They won’t let me stay by Ash anymore. There isn’t room in the medical area of the Helicopter. It’ll be okay right? I can still feel him, even without physical touch. They’ve got him on monitors. They’re fixing what I can’t heal.
I lean against my Dad. Aside from slight indignation about grandma’s personal question to Gloria, I am silent. I am tired. No, I am beyond tired. I’m exhausted, still. Dad’s arm is around me. Grandma has a hand on my knee. I’m half asleep as I listen to Gloria’s tale. I empathize with her.
At last we land. Ash is rushed into the Operating Room, as the rest of us slowly follow. It’s been a long night. I think we are all tired. It’s nice to feel the warm sun. It revitalizes me slightly; then we are inside.
I don’t feel him anymore. My pace quickens. My hands slap against the OR door and my face presses against the tiny window. The doctor’s don’t look worried. The heart monitor is doing its beep, beep thing. I feel my Dad’s hand’s on my shoulder.
“He’s under heavy sedation,” he says quietly, “you’ll be able to link with him again when the anesthesia wares off.” Dad moves me away from the door. “You should take this time to rest and regain your strength.”
I can only nod and sit in the seat he steers me too. I watch as he goes to talk with Grandma B and Uncle Ben. Gloria sits next to me and takes my hand. I fall asleep.