All I Can Do

The next morning Jonathan was dismissed from the hospital, much to his disapproval. That was surely going to make his plan for forgiveness more difficult. He protested, claiming that he was in pain, that his arm didn’t feel right and he could barely walk. Barbara only gave him a warning look and began to recite the real facts about his injuries to the doctor.

Jonathan listened in irritation. He pouted, sinking into his pillows and glaring at his nurse. She knew he needed to stay... or nonetheless, wanted to. Making things right with Farren was really the only thing he felt had to be done- anything else could wait.

Barbara didn’t care. She went along and told the doctor just how much and how miraculous his recovery was. He had healed so quickly, she could hardly believe it and the doctor examined and agreed instantly. Then, he left and Jonathan’s parents were sent in, ready to take him back to his place.

“I don’t feel up to it,” he excused himself again, for the thirtieth time.

His mother rolled her eyes, reaching for some of the cards and throwing them into the box, “Barbara told us about Farren and it may seem like a good idea, Jonathan, but you’re intruding.”

“I didn’t do anything offensive!” Jonathan fought back , watching her pile his gifts away, “I just told her that I wanted to help, that’s it, she fucking bit my head off!”

His mother froze and turned to look at him, “Language.”

He rolled his eyes, falling in a heap, “Sorry.”

“You need to rest,” She continued, as if he hadn’t cussed at all, and she folded the box neatly, handing it to his father, who was mum the entire time, “She does too, she needs to get better and move on... you being there isn’t going to help that.”

Jonathan grumbled something under his breath, careful that his mother wouldn’t hear. Soon he was being dropped into his wheelchair and pushed down the hall. They stopped at Patrick’s room and said goodbye. Jon promised he’d be back tomorrow and everyday to talk to him, since he was the reason Patrick was stuck here... but they all knew why he would return.

Slowly he exited the hospital, ignoring the camera’s down the lot as they snapped pictures of him in his chair. He was lifted into the rental car his parent’s bought and they began to drive away. He felt guilty, he was leaving, 100% okay, and the two people he hurt were stuck there, in pain.

Sighing, he rested his head against the window, glaring at the cameras as he drove past. He ignored his father’s cuss words, directed towards them, and the hollers- demanding to know if the ‘third party’ had awoken. He was already being labelled a murderer, he’d gathered that much from the news. All he could do now was ignore it.

“Do you want anything?” His mother asked, as they passed a grocery store which sparked the thought, “To eat, I mean. You’ve been stuck to hospital food for nearly a week, I’ll make you a real meal.”

Jonathan smiled subtly, realizing once more just how amazing she was, “Anything you want, Ma.”

His mother beamed at him, like she had her son back, even though he was in Chicago for most of his life. She reached over and patted his hand, as if thanking him for simply just being okay- for surviving. He just smiled at her, which was the only thing he could say.

They drove in silence for the rest of the ride, until they pulled up to his house. His father helped him up the steps and brought him to the couch in the living room. He sat, turning on the TV and closing his eyes. He was exhausted and in pain. He felt like a huge weight had been lifted.

“I’m going to go to the grocery store,” His mother said about twenty minutes later, “I’m going to make a pasta dinner, is that ok?”

Jon looked up from his sideway position on the couch, putting his Stanley cup championship hat on top of his head, “Sounds great.”

“Ok, I’ll see you in a bit sweetie.”

She left and Jonathan could hear his father’s heavy snores from the guest room upstairs. Closing his eyes, he thought of sleep, finally away from those nasty hospital beds. It felt wonderful, even if it was just the couch.

Lazily, he flipped the channel to the news and instantly saw himself being wheeled out of the hospital and into the car. He didn’t even stop to hear the report, he didn’t want to hear him be accused of drunk driving, or murder or whatever was next... finally, however, he fell into a comfortable, long sleep.