Jock Next Bed (BL)
Chapter 195: Brace yourself.

Chapter 195: Brace yourself.

Chris had never been afraid of hospitals before, but as he stepped into his father’s room, he felt a fear so deep it was almost suffocating.

A line of doctors stood inside, their presence both reassuring and intimidating. His mother was there too, looking like a ghost of herself—tired, frail, barely holding on. But the moment his father’s eyes opened and landed on him, everything else faded.

His father whispered what sounded like his name. His voice was hoarse, weaker than he’d ever heard it. "Are you...?" His tired eyes took in the hospital gown Chris was wearing, the IV marks on his arm. "Why... are you dressed like that?"

His voice was almost inaudible. But Chris heard it.

Chris’ throat tightened. A lump formed, heavy and painful. He felt like a child again—small, helpless, desperate to hold onto the moment.

Even though his father was the one who looked like that, yet, he was concerned about it.

He had really taken a lot for granted.

Chris forced a smirk. "Someone said you were probably fed up with me. That’s why you had to fake collapse."

His father chuckled—a soft, breathy sound, but real. Chris felt it in his bones.

For a moment, things felt normal. Like they could go back to before.

But then his father’s eyelids drooped, and exhaustion pulled him under again. The doctors moved in, checking his vitals. One of them turned to Chris’ mother.

"Congratulations. The worst has been averted," the chief doctor said, his voice gentle but firm. "He’ll need more rest, and we’ll continue to monitor him closely."

Chris exhaled, his chest feeling both lighter and heavier at the same time. The weight of relief and the crushing reminder of how close they had come to losing him.

Then the doctor turned to his mother. "It’s your turn now, Director."

His mother blinked in confusion. "What?"

"You need rest. And IV fluids," the doctor said, matter-of-fact. "If you keep pushing yourself like this, you’ll collapse. And then what?"

Chris’ mother opened her mouth, ready to argue, but the doctor shook his head. "No protests. You’re not superhuman. You’re barely holding on as it is."

Chris stared at her, really seeing her now—the dark circles under her eyes, the way her body swayed slightly like she was running on pure willpower. She looked more fragile than he’d ever seen her.

"Mom," he said quietly. "Listen to them."

She hesitated, then sighed. "I will. Just... give me a moment with my son first."

The doctors nodded and left.

Chris barely had time to process what was happening before his mother turned to him.

Then she broke.

She pulled him into a tight embrace, her body trembling, and let out a choked sob.

Chris froze. Completely taken aback.

She tried to muffle her sobs in his shoulders, but he heard them clearly.

"I thought we were going to lose him," she whispered against his shoulder. "I thought—I thought..."

Chris felt his own eyes burn. He clenched his jaw, trying to hold it in.

"You both are all I have, Chris," she murmured. "You and him."

Chris swallowed hard, his hands gripping the back of her blouse. "I’m here, Mom," he whispered back. "And he’s here."

He looked at his father, who was sleeping. He was here. With them.

He never wanted to experience that kind of fear again. Ever.

----

The next morning, Chris lay in his hospital bed, staring at the ceiling. The soft beeping of the IV machine was the only sound in the quiet room.

He would have preferred to be in the VIP room with his parents, to keep an eye on them, to convince himself that they were really okay. But the doctors had insisted—he needed to finish his IV fluids, needed to rest.

Wilson had been coming in and out, keeping him updated. Rachel was safe in his place. In fact, he had left her in the care of his mother. A really sweet woman.

"Your mom’s still knocked out," Wilson reported as he strolled in again, tossing a bottled drink onto the bedside table. "Doctors forced her to sleep after she kept trying to micromanage everything from her bed. Your dad’s stable. He was awake for a while this morning."

Chris exhaled in relief, though the tightness in his chest didn’t fade completely.

Wilson watched him for a moment. "And you? You look like crap."

Chris gave a dry chuckle. "Thanks, Wilson. That’s exactly what I needed to hear."

Wilson smirked but didn’t press further. He leaned against the wall, crossing his arms. "Glad to see you finally laughing. I thought I was going to lose you to depression and sadness."

Chris gave him an irritated look. "Don’t sound so mushy with me. That’s disgusting."

Wilson laughed. "Fuck me for caring then."

"No, thank you."

Wilson broke into another laughter and before Chris could process it, the boy was right in front of his bed, hugging him. Tight.

"Man, I’m so happy. I’m going to throw the biggest party as soon as everything returns to normal."

Chris wanted to push him away at first, but he too was happy. And maybe he needed the hug. He let it last for a while, a little smile on his face before he thought it was enough and shoved Wilson away.

"Did you ever find my phone?" Chris asked seriously.

Wilson shook his head. "Nope. It’s probably lost in the chaos of that night."

Chris ran a hand through his messy hair, exhaling sharply. "Did you—" He paused, then tried again. "Did you hear anything about Sky yet?"

Wilson looked at him carefully, then sighed. "Rachel didn’t say much, but..." He hesitated. "You might wanna brace yourself."

Chris’ heart stuttered. "What do you mean?"

Wilson scratched the back of his head. "Look, man, there are rumors going around."

Chris swallowed. "About?"

Wilson didn’t answer right away. Instead, he dug his phone out of his pocket, scrolled through something, and then turned the screen toward Chris.

Chris stared.