It was unbearable to see someone contain their anger. Much more if it's someone called Carlyle Ire. Mikael would have been relieved if Carlyle punched him or the older person cried but neither happened. The coldness on Carlyle's eyes became deeper as they walked closer to the room. Mikael noticed how Carlyle repeatedly flexed his hands to ease the hidden tension. The veins would protrude, the bone mass big and powerful. He could not imagine what would happen if he got punched by it knowing that this almost six feet tall person was a world-renowned taekwondo Olympic medalist.
"What happened?" He looked up but Carlyle wasn't looking at him only staring at the person in the room.
"Brooklyn didn't mean it, Elder cousin. He didn't want you to worry that's why, I—I agreed to help him. He promised to undergo therapy but I don't know what happened. The Doctor said his body had relapsed more than three times; it was only a miracle that he survived till now."
"When are you planning on tell me? The day Brooklyn dies?"
Mikael's heart thumped wildly. His hand shook vigorously on his side. He shook his head pitifully and burst into tears, unable to hide his feelings and slumped on the ground like a broken doll, apologizing miserably.
Carlyle stared at the person beneath him. If he hadn't taken an interest in the bullying incident that that crude dignitary spoke, would have he known? If he didn't hear Brooklyn's alias name and felt the need, would he be too late? Would have he known what was happening to his brother?
He stared at the body inside the room. Looking at those machines and the splint on the wrist. Was he too late?
"I want him transferred."
Mikael gulped his hiccups and looked up. "Y-yes. Doctor C-Chen has already arranged everything. Once Bonie's temperature s-stabilized he will be transferred to GIH."
Carlyle made a glance. His blood surged under his skin. He wanted to punch someone. He wanted to kill this cousin of his for conspiring with his brother. But he stopped himself. He might be narrow-minded at times but he wasn't one for physical violence. He gave a grim look at the room before he strode off, his emotion chaotic.
David felt Carlyle's presence and he stood up and met the man halfway. Seeing the unstable emotion and angry brows he could only sigh. He gave him a supportive smile and offered him a can of his favorite coffee.
He drank one earlier too. He was already an outsider yet he couldn't even believe everything from the reports, how much more his best friend who was a blood relative, the older brother? And he knows that despite how aloof and distant Carlyle had become towards Brooklyn, Carlyle deeply cared towards his younger brother.
"Drink some. It'll help you ease some nerves.
"Thank you." Carlyle's gaze softened, his tension relaxed as he looked at the stretched-out can. He grabbed it and drank.
"Let's go." David nodded and followed suit.
When the fever showed the sign of abating, Doctor Felicia felt needed to celebrate. Around three in the morning, Brooklyn was transferred in an ambulance to the General Imperial Hospital.
"Doctor Felicia, thank you."
"No problem, Mr. Veloso. Don't worry about your classes today. I'll submit an excuse letter myself. You can rest easy." Mikael once again expressed his thanks and when it was enough he went to the ambulance.
______
The fresh cold air made his lungs feel cool and refreshed. His eyes opened and blinked softly like a fluttering breeze. His mind was clear but his entire body felt heavy, aching and exhausted.
His brows furrowed as he felt something firm holding his left arm. He gazed down and saw a person. He had long light brown lashes that seemed to melt to his slightly yellowish tanned skin, his cluster of thick wavy hair was dark brown. It was Mikael who was sleeping with visible bags in his eyes, and tense brows as if he was having a nightmare. His reading glasses had strayed off far into his forehead making a funny appearance. He glanced up to his left and saw a lighted lamp and stacks of thick books coupled with a notebook that was bare as papers piled messily on top of it, some stuck out in the other books while the pens and markers were on the furthest side.
His eyes teetered to the window, the curtain was drawn to the sides making the room warm and vibrant. It gave off a lively and fluffy feeling which he liked very much.
"M—" His voice cracked and his throat ached. He blinked and remembered his situation and his possible miraculous rebirth or so.
Brooklyn's body was weak, he suffered from terrible cold asthma causing his lungs to be particularly prone to diseases. He wondered how many days it took for him to wake up. It must have been a long time, at least he wasn't a vegetable nor did he die.
His mind went to the previous Brooklyn's brother, but he immediately pushed it down not wanting to remember it and decided to wake Mikael.
Mikael jolted from his sleep, throwing his glasses off the ground. His gaze unfocused. Then his eyes widened with the realization.
"Bonie! I'm gonna call Doctor Chen!"
Mikael ran away almost slipping near the door that made Brooklyn winced in pain as he snickered his chuckle. Soon after Mikael came back bringing a short plum middle-aged man. He has monolid eyes, partnered with his thin light brown brows and light brown hair. His face full of vitality, his air youthful and approachable. It was the previous Brooklyn's specialist, Doctor Chen. If he goes with the previous Brooklyn's memories Doctor Chen was forty-two this year.
Doctor Chen always smiles at his patients, similar to now. It never fails to make the patients at ease. Doctor Chen and Brooklyn go way back since Brooklyn's birth. Doctor Chen was initially in the pediatric department but when he decided to take Brooklyn's case he decided to evolve too: He became a pulmonologist.
Doctor Chen did a routine check on him. He was diagnosed with pneumonia. The fever was due to his stomach acid that went to his lungs causing an infection and because he collapsed and laid on the cold floor the fever worsened, coupled with his weak constitution the matter became more severe. If he was a day late and didn't seek a physician's help his fever would have fried his brain, and his lungs would have completely collapsed, then he would have died in two weeks or induce a coma.
It took five days for the fever to stop. To medicate him, he was ventilated for almost two weeks before Doctor Chen saw improvements. And just four days ago the ventilation was removed and a nebulizer was attached. Due to Brooklyn's weak constitution, his relatively fast-paