Chapter 1
“It seems like I’m always falling
Either falling down
Or falling short
Or the worst one:
Falling in love.”
- k.k. Artie
Chapter 1
Neil couldn’t stand the smell of hospitals.
The pungent air of antiseptic, latex gloves, and suffering with the cloying aromas of perfumes, sprays, and scented candles used by the receptionists as a poor attempt at masking it all was suffocating to him.
The smell reminded him of when he’d visited his best friend, Charlie, after he had his appendix removed in elementary school. The days he’d joined his parents to check in on his grandmother when she’d had a stroke shortly after he started sixth grade. The period of his life, from late middle school to early high school, when he had been forced by his father to shadow nursing students at their local clinic in Vermont. His entire summer before his sophomore year had been spent interning as a laboratory technician at another hospital thanks to his father’s connections with one of the surgeons— Dr. Danbury. The week he’d laid inside a hospital after his failed suicide attempt his junior year, when he’d drastically missed his temple and wounded his right shoulder instead.
Neil has always had a negative association with hospitals.
His first year at university, he’d sliced his hand rather badly while cutting raw bell peppers and had narrowly avoided going to the emergency room after a great amount of pleading— much to Knox’s dismay.
He, however, could not evade a trip to Mount Sinai’s Hospital given his current situation.
Roughly three-and-a-half hours prior, around seven PM, he had taken the subway from Long Island City to Times Square for a blind date that Charlie and Knox had set up for him last week that he’d begrudgingly agreed to. It had been the ninth blind date his friends had arranged without him asking. While his best friend insisted they just wanted to see him happy, Neil knew the real reasons. One, was because he was twenty-two, a recent graduate from NYU, and hadn’t ever been in a steady relationship. He’d done his fair share of hookups, experimenting, and one night stands throughout college, but nothing serious evolved from those brief moments of intimacy. Second, was because he was living in Knox and Charlie’s guest bedroom and has been mooching off of them since he’d graduated in December, two months ago.
His two closest friends had offered for him to move in with them in their apartment in Long Island and repeatedly told him they didn’t care how long he stayed, but Neil could read them both easily— they wanted him gone. He wasn’t upset, though. Charlie and Knox had every right to want him out of their shared apartment, considering the pair were a couple— he’d feel the same way if he were in their shoes. Neil hadn’t been the slightest bit surprised when the two had ended up together their second year at NYU after dancing around each other’s feelings all of high school. He had been the first to know in their friend group, and had been delighted that they’d finally gotten their heads out of their asses. And he may or may not have been, and maybe still was, quite envious of how accepting their parents were of the new development. His father never approved of his “homosexual tendencies” meanwhile Charlie and Knox could flaunt their relationship with no remorse. It was bittersweet for him.
Either way, the blind dates had become a constant recurrence. Neil had arrived at a restaurant called ‘Burger & Lobster’ and met up with a man that had been in the same economics course as Knox at NYU. The guy was good-looking and had seemed friendly and approachable. The date had started off decently enough with the usual casual greetings and weirdly formal introductions. The food had been delicious, the waitress had been easygoing, the conversation had flowed relatively smoothly, and the overall service had been excellent. However, the night had abruptly turned sour when his date, Derrick, made a distasteful joke about how Neil would never land a worthwhile career in acting. When he had told his date he didn’t appreciate the jab at his passions, Derrick had instantly become defensive and declared that he was wasting his time and money on an “unrealistic pursuit”.
The conversation had been eerily similar to ones he’s had with his father many times before, and always succeeded in majorly pissing him off.
The date had ended with the two of them arguing, then giving each other the cold shoulder as they paid for their meals separately. Needless to say, Neil did not suggest a second date and promptly blocked the man’s number the second he’d left the restaurant. He’d even shot Charlie and Knox a text in their group chat requesting that they stop setting him up on any more dates. He could only handle so much disappointment going out on fruitless dates with strangers every single week. He ignored the messages he received in return asking what had gone wrong. Neil didn’t have the heart to tell his friends that maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t meant for a relationship. Perhaps he was destined to live a life alone while watching longingly as everyone else found their person to fall in love with. He had no intention of continuing with hookups, but whatever higher being that ruled his existence seemed to think that was all he’d ever be— a faceless gay man for another man to explore for one night then leave the next morning without a goodbye.
While Neil enjoyed the sexual pleasure, he longed for more.
He wished to find someone that he could talk to for hours and never grow bored. To take on romantic dates and cook tasty meals for just the two of them. To surprise with little gifts and thoughtfully placed sticky notes around their shared apartment. To watch movies together, to hold hands as they strolled Broadway, to pull close to him on chilly winter nights. To drink cheap wine together, to laugh at stupid inside jokes with, to shower with pure affection and gentle kisses and whisper to them sweet nothings. To have someone in bed with him to lounge around and swap stories from their day and not just for sex. He wanted to find someone who cared about him with equal intensity and matching admiration.
Was that too much to ask? Was he asking for the impossible?
He had begun wandering along the streets surrounding Times Square around eight-thirty, avoiding the subway station because he simply did not have the energy to discuss how the date had unfolded with Charlie and Knox. Past nine at night, he had been meandering W 38th street. And as he had drawn closer to the intersection, he witnessed a person ambling along the crosswalk when the sign flashed the bright white image confirming that it was safe for pedestrians to cross. While New York was the city that never sleeps, it was a Monday night in early February with an impending cold snap and back-to-back snow storms forecasted for later in the week. The sidewalks and roads had been nearly empty as the city settled down for the evening— a rare glimpse of peace amidst the normal chaos.
The peace was shattered quite suddenly, though.
What Neil hadn’t expected on his walk was for a pickup truck driving well above the speed limit to come barreling around the corner, completely run their red light, and violently slam into the unsuspecting pedestrian. The sounds of a short, startled yell, tires screeching, and the nauseating crunching and thumping of tons of metal hitting a singular body still echoed through his mind like a broken record player. Neil had stood, frozen in shock and horror, as he watched the driver behind the wheel sloppily back up their vehicle, swerve exaggeratedly while running up a curb and ramming a street lamp, then flee down a different street without even pausing or checking on the person they had hit. They were one-hundred-percent inebriated with how erratic they had acted. As the truck vanished, he had shaken out of his stupor and sprung into action. He had dialed 9-1-1 with shaking hands and quickly informed the woman who answered the line about the incident that had just happened.
While he had his phone pressed to his ear, he carefully approached the unconscious, sprawled out figure lying in the middle of the road. The force of the truck hitting them had caused them to fly several feet away from where they had been originally crossing on the walkway. Neil’s stomach had churned aggressively as beheld twisted limbs, a contorted torso, and a frightening amount of blood. He was fortunate he had a strong stomach or else his dinner would’ve made a disastrous reappearance. The dispatcher on the phone had asked him if the victim was breathing, and Neil’s panic had struck him full force. He hadn’t been able to tell if the victim was breathing, and he had been too scared to search for a pulse in case he made matters worse.
Oh god, he had thought. What if they’re dead?
The dispatcher had vigilantly reassured him that police and an ambulance were on their way, and within seconds Neil had heard the sirens then saw the recognizable flashing red and blue lights. The rest was a bit blurry after that. The three policemen that had spoken to him had him sit down on the sidewalk because he hadn’t realized how forcibly he was trembling as he babbled to them his witness report. He had given the cops details about the truck’s make and model, vague descriptions on the driver, and unsure recollections of the license plate number. He distinctly remembered a lot of radio chatter, but of what? He couldn’t recall. He had caught out of the corner of his eye the paramedics gently lifting the victim into the ambulance on a gurney, and spotted sandy-colored hair for a split second.
He remembered that the police had thanked him, he remembered numbly reciting his name, age, address, and contact information. He remembered one of the cops telling him that they’d reach out to him again in regards to the criminal investigation, the charges, and possible court dates. Neil didn’t remember anything else after that. He didn’t even remember how he had managed to follow the ambulance to Mount Sinai Hospital. A taxi? An Uber? Did one of the cops drive him? He has no clue. He’d never been so disoriented in his whole life up until now. He had stumbled through the front entrance of the building and dazedly questioned the receptionist about a recent hit-and-run victim. The woman at the counter had asked him for a name and his relation to the patient, and when Neil had blankly stared at her in response she had irritably commanded him to take a seat in the waiting room.
That was how he found himself at the hospital, the current time nearing eleven PM, sitting on an uncomfortable plastic chair that squeaked obnoxiously every-time he shifted his weight.
The waiting room had several people, but wasn’t overwhelmingly full. His left leg jiggled up and down repetitively with a nervous fervor. He couldn’t believe the turn of events that tonight had sprung on him. His brain was racing as he wondered if the police had caught the driver yet. There had to have been surveillance cameras and video footage of the incident from the shops and restaurants in the area. Surely they’d be arrested for vehicular assault. There was also no way they hadn’t been intoxicated, which meant a DUI charge, too. And if the person they struck died, then they'd be accused of vehicular manslaughter which could result in fifteen years of imprisonment. But Neil hoped, not so much for the driver’s sake but for the victim’s, that they survived. Although, it hadn’t seemed promising back at the scene of the crime. Good grief what he’d witnessed was going to haunt his dreams for years to come— he just knew it.
He’d need to send his therapist a text message at some point.
His fingers itched to reach for his cellphone resting in his coat pocket, but he knew he'd end up googling and scouring local news reports for updates and wander down a rabbit hole. His phone was also only on seventeen percent, and he didn’t have hindsight to bring a charger with him before he’d left for his date. He should conserve his battery, so he fiddled with the magazine rack on the small table beside him. He mindlessly flipped through one with a bunch of ridiculous celebrity gossip on actors, actresses, artists, and influencers he somewhat recognized. He occasionally peeked at his watch and incessantly tapped his foot. His head jerked up every-time a name was called, which he soon realized was stupid of him because he didn’t even know the name of the victim, so he stopped looking up and willed himself to untense at least a little.
As he was uninterestedly reading a column about Jennifer Aniston, a couple came frantically bursting through the front hospital doors causing enough of a ruckus to garner Neil’s attention. He watched the pair as they hastily approached the receptionist’s desk. They appeared to both be in their late twenties or maybe their early thirties— if Neil were to guess. The woman was average height with dark, tanned skin, soulful brown eyes, and beautiful, curly black hair. The man was tall with a fair complexion, light brown eyes, chestnut colored hair, and stubble covering his cheeks, chin, and beneath his nose. Neil had to admit to himself— they were an attractive pair that donned shiny, matching wedding bands on each of their ring fingers. He also noticed that they both looked extremely frazzled and fraught with worry.
“How can I help you?” The receptionist asked politely.
“My brother was brought here probably a little over an hour ago,” the man responded urgently, sounding breathless. “His name is Todd. He was struck by a car on 38th street. I was told he was transported here.”
Neil perked up at that, sitting up straighter in his seat.
“And what is your name and relation?”
“My name is Jeffrey Anderson, this is my wife Heather Anderson-Davis. I’m his brother. Can we see him? I need to know if he’s okay,” the man, Jeffrey, pleaded as the receptionist tapped away on her keyboard. “Ma’am, please. Where can I see him? When can I see him?”
“I need the patient’s full name and date of birth.”
“Todd Abraham Anderson. He was born November 27th, 2004. He’s twenty years old.” Jeffrey quickly rattled off, voice shaking. “Please, ma’am, I need to know if he’s alive.”
Todd Anderson, Neil repeated to himself. Now I at least know his name.
“Do you have any parents or other relatives on the way as well?”
“No, just us. I’m his emergency contact.”
“Alright. Stay right here. I’m going to check if there’s any updates on the patient’s status.” The woman explained, the married couple nodded, and she stood up and disappeared around the corner.
Neil observed as Jeffrey wrung his hands together anxiously while his wife, Heather, rubbed at his shoulders in an effort to soothe him. He felt awful for them. He couldn’t imagine the stress of receiving news in the middle of the night that a family member had been in a serious accident. And by their slightly disheveled appearances, they must’ve been woken up by the police knocking on their doorstep and had to throw on clothes over their pajamas in order to race over to the hospital as soon as humanly possible.
The receptionist reappeared and the couple immediately gave her their full attention. “I’m sorry, Mr. Anderson, but your brother is still in surgery. With the severity of the accident, your brother arrived with life-threatening conditions, the operations being done will likely take several more hours.”
“Oh god,” Jeffrey croaked out, running his hands through his hair. Heather rested her hand on his back in silent support. “I- I can see him when he gets out of surgery, though, right?”
“Of course,” the receptionist replied kindly.
“Do you know when exactly that will be?” Heather piped up, managing to sound calm even though Neil could see the concern in her eyes.
“I’m sorry,” the receptionist shook her head and the pair deflated. “But it’s hard to say right now. I assure you that we’ll keep you posted, though. May I have your contact information?”
Neil stopped listening, not wanting to invade anymore than he already had, and stared at the picture of Ryan Gosling displayed across the page. He flicked through the magazine for a handful a minutes before he dared to peer out of his periphery as the husband and wife walked away from the front desk and snagged two chairs a few rows from his own.
He could leave. He could go back to Long Island, take a hot shower, and go to sleep so he’s not a zombie during his shift at his part-time job working in a tiny coffee shop in the morning. The family of the victim arrived, he knew his name, and he knew that he was in surgery. He had all the information he needed to exit the hospital with a good conscience, but a persistent nagging in his mind demanded he stay. Another voice in his mind insisted he speak with Jeffrey and Heather. But how? What would he say? Would he upset them further? He pictured himself on a tightrope. If he said one wrong thing, he’d go plummeting. He had to be cautious.
After internally debating with himself for multiple minutes, he decided to steel his nerves, screw his courage to the sticking place, and talk to the pair. He couldn’t go to bed without saying something to them. So, he took a deep breath, rose from his chair, and slowly walked up to the man and woman who were in the middle of what appeared to be a hushed discussion. As he drew closer, the pair paused their murmuring and peered up at him with expressions ranging from tired to annoyed to frustrated.
He swallowed nervously and cleared his throat. “Uh, hello.”
He cringed. Real smooth, Perry. Real smooth.
Jeffrey lifted a brow at him, eyeing him with suspicion, “can we help you?”
“Oh, um,” Neil was sweating. Why did the building feel a million degrees right now? “I overheard you talking to the receptionist.”
The older man bristled, “why were you listening?”
The woman placed a hand on his arm, “Jeff, calm down-”
“No,” he glowered at Neil. “He shouldn’t have been eavesdropping on other people’s business.”
“I’m sure there was a perfectly good reason-”
“Don’t defend him, Heather, that was a private conversation.”
“Well we were taking rather loudly in an open, public space-”
“But isn’t there hospital etiquette or common knowledge that you shouldn’t listen in on-”
“It- it wasn’t like that,” Neil said quickly, cutting them off, desperate to diffuse the increasing hostility. “I was the one that reported the incident to the police. The truck that hit your brother? I- I was the one who witnessed it.”
Just like that, the anger in the man’s eyes was gone and replaced with confusion. “What?”
“The hit-and-run on 38th street. I was there. I saw the whole thing happen,” Neil repeated, nervously tugging at the sleeves of his jacket.
He watched as the couple exchanged unreadable glances.
“You were the eyewitness?” Jeffrey asked, scrutinizing him. “Like, actually?”
Neil nodded. “A grey Ram 1500 pickup truck, the driver was speeding and likely drunk and appeared to be in their late fifties with lots of facial hair. Their New York license plate number had an x, 1, and 4 on it. I got to Mount Sinai shortly after the ambulance did.”
That had surely convinced them.
Heather’s eyes widened in disbelief, “you really were the one that called it in.”
Jeffrey stood up, and Neil had to fight the urge to step back. Was he going to punch him? Yell at him? Neil was six feet tall, but the man had at least three inches on him and considerably more muscle and weight. He didn’t stand a chance.
However, the man simply offered an outstretched hand. “Jeffrey Anderson. I prefer Jeff, though. Thank you for calling the police and sticking around. It means a lot.”
Surprised, Neil firmly shook Jeff’s hand. “Neil Perry, and it’s no problem. I just did what anyone else would do.”
“Oh don’t be modest,” Heather smiled as she also stood and shook his hand. “I’m Heather, Jeffrey’s wife. It’s lovely to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you, too,” he said earnestly. “I hope you don’t mind me intruding.”
