Page 38 of Heart Strain

“What?” Holds mumbles, tears hovering along his lower lids. As much as I hate causing him pain, when Drix wakes up, Holds needs to know how much his brother needs him, not because of all of the physical therapy ahead, but because he’s always needed him. Before I can soothe him, his phone rings. Holds jumps and the tears finally spill over. He looks from his phone on the table to me with wide, frightened eyes.

“It’s probably just Gavin,” I say, for the first time praying it’s Gavin reaching out to Holds instead of my usual jealousy.

“N-no. H-he, Gavin, he’d text me first to make sure I’m home or still up.”

I glance at the clock on the wall, understanding why Holds’s freak out is immediate. We’ve been sitting here longer than I thought. A phone call this late at night…

I reach over and grab the phone for him; checking the screen, I recognize the main number for the hospital. I set it gently into his trembling hands. It doesn’t have to be bad news, maybe Drix woke up. Maybe. Staring me in the eyes, Holds answers his phone while putting it on speaker. “H-h-hello, Holden Weston speaking.”

“Holden, sweetheart, this is Nurse Patricia. Is Jameson there with you?”

“I’m here,” I say, voice wavering with my own fear.

“You guys need to come back to the hospital right away. The doctor isn’t sure… he isn’t sure what’s happening with Hendrix exactly. I’m sorry, boys. Hopefully, we’ll know more by the time you get here, but I don’t want you to miss—”

I cut her off. “We’re on our way.”

Holds and I don’t speak as we shove our feet in our shoes, take Peanut out really quickly, and jump into the car. I speed to the hospital as safely as possible, and head straight to the ER entrance since at this late hour, it’s the only way into the building. We jog through the halls to the elevator, up to Drix’s floor, and then take off running for Nurse Patricia at the nurses’ station. “Slow down, slow down,” she says as she comes around from the other side.

“Is he… Did he…” Holds asks, head moving from side to side like Drix will appear in front of us.

“He’s stable for now,” she responds. Holds’s whole body sags with her words, so I wrap an arm around him to keep him from sliding to the floor.

“What happened?” I ask.

“Let me get Dr. Bennet. He’s the one who responded to the call.”

While we wait, Holds wrings his hands together. “Holds, you have to calm down,” I say, pretending my own heart isn’t racing like a locomotive ready to crash into the side of a mountain. If anything happens to Drix—I cut off my own thoughts so I can focus on easing his brother’s concern.

After several minutes, a tall, thin older man approaches us. “Mr. Weston?” he asks. Holds nods and the doctor stretches out his hand to shake first Holden’s, then mine.

“What happened to Hendrix? Is he going to be okay?” Holds’s voice is small and fragile, and I move my hand to rub the small of his back, soothing him with my touch the best I can.

“Your brother’s system began to shut down.” Holden gasps, but the doctor continues, “This can happen sometimes with a patient who’s been in a coma, whether it was induced or not. The fact he hadn’t woken up yet was already cause for concern, and this may be nothing more than him fighting. We are running tests, but for now...”

“When will we know?” I ask when Holds remains silent, tears rolling down his face.

“We’re going to continue monitoring him through the night, and hope—”

“Can we see him?” Holds cuts the doctor off.

“Yes, but if anything—”

“I know. We’ll get out of the way immediately if there’s another emergency. I just… I need to see him, touch him. Please.” Holds is known on this floor for how polite and professional he is with the hospital staff, but the doctor nods understandingly at being cut off once again.

We leave Doctor Bennet as Nurse Patricia leads us into the room, patting both Holds and me on the shoulder as she walks back out. “Use the call button if you need anything. I’ll be monitoring the machines from my desk,” she says before she disappears.

We stand together on the side of Drix’s bed. Holds alternates between crying and begging his brother to wake up while we each rest one hand on him and clutch onto each other, fingers entwined. Whenever Holds dissolves into tears, I take up his litany, pleading with Drix to return to us.

Once, during the dawn of the new day, we’re rushed out as Hendrix’s body seizes, his upper body convulsing and spasming. Holds stares listlessly at the door where his brother is being worked on as I murmur how strong Drix is, how I know he’s fighting right now to open his eyes and see his twin. Amazingly, we’re allowed back in an hour later, and we return to our vigil beside his bed.

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