Soft orange.
It was the first color of which he became conscious, the rest having slipped away with the stars. All too soon, the apricot hue loosened its embrace and Jo opened his eyes. It took him a few moments to realize where he was; the place looked familiar but he couldn't remember waking up here before. Staring at a plank slat above him, he noticed someone had carved a word into it. Sam.
Oh.
As he shifted in his brothers bunk, he began to notice other things. His body felt heavy, bound by invisible weights. There was a sharp pain in his left ribs that felt like someone had stabbed him and forgotten to remove the knife. Something cool was running up his arm and he lifted it to find an IV attached to a bag of fluids, hanging from a shirt hanger above his head.
I'm dreaming, he thought. This was all too strange to be real.
And then, she walked in.
Oh, I'm definitely dreaming.
This was an improvement. Dreaming usually meant nightmares, and they never contained anything as beautiful as her. She looked strangely familiar to him, though he couldn't place how. In real life, he'd never stare at anyone so openly, but this was a dream, and a very good one at that, so he took her in.
She was taller than average, her build somewhere between petite and athletic. Her hair was honey blonde and he could tell it was long, despite being pulled back in a ponytail. Her face was perfectly symmetrical, with a straight nose, high cheekbones, perfectly shaped rosebud lips, and her eyes...oh...those eyes. The most stunning shade of green. They jarred him and suddenly, he remembered her.
Oh, shit.
His eyes snapped down as he realized he'd been staring at this woman in broad daylight. He could hear her coming toward him and realized belatedly that he didn't have a shirt on. Clutching the sheet up to his chest, he couldn't figure out where to look when she knelt beside him.
"Hey there."
He could hear her smile.
"You're looking a whole lot better."
It all came back to him then. The clinic, the car ride home, seeing her in his doorway, the feeling of falling, and then...nothing. How long had he been asleep? Where were the boys?
"You've been out since last night," she said, reading his mind. "You had a pretty bad fever and a pneumothorax, a collapsed lung. That thing in your side is a chest tube. It's draining the fluid from your lung cavity so your lung can re-expand. It's not putting out much fluid now and your lungs sound pretty good, so I think we're safe to clamp it and then maybe take it out."
She paused, looking at him as if to see if he'd understood any of that. He'd had a chest tube before, when his dad had almost killed him for the last time, so he knew exactly what was going on, but he didn't tell her that. He snuck a glance up at her face and found an expression he couldn't read.
"The boys are at school right now, and I've just been hanging out with Johnny, who is also doing much better today."
As if on cue, Johnny began wailing in the other room, and Rachel, yes, that was her name, left to see to him. Jo used the opportunity to slide painfully out of bed, finding to his horror that he was wearing nothing but a frayed pair of boxers. He dressed himself hurriedly, ignoring the waves of dizziness, nausea, and stabbing pain that came over him. When Rachel returned with Johnny in her arms, he was reattaching the IV line to the catheter.
"Oh, you really shouldn't be up yet," she said, voice concerned. "I don't think you need the IV though. You can probably leave it off."
Jo did as she said and looped the line through the shirt hanger, not knowing what to do with himself. He wasn't used to being cared for. Questions flew through his head but he couldn't bring himself to ask them.
"How are you feeling?"
He raised his eyes just enough to glance at her, and dropped them again, gripping the bunkbed ladder with white knuckles.
"Fine," he said, barely above a whisper.
He'd demo'd buildings in worse condition than this. For him, "fine" was a choice.
"That might be a bit of a stretch."
She was smiling one of those sad smiles again.
Johnny had continued to cry in her arms and her rocking didn't seem to be doing much. Jo could see that she was tired. She'd likely stayed up all night and endless crying wore down even the most patient of souls. He could see it was starting to get to her so he approached cautiously and gently took the baby from her. She began to protest, but gave it up when she noticed how Johnny calmed almost instantly in his arms.
"I don't think he likes me," she said with a wry smile, combing her fingers through her ponytail.
"Nah, it's not you. He doesn't seem to like anyone. He's just used to me now."
"Does he miss his mom?"
Jo stiffened at the mention of her.
"He only knew her for a couple days so probably not."
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have brought that up..." she trailed off uncertainly.
"It's okay. He's better off without her."
For a moment, they stood, staring at the dozing child. Jo felt he should say something but had no clue how to make conversation in this situation, or any situation really.
"Are you hungry?" he tried, inwardly groaning at how stupid that sounded when said out loud.
She laughed. "Oh, no, I had oatmeal with your brothers this morning. Although, Mikey told me it wasn't as good as yours."
"I'm sorry. He shouldn't have-"
"No! No, it was cute. I think they're all worried about you. Drew didn't want to go to school and the, uh, the youngest...?"
"Adam."
"Adam held onto Drew's leg all morning. They didn't know what to think of me."
"I'm sorry. They're not used to visitors. Or...you know...*cough*...um...women."
She laughed again, and he found himself liking the sound of it more each time, despite the fact it was directed at his stupidity.
"They're great boys. Really sweet. How long have you had them?"
"'Bout 13 years."
"13 years?! There's no way! You don't look a day over 25."
Jo ducked his head in embarrassment, wondering if she thought him unfit to raise children at his age. She wouldn't be the first.
