When the doctor finally left I closed the door behind him and dragged my chair around to sit next to Jensen’s bed. I hadn’t had a chance to sit by his bedside yet, and I had always believed in giving the brothers equal attention. He looked so sad, and damaged like I’d never seen before, and I just wanted him to wake up and tell me everything was going to be okay.
His skin was pale, which made the bruise on his jaw stand out a lot more, and the slashes across his forehead and cheek that were held together with stitches would surely become scars. I could imagine how he would feel about that. He would probably grumble about his pretty face being ruined, just like his car, and would only stop mentioning it if a cute girl told him how sexy it made him look.
I glanced behind me to make sure that Jared was still asleep. The doctor had determined, after a few simple tests and checking the cardiac monitor, that he had just fallen back to sleep and that he would be okay. He couldn’t explain what had happened, but I was grateful that it wasn’t anything serious. Aside from the Latin, anyway.
When I was sure that Jared wouldn’t wake up anytime soon and that the door was firmly shut, I turned back to Jensen and took hold of his limp hand. It was much larger than mine and callused from all the work he had done over the years. It felt so right, holding his hand, though. My hand fit perfectly in his and his skin was warm and comforting despite how pale it was.
“I don’t know if you can hear me,” I started, feeling like a fool. Everyone said something like that when they tried talking to someone in a coma; it was the biggest cliché in the book. But I couldn’t find any other words that felt right. Before I lost the nerve I pressed on. “I just wanted to let you know that I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything I said before… you know.”
I paused, realizing that my eyes were blurry from unwanted tears. I took a deep breathe, blinking rapidly to get rid of them, then continued.
“I should have told you that it was my fault the demon had gotten loose, and I’m sorry I called you a liar. I’m sorry I called you hard and unfeeling, I know better. I know you had it hardest after Seymour died because you were the oldest.”
I hesitated, words failing me. What more could I say to him? I still felt guilty and I didn’t even know if he could hear me. If he couldn’t then I would have to say the words all over again sometime.
“If you can hear me I need you to wake up,” I finally said, ignoring the tears that came back in force. My voice quavered, and I had to swallow hard before continuing on. “I know I haven’t seen you in more than two years, but I need to know you’ll be okay. Even if you leave me again, I just want you to be okay.”
I gave up and sobbed, leaning forward to lay my head on his chest. “I need you,” I whispered.
I fell asleep after I had cried myself out, and once again before I was completely asleep I felt a brush of cold on my shoulder and felt a rush of someone’s mixed emotions.