile appear on Joy's worn out face.