One moment there was yelling, pleading, crying and panic; then Soren was taken to the hospital, leaving everyone that hadnât gone with him to pick up the pieces. Or at least try to make sense of it all. It was eerily quiet, Nate thought, almost like everyone was afraid to speak. As if using their voices would break some sort of seal and unleash a curse upon them all, or maybe just make them look guilty of something.
Eventually (though it was probably only a few minutes), Kyle had to ask some questions to everyone whoâd been in attendance. It was pretty standard, and Nate volunteered first. He recounted everything he remembered since arriving; looking back, he once again felt like he should have seen some of the signs sooner. He and Soren had never been close, but even Nate knew that Soren was acting strange. When Kyle was finished with his questions, Nate went and settled down next to Erin.
Neither of them said anything, and that was fine; Nate didnât sit down beside her to have a conversation. Erin had done a lot for him, and he didnât know how to express how much it meant to him, so he settled on trying his best to be there for her. He hadnât always been good about that in the past, heâd often let himself get so absorbed in his own problems (whether that be money problems, parent problems, or what have you) that he didnât think to reach out to make sure his friends werenât struggling, too. As a child, heâd learned to ignore problems to survive. The less you confront your problems (and the problems of otherâs, by extension), the less trouble you end up in. This⊠Had not carried into adulthood, but it was an old habit that was increasingly hard to bury.
He looked around the apartment while they sat: it was a mess, but everywhere seemed to get that way after a party, even just a dinner party. Kyle eventually sent everyone out, told them to go home, try to get some rest. That was good advice, and Nate tried to take it, but he felt so useless. He knew that what he was feeling was normal, but he just wanted to do something, to help in some way. He didnât know what he was going to do, but he knew he wouldnât be able to sleep, and sitting around waiting was going to drive him insane.
Maybe the waiting was too difficult, maybe it was Nate trying to prove that he wasnât as useless as he felt, or maybe it was the knowledge that he wouldnât want a mess to clean up after being rushed to the hospital; but Nathan found himself sending out a few messages, getting back into Sorenâs place, and cleaning up a bit. He didnât do anything dramatic: mostly just threw out trash, washed dishes. He didnât know where things went, and trying to figure it out felt like snooping, so he stuck to simple things, and figured leaving things out to dry wouldnât hurt anything. At least there wouldnât be rotting food sitting in the sink for someone to deal with. It wasnât perfect, but it was better than nothing, and better than nothing was what Nate did best.
After a while he made his way to the hospital, most everyone else was there, just waiting. Waiting for news, or for Soren to wake up, or whatever. Nate hated hospitals. Heâd been in plenty as a kid, but he hadnât stepped foot in one in years. The waiting was always the worst. Waiting for news, for the doctor, for an x-ray, for the social worker to come and ask a few questions. He had to remind himself that he wasnât a kid, anymore. This wasnât his visit. They wouldnât ask him questions, and even if they did, answering honestly held no consequence. Not this time. He didnât really keep track of how long he sat around waiting: he spent the time fiddling with the apps on his phone, or listening to the others. He didnât have a lot of thoughts to share, and they wouldnât be helpful, anyway. He felt the collective weight off everyoneâs shoulders when they heard they could see Soren, though. That meant that things were going to be okay. Maybe not for certain, and maybe not for forever, but for the moment, everything seemed okay.
It didnât take long for everyone to gather up their things and start heading down the labyrinth of halls, doors, and desperation. Ultimately, their path led to hope... At least, Nathan hoped it did.
When they reached the door, a sudden nervousness hit Nate. He didnât belong here, not really. He and Soren werenât close. He suddenly felt like heâd been horribly overstepping this entire time, and hung back just a bit, waving everyone else into the room ahead of him. When he finally entered the room, he hovered in the back, near the door. He offered Soren a smile, but it didnât quite come out right. Heâd meant it as a reassuring gesture, but instead it looked (and felt) awkward, maybe a little strained. He pretty quickly dropped his gaze to the floor, almost as if being noticed could hurt him. He hated hospitals, and he didnât know what to say. âHey man, glad you didnât die,â didnât quite feel like the right thing to say, even if it was what he felt, so he opted to stay quiet. Maybe someone else could word his feelings more appropriately. Or just in a way that was more palatable. Or maybe they wouldnât, and that would be okay. Everything didnât need to be spoken aloud to be true.