“Oh, Neil, you don’t have to stay anymore,” Heather frowned. “You can go home and get some rest. It’s been an eventful night and you look exhausted. We appreciate you being here until we arrived.”
“Yeah,” Jeff nodded, agreeing. “Thank you again, Neil. Get home safe, okay?”
His heart dropped. He didn’t want to leave.
But that was what he’d been waiting to hear. He had complete leeway to leave. He had an excuse to escape the confines of the hospital’s overwhelmingly fluorescent lights and the acrid smell of sterilization. He could be in bed, nestled under his comforter, dressed in comfortable pajama pants instead of stiff jeans, and rest his weary bones.
So why was he hesitating?
“I would actually like to stay, if that’s alright?” He admitted to the pair. “I want to know how the surgery goes.”
“We can exchange numbers, then,” Heather offered, taking out her phone. “We’ll text you updates, Neil, I promise.”
“I don’t want the two of you to spend the night at the hospital alone.”
“That’s really thoughtful, but seriously, you should head home,” Jeffrey said.
“I- no,” he floundered, trying to explain. “I mean, I was- I was hoping I could get to see him with my own two eyes, you know? Just- just so I know and can confirm he’s okay. He looked like he was dea- um, like he was in really rough shape when I saw him right after the incident. Please. I'll get out of your hair, just say the word, but I- I can’t make myself leave quite yet without knowing.”
Neil felt pathetic, like a child begging his parents to let him stay up for twenty more minutes when it was already past bedtime.
He observed the couple stare at each other, having some kind of telepathic conversation that Neil didn’t have access to. He shouldn’t have said all of that. He should just go home.
Jeffrey turned to Neil, pulling him from his thoughts, “we’d be happy to have you hang around with us.”
He internally sighed in relief, and he smiled at them, “really? Thank you so much.”
“It’s the least we could do,” Heather smiled back. “It’s touching how much you care about someone you don’t even know.”
“Well,” Neil clicked his tongue. “My grandmother always said that strangers were just friends waiting to happen.”
Jeffrey let out a low chuckle, “that’s fair.”
The trio unanimously decided to sit back down and Neil placed himself across from Jeff and Heather.
“Well, Neil,” Jeff said, addressing him. “Since you’ll be accompanying us for the time being. I guess we oughta get to know each other.”
He nodded, “makes sense. Fire away.”
Jeff didn't hesitate to dive right in. “Are you originally from New York?”
“Nope. Moved here from Vermont.” And Neil sure as hell did not miss his hometown.
“Oh nice, I’m from Massachusetts, but Heather was born and raised in New York just outside of Brooklyn. What brought you to the Big Apple?”
“Got a full-ride at NYU. I graduated in December.” December felt like ages ago.
“Full-ride? That’s impressive. I went to Harvard Law and moved here for a job. Heather studied at Columbia and is now a professor there. What was your major?”
“Harvard and Columbia? Now that is impressive. I have a few friends currently enrolled at Columbia.” Neil vaguely wondered how Meeks, Pitts, and Cameron were doing. He should call them more often. “I majored in performance studies at their Tisch School of Arts and minored in dramatic literature.”
“Oh, wow, I heard those programs are very competitive. What’s your career goals?”
“I’m hoping to become an actor. Performing on Broadway is a personal goal of mine, but any acting opportunities is a win in my books.”
Jeff whistled. “You’re ballsy, Neil, but I admire that. I can appreciate someone who dedicates their life to the arts. It’s inspiring and you’re young. I’d bet money that you’ve got the work ethic and dedication. Plus, while you’ve got time, you should dream big.”
A part of Neil wanted to tear up at the older man’s words. There was something alleviating about hearing people, who weren’t his childhood friends, assure him that his potential wasn’t futile. That he wasn’t going to regret his choices when he’s old and grey in a nursing home. That he wasn’t disappointing his parents and throwing away a bright future. Jeff’s words were reinvigorating— rekindling the flame that was dimming inside of him as time marched on.
“Thank you,” he said solemnly.
“How old are you anyway? You can’t be older than twenty-five.”
“I’m twenty-two. I was born in ‘02.”
“Ah,” Jeff mused. “You’re practically a baby.”
“You can’t be that much older than me,” Neil argued jokingly.
“We aren’t,” Heather laughed. Neil was pleased that he’d distracted the couple from their earlier distress, as he noticed both seemed to have relaxed a fraction. “We’re both thirty. Although Jeff will be thirty-one next month.”
“Ugh,” Jeff rolled his eyes. “Don’t remind me. Todd has been teasing me relentlessly about being old.”
“Todd’s your brother, right?” Neil asked, even though he already knew the answer.
“Yeah,” Jeff’s amused expression faltered, and Neil suddenly felt guilty about bringing up the sore subject. “He’s ten years and eight months younger than me.”
“That’s a pretty big age gap,” Neil said, treading lightly.
“I bet you could imagine by surprise when my parents told me they were expecting,” Jeff chuckled, though it sounded strained. “I remember being so mad at first, but the second I laid eyes on my baby brother, well, it was impossible for me to stay mad at someone so small.”
Neil’s heart squeezed painfully in his chest at the tenderness in Jeff’s voice. His mother had wanted another child, but his father had been adamant about one being enough. Neil had mixed feelings about having a sibling, especially after hearing Meeks, Knox, and Cameron complain over and over about their younger and older siblings. However, viewing Jeff’s obvious love for his brother made Neil wish he did have a sibling he grew up alongside with.
“You and Todd must be really close despite the age difference,” he commented.