"How old are you then?"
"23," he answered quietly.
She paused then, obviously doing the math in her head. Her eyes widened. She was quiet for a bit, and Jo found the awkwardness unbearable.
"So you're a nurse?" he asked to break the silence and change the subject.
"Yeah, for about 3 years now. We're the same age you know."
Same age, yes. That was where their similarities stopped. Jo hoped she wouldn't ask the question he knew was on her lips.
"What do you do?"
Damn.
"I, uh, I work construction during the day, and at the bolt factory at night."
Come on, it's not like she thought you were an architect or a CEO. Look around you. Look in the mirror.
"That's a lot... Do you ever sleep?"
He looked at her then, seeing nothing of the condescension he'd expected in her eyes. Those eyes... Tearing his gaze away and casting his eyes to the floor where they belonged, he tried to remember the question.
"Yeah, enough."
He was turning into quite the liar these days.
"Hey, why don't you sit, okay? You look like you're about to fall over."
He followed her order and she knelt next to him.
"Can I check the tube?"
He nodded, but still tensed as she went to lift his shirt. Her hands stopped as she looked up at him, but he didn't meet her gaze. She continued gently and his cheeks burned red, knowing what she was seeing. What she had already seen.
"The seal is still intact and it's barely draining. I'm going to clamp the tube and disconnect it from the drainage canister. Tell me if you experience increased shortness of breath or pain when I clamp it."
Clamping and disconnecting, she observed his chest and then his face.
"Doing okay?"
He nodded, tensing again as she maneuvered her stethoscope around the dozing baby to listen to his lungs.
"Everything sounds good. We should be able to take it out later today, as long as nothing changes. You're actually doing better than I'd expected given that your baseline condition was-"
She stopped suddenly, and he looked at her then, curious.
"Was what?" he asked softly, wondering if he wanted to know the answer.
It was her turn to blush.
"I...uh...you...well, you don't seem to be in the best of health....generally."
When he continued to stare at her, she hurried on in a professional yet strangely soothing voice.
"Clinically speaking, you're chronically malnourished, dehydrated, fatigued, in pain, and under high amounts of stress and that's just what I can see."
Jo dipped his head once again, coloring deeply at her words, and then deeper still when his stomach growled loudly at the mention of malnutrition. He wished then that the earth would open up and swallow him whole. She stood abruptly and took a step back, surveying him.
"When was the last time you ate?" she asked quietly.
Jo closed his eyes and took a deep breath, reminding himself that jumping out the window wasn't an option.
"A few days."
It was going on a week now, but she didn't need to know that.
She turned on her heels and walked out of the room. Jo practically collapsed with exhaustion and shame. What must she think of him? Was she regretting being here? She had to be. She had save his life and, more importantly, Johnny's life, and here he was whining about being hungry. He thought of the nearly empty peanut butter jar and the measly twelve dollars it contained. Such a small amount would no doubt be insulting to her, but it was the very least he could do.
He stood painfully,wincing at the stab in his side, and walked into the main area of the apartment. Rachel was in the kitchen, surveying a depressingly bare cupboard.
"I was going to make you something to eat, but-"
"Don't worry about it. You've done enough."
She turned to him.
"I'm sorry, I don't mean to overstep. I just thought-"
"No, I'm sorry, I...you don't understand. You've done way more than you had to, than anyone else would have. There's no way I can even begin to repay you. I'm sure you have much better things to be doing with your time."
"It's been no trouble. Honestly. I-"
She was cut off by the door opening and a brood of children stampeding though it. Adam caught sight of Jo and ran forward, slamming into his legs with a hug, causing Jo to wince and stifle a groan. He reached down to ruffle the boy's hair and was immediately surrounded by the other boys, who were all vying for his attention. Drew finally called them off.
"Guys, back off. He can barely stand up."
Jo hadn't realized it until Drew said something, but he did feel near to collapsing again. Johnny had awoken in all the commotion and Jo hid the dizziness by preparing a bottle for the squalling infant. The boys chattered to him, catching him up on all he'd missed. One by one, they realized Rachel was standing by and became silent again. Jo turned and saw them gawking openly at her.
"You boys have met Rachel already?" There was a collective nod. "Then say hi to her, don't just stand there like meerkats," he said gently with a hint of a smile.
It didn't take the boys long to warm up to her; soon they were talking over each other in an attempt to beguile her with their stories. Jo took this opportunity to sit and feed the baby, feeling better while off his feet.
Soon, they dragged the poor woman to their room to show her their meager collection of toys and books. Drew stayed behind, shooting worried glances at him when he thought Jo wasn't looking.
"Drew, I'm fine," he said quietly.
"Jo, you scared the shit out of me!"
"Don't say shit-"
"Jo! You almost died. If she hadn't come, you would have."
Jo was quiet for a moment.
"I'm sorry, kiddo."
"Just...please...don't scare me like that again. I don't know what we'd do without you, Jo."
Jo stood shakily and pulled Drew into his side, hugging him tightly. Holding two of his brothers, he allowed himself to consider just how close he'd come to failing them once again. It was a fine line he walked to care for them and he'd almost slipped.
In the rare quiet of the kitchen, he silently vowed to do better, to be better.
If not for himself, then for his boys.