“We are,” Jeff whispered, voice cracking. “My friends referred to Todd as my ‘mini shadow’ because he wanted to be with me everywhere I went. I was lucky that my childhood home was located a short distance from Harvard’s campus, so I could still live there during undergrad and grad school. Sometimes Todd would roam the campus with me, and all my friends adored him. We were seen together more often than not.”
Neil didn’t dare interrupt the man, although he noticed tears forming in the corners of Jeff’s eyes.
“Even when life was shitty, I always had Todd. My bright spot. Our mom would call him her ‘little sun’. I was nicknamed ‘moon’, because even though we were polar opposites, we complimented each other well.” Jeff’s expression crumpled. “I don't know what I’m going to do if he doesn’t survive this.”
Neil found it a little hard to breathe as he bore witness to Jeff’s raw emotion and vulnerability. Heather swiftly snatched up tissues from her purse, and passed them to her husband.
“He’s going to be okay, Jeff. He’s going to pull through,” she comforted, rubbing his back. Neil felt like he was invading a private moment.
“You don’t know that,” the older man sniffled, dabbing at his eyes. “Shit, I’m a goddamn mess. I’m sorry you have to see this, Neil.”
“Don’t apologize,” he waved a hand at him. “Do you want me to give you guys some space?”
Heather looked like she was about to say yes when Jeff shook his head, wiping the remnants of his tears.
“I’m going to step outside for a minute. I just realized I should call my aunt before she sees it plastered on the news or in an article or something.” Neil got whiplash with how quickly Jeff managed to look like he hadn’t just been having a nervous breakdown.
“Are you sure, honey?” Heather asked, worried. “Do you want me to join you?”
“No, love, please stay here where it’s warm. I won’t be too long, I promise,” Jeff stood up then leaned down so he and his wife could quickly peck each other on the lips. The man was out the front doors with his phone pressed to his ear before Neil could blink.
He looked over at Heather as the woman sighed and rubbed at her temples.
“Are you alright?” He asked her.
“Yes and no,” she huffed. “I’m worried about Jeff. He’s never been that great at communicating all that troubles him, even after being together for seven years, and I just know that his brother being in the hospital and us having very minimal information has him at his wits’ end.”
“I’m so sorry,” Neil frowned. “I wish there was something I could do to help.”
“Neil,” she barked out a laugh. “You’re hanging around at a hospital, it’s probably well past midnight, with two people you just met while waiting for news about someone you don’t know. What more can you do? Your presence helps as it is.”
Neil nodded, feeling slightly better but still kind of useless.
Heather and Jeff have been incredibly kind despite recent events, although he was positive part of it has to due to the fact that he was the one who had witnessed and reported the incident, Neil found himself liking the married couple.
A question popped into his mind, “so, and you don’t have to answer this and I hope this doesn’t come across as rude, but how come it’s only you two?”
Heather furrowed her eyebrows, “what do you mean?”
“Well, um, are there no other relatives worried about Todd? Like his and Jeff’s parents?”
He hoped he wasn’t overstepping any invisible boundaries, but he was curious. Even though his relationship with his parents was strained, he also knew if anything were to happen to him they’d drop everything to head over and see him in the hospital. He also knew his aunts and uncles and his grandparents would do the same. They had all done that when he was in the hospital a few years ago. The waiting room was jam packed with his relatives. The sentiment would also be shared by his friends. While his friends all had varying relationships and attachments with their families, they’d also come sprinting to the hospital for them at the drop of a hat. And while Neil wasn’t naive to believe that every person who’d ever been admitted into a hospital had lots of people who’d come visit or sit in the waiting room, there was just something that felt wrong about only Jeff and Heather being here.
Heather outwardly winced, “well, that’s a rather complicated ordeal, but I’m not at all close with my family and never have been. They’re petty and self-absorbed, and I didn’t need that. They wouldn’t give a shit about someone on my husband’s side whether or not they're sick or injured or dying. So, I have very minimal contact with them. The only people I talk to regularly are my two sisters, and I know if I asked them to come to Mount Sinai they would, but I’m not going to reach out to them today.”
“I see.”
“And with Jeff’s family. Well, to be frank, their father is a grade-A asshole. Their mother passed away almost six years ago. Their uncle passed away three years ago. Their maternal grandfather passed away two years ago. Their maternal grandmother passed away last year. Their paternal grandparents passed when Jeff was still a kid. They also have their aunt, but she moved away to live in the mountains of Colorado after her husband died.”
“Oh.” Neil had no clue how to respond to that.
Heather sighed again. “Now you can see why Jeff is so torn up about his brother. It’s always been the two of them. So, the risk of Todd dying being so real is terrifying. Jeff has me, yes, but I’m afraid losing his brother will destroy him. They’ve already lost so much.” She hurriedly blinked away tears. “And Todd is like a little brother to me that I never had. I love him so much, and the thought of him not making it fills me with an insurmountable sense of pain. He’s so young. He’s the sweetest, most creative person I know with a huge heart. He doesn’t deserve to have his future ripped away from him because of a fucking drunk driver. He doesn’t deserve that. We don’t deserve that.”
“You don’t,” Neil whispered. “None of you deserve the shitty hand you’ve all been dealt. I can’t promise that I know the outcome when Todd’s surgery is over, but I can assure you that I’m here and I’m more than willing to offer all my support. You two don’t have to do this alone.”
Life was tragically unfair.
Heather gave a watery smile, “thank you. Has anyone ever told you that you’re a good person?”
“You’d be the first.”
“I find that hard to believe, Neil Perry. You’re no dime a dozen.”
Never has such a simple compliment made him beam so widely.
—-
Neil fell into an uneasy sleep around three in the morning.
Jeffrey had re-entered the building around one-thirty AM as Neil and Heather were chatting about their favorite shows and movies, and somehow looked more haggard and drained than an hour prior. As he had heavily plopped down next to Heather, he informed them that his aunt, named Vanessa, wouldn’t be able to fly out from Denver with the current snow storms in Colorado nor would she be able to fly into any of the surrounding airports the next few days due to the predicted snow storms. Which meant she wouldn’t be able to visit anytime soon, which had understandably infuriated both her and Jeff. The older man had promised his aunt that he would keep her updated about her youngest nephew.
To help distract Jeff from stewing in his frustrations, Heather and Neil had pulled him into the conversation. They’d spent the next hour jumping from topic to topic that ranged from recent books they’ve read to video games they disliked to watching funny videos on Heather’s phone. Jeff had occasionally hopped up from his chair to ask the receptionist about the surgery, but had been disappointed each time when she had no updates to give. Just the usual, “I’m sorry, sir, you’ll have to keep waiting. He’s still in surgery. I can’t say how much longer it will take.”
Neil had rambled to Heather and Jeff about his friends, his rocky relationship with his parents, tidbits from his past and his childhood, how growing up in Vermont was. He had told them about the all-boys preparatory school, Welton Academy, he had attended from sixth to twelfth grade. He had told them he graduated third in his class, Meeks being Valedictorian and Cameron being Salutatorian. He had not told them that he’d given a spirited speech at graduation about “seizing the day” to honor his junior year English teacher, Mr. John Keating, who had been fired after his suicide attempt. His teacher had been blamed for his “rebellious behavior” and his “cry for attention” after he “encouraged” Neil to audition for Henley Hall’s winter production of Shakespeare’s, A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Mr. Keating had inevitably moved back to London to reunite with his wife, but Neil missed the man dearly. They still exchanged emails from time to time.
Neil would always be furious with headmaster Nolan, his parents, and the school board for giving Mr. Keating the pink slip when it hadn’t been his teacher’s fault.
If anything, it had been his father’s fault.
Jeff had ended up dozing off from the conversation around two-forty-five in the morning, then Heather soon followed a few minutes after. Neil had thought they looked wildly uncomfortable sleeping on the plastic chairs of the waiting room, but they didn’t have any other options. He had surprised himself when his eyes began slipping shut, too. He had hoped to stay awake so they wouldn’t miss the news of Jeff’s brother getting out of surgery, but the quiet calmness of the hospital paired with the dimmed waiting room lights and factoring in the warmth from the hospital’s heaters encasing the building had lulled him straight to sleep.
He had woken up several times between four and five in the morning, but had plunged back into sleep fairly quickly each time.
He was, however, jolted out of his slumper to someone lightly tapping his shoulder. He blearily blinked up and squinted at the figure towering over him. He clumsily lifted one of his hands and rubbed at his eyes, blinking away the sleep-filled haze and crustiness. Once his vision adjusted and Jeff’s expectant face came into view, Neil was instantly on alert as he sat up straighter. His neck twinged with soreness and back ached fiercely at how awkwardly he had positioned himself while he slept. He looked around and saw that Heather and the receptionist were both standing behind Jeff. The receptionist was a different woman, likely having swapped with the previous woman as shifts changed from overnight to morning.
Shifts.
Fuck, his eyes widened. What time was it? He hadn’t called out from work yesterday for today.
“Neil,” he flicked his focus back on the man, halting his inner turmoil. “Todd’s out of surgery.”
Whatever thoughts he had were immediately out the window as he registered Jeff’s words, and he clambered to his feet. He didn’t say a word, still shaking off his exhaustion, as he silently trailed after Jeff, the receptionist, and Heather. He felt his breath quicken as they were led through doors and corridors. His gaze lingered on the sign that labeled the wing they were entering as the “Intensive Care Unit”. They approached a fatigued-looking doctor and the receptionist broke away from them with a nod of her head as Jeff and Heather hastily thanked the woman. Neil felt nauseous. The ICU was for patients with life-threatening conditions or serious illnesses, because they required close monitoring and around-the-clock care. Neil had managed to evade the ICU wings at hospitals during his years shadowing and his summer internship, but after shooting his shoulder with his father’s gun that was stashed in his office, he had spent three days in the ICU due to drastic blood loss.
He had a feeling Jeff’s brother would remain in the ICU for far longer than three days.
The doctor held a clipboard and wore a grim expression, which had Neil’s stomach dropping to the floor. That was never a good sign. Jeff must’ve had identical presumptions, because the man started wringing his hands at a feverish pace. Heather grabbed one of her husband’s hands and held it, rubbing her thumb across the back of Jeff’s hand in a soothing motion. Neil felt a flash of envy at the sight. Jeff and Heather had a love Neil could only read about in novels.
“Hello,” the doctor greeted. Her radiant smile did little to ease their nerves. “I’m Dr. Payton Kelly. You’re all immediate family to Todd Anderson?”
Neil’s breath hitched. Shit. Did he need to leave?
“Yes, we are,” Heather reaffirmed confidently, subtly winking at Neil. He exhaled.
Crisis averted.
“Perfect,” Dr. Kelly nodded. “I will be Todd’s primary doctor until further notice. I apologize for the delay. No one ever wants to wait through an almost eight-hour long surgery to hear about how a loved one is doing. The first hour was spent stabilizing him enough to operate. We did have to resuscitate twice. With the extent of his injuries from the accident, we had to perform several operations— all tedious and some more intricate than others. But the surgeries went as beautifully as we could expect.”
“How bad is it? Is he going to make it? Can we see him now?” Jeff bombarded the doctor with questions, squeezing Heather’s hand tightly.
Dr. Kelly held up a hand and the man clamped his mouth shut. “You’re Jeffrey, my patient’s brother, is that correct?”
“Yes ma’am.”
“I will start by telling you that yes, your brother is alive.”
The relief from Jeff and Heather was palpable as he watched the couple embrace with joy. Neil hadn’t expected Jeff to release his wife and pull him into a hug as well. While it was slightly awkward, Neil couldn’t help but smile at the glee on the man’s face. He and Heather also hugged briefly in elation. The happiness from the pair was infectious, as the doctor smiled at them.
“I’m sorry to put a damper on this celebration,” Dr. Kelly said, sounding genuinely apologetic. Neil, Jeff, and Heather all sobered up as they stood and faced the medical professional with rapt attention. “But I must emphasize with you all that the first twenty-four hours are crucial in determining the trajectory of recovery. The survival rate of an accident this severe is less than thirty-one percent. In a few hours, his body could give up and he could rapidly decline. But we’re hoping that if his vitals stay stable tonight, his chances of survival will increase.
The recovery process will not be easy, though. It’ll be long, and there will be no clear timeline. It’s very likely one day you’ll see massive improvements, then the next day see no progress. There will be setbacks and relapses, but don’t be discouraged. That’s all part of the healing journey. Your brother is extremely strong, and I have high hopes that he’ll pull through tonight and continue to trend upwards. It’s difficult to see someone you love deeply in a lot of pain or struggling, but we assure you we have a fantastic medical team that will be aiding in Todd’s recovery and doing all that they can to ensure he’s comfortable and thoroughly cared for.”
The three of them nodded, afraid to speak. Their jubilation had been sapped out of them faster than lightning. Neil’s head was reeling at the leap from good news to bad news.
“I will also list to you the injuries Todd sustained,“ she continued, scanning the clipboard in her grasp. “But just remember that he was struck head-on by a vehicle weighing more than four tons and driving over fifty miles per hour. Historically, most accidents like that are fatal.”
Neil did his best to listen to the unending file of injuries and what surgeries had been performed to treat and alleviate them. He struggled to keep up with the amount of medical jargon and how quickly the doctor spoke, but he felt like it wasn’t his place to ask her to stop or reiterate.
He heard mention of several broken ribs that had splintered and punctured his right lung causing it to collapse. A collapsed lung also increased the chances of infection and developing pneumonia. Todd was placed on a mechanical ventilator to take the physical stress away of inflating and deflating his lungs on his own. The fractured ribs also punctured his spleen, liver, and one of his kidneys. They had to remove his spleen and kidney, and repair the liver laceration. While a rarity, he also experienced fracturing in his lower ribs that had also ripped into his stomach and intestines. Todd had significant internal bleeding that required several incisions to his stomach and chest in order to suture up the leaking blood vessels. They had to insert a nasogastric (NG) tube in order to medicate, feed, and drain excess air and liquids from his stomach.
He heard mention of a broken tibia and fibula in the right leg. As well as a broken left elbow with fractures in several spots and a broken left wrist. All required surgery for repairing the broken bones, and hard casts around the sites. He had also received stitching in several areas due to the headlights of the car shattering from the impact. The deepest cuts being across his cheek and above the eyebrow. He has a bruised tailbone and bruises all across his body from being thrown several feet. While Todd’s ribs had taken the brunt of the impact from the truck, his head had hit the ground first when he was flung backwards.
He heard mention of a traumatic brain injury. Todd had fractured his skull and experienced a brain bleed. A craniotomy was done which involved an incision along the scalp and the use of a special saw to remove a section of the skull to drain the blood, relieve pressure, and treat the source. Todd was being given sedatives for a medically induced coma to allow his brain trauma time to recuperate. Neil visibly recoiled as Dr. Kelly described the necessary procedures for a brain injury. He had to give mad props to Jeff and Heather, because the two were taking the onslaught on information like champs. Although, the two had vice-like grips on each other’s hand and Jeff’s face was losing color with each injury and surgery the doctor listed off. Neil definitely didn’t capture everything Dr. Kelly said, but he’d heard enough to know that it was bad bad.
When their doctor finished and lowered her clipboard, she asked if anyone had questions. Neil wasn’t sure he could formulate a sentence no matter how hard he tried. Heather and Jeff also remained silent and stoic.
“Well, since there’s no questions. Are you ready to see him?”
Jeff and Heather eagerly nodded, but Neil’s heart thudded with anxiety. Was he ready to see the person he’d witnessed get hit by a car? To have a face to go with the name and the accident?
Neil braced himself as the doctor instructed them to wear face masks and thoroughly wash their hands due to Todd’s immune system being compromised. He tensed as they walked to a room in the ICU with the words “Patient: Todd Anderson” displayed on the door. The doctor solidly knocked on the door, which was swiftly opened by a petite statured nurse in dark blue scrubs wearing latex gloves.
“This is Shayna. She’ll be Todd’s head nurse to monitor his vitals, administer medications, check his bandages, and clean his incision sites. There will also be other nurses to help with changing sheets, bathing, collecting samples, etc., but Shayna is your girl if you have questions or concerns.” Dr. Kelly explained, and Shayna waved at them.
As the nurse disappeared back inside the room, Dr. Kelly stepped aside and gestured for him, Jeff, and Heather to enter the room. Jeff was practically vibrating with anticipation. Meanwhile, Neil held his breath as he hovered behind Heather and padded through the doorway with the couple.
Jeff’s reaction was immediate. The man released a choking noise, as he covered his mouth, and rushed to the prone figure laid out on the large hospital bed.
“Todd,” Jeff cried out brokenly. “Oh, Todd.”
Heather lingered close to Jeff, muttering quiet assurances of “it’s okay. He’s okay. He’s in a medically induced coma. He’s alive.”
Neil froze in the doorway.
The man on the bed looked far too young to be an adult— dwarfed by the size of the bed and the thousands of machines and wires he was attached to. The sounds of beeping and the technology of the life support systems whirring could barely be heard over the blood rushing in his ears. Todd had a thick white cast wrapped around his right leg that was sticking out of the stark white blankets and sheets, and propped up with just his toes peeking out. His left arm also had a thick white cast made to keep the limb up and aligned in a specific angle to ensure proper healing. There were bandages all over his right arm. The man miraculously hadn’t sustained any injuries to his neck, which appeared unmarred compared to the rest of his body.
Neil hesitantly walked further into the room, towards the foot of the bed.
Jeff’s brother was ghostly pale, almost blending in with the sheets. Neil’s eyes travelled upwards to Todd’s head. The lower half of his face was covered by the endotracheal tube and NG tube. His right cheek was bandaged, as well as his forehead above his left eyebrow. The lack of color in the man’s cheeks was unnerving to him. His eyelashes were dark and long, brushing across the apple of his cheeks. Neil vaguely wondered if Todd’s eye-color was the same as his brother’s. He noted the prominent freckles smattered across his nose and spread out into lighter dots across his cheeks that Neil found mesmerizing. His vision floated up to Todd’s hair, which fell across his forehead messily. He found that the sandy, blonde color of his hair suited him. Jeff’s family was definitely blessed with attractive genetics— that’s for sure.
His attention was snatched away when Dr. Kelly spoke from the doorway.
“You can hold his hand if you’d like, and I advise talking to him, reading to him, even playing him his favorite music. While he may not consciously perceive what you’re saying or what exactly he’s hearing, a familiar voice provides positive stimulation. Research even shows that it can aid in the recovery process.”
Neil didn’t know that. But he had also never helped with patience in comas. He had been mostly given boring tasks of changing sheets, sterilizing tools, folding laundry, and staring at radiographs where he had no idea what he was looking for.
Dr. Kelly announced that she had to leave, having paperwork to complete, and the trio thanked her and bid her farewell. She reminded them that she’ll be back to check-in.
After she left, he watched as Jeff carefully clasped his hand around his younger brother’s, mindful of the cannula and pulse oximeter.
“I’m here, Todd. It’s your big brother, Jeff. I’ve got you,” the man’s voice wavered and Neil’s heart ached.
He was startled when Heather popped up at his side and nudged him.
“Let’s give them some privacy, shall we?”
He nodded and he and Heather shuffled out of the room. The head nurse, Shayna, and a few other nurses entered and exited the room in an organized rotation and paid them no mind. Neil and Jeff’s wife stood out in the hallways, and he leaned against the wall, closing his eyes with a weary sigh. He was running off of maybe three hours of sleep.
Wait.
His eyes flew open as he scrambled for his phone in his pocket while Heather ogled him like he was some sweaty-toothed madman.
Shit, he cursed to himself. His phone was dead.
He checked his watch. It was well past eight in the morning. His shift at the coffee shop was supposed to start at seven. A no call, no show meant termination of his job. For some reason, Neil didn’t actually care as much as he thought he would (or should) about getting fired. He did, however, need his phone to not be dead in case the police had tried to contact him. He’d have to go to Charlie and Knox’s apartment, shower, change his clothes, and snag a phone charger. He didn’t want to leave, but he felt quite nasty.
“Neil?”
Heather’s voice spooked him out of his thoughts.
“Sorry, what’s up?”
“Are you alright?”
He almost wanted to burst out laughing at the switch in roles. Hours ago he’d been the one asking if she was okay.
“Yes,” he ran a hand through his hair and grimaced at its greasy texture. “I just realized my phone is dead and I desperately need a shower. So I think I might head back to my apartment then come back when I’m less defunct.”
“Ah,” Heather crossed her arms. “That’s probably for the best. We’re not going anywhere, although I might take our car, swing by home, and grab an overnight bag for us as well as some sources of entertainment.”
“That sounds good,” Neil nodded. “I might take a nap, because those waiting room chairs ruined my spine.”
“You deserve a nap,” she chuckled. “But yeah, take a shower, get some rest. Here,” Heather rummaged through her purse for a notepad and pen. “Write down your number, and I’ll keep you updated. I don’t want you to feel like you have to live at the hospital. We really, really do appreciate you. We may have only met yesterday, but I’d consider us friends now.”
Neil grinned as he accepted the pen and paper and jotted down his digits, then passed it all back to the woman. “Thank you. I’ll catch you later. Tell Jeff that I’ll be back. I can maybe bring you guys something to eat, if you’d like?”
“You’re a saint, Neil,” Heather hugged him, which was much less awkward than the one before. “Get home safe.”
The two waved at each other. Neil was tempted to peek through the window at Jeff and Todd, but decided against it. As he navigated the halls back to the waiting room, he nodded at Shayna and Dr. Kelly. The second he stepped outside, the biting cold of February weather in New York slapped him and nipped at his nose and cheeks. He wrapped his coat around his body tighter, and buried his hands into his armpits to protect his fingers from freezing.
He took a deep breath.
He began his trek to the subway station.
What the fuck is even my life?
A cruddy blind date leading to him befriending two strangers in a hospital was not on his 2025 bingo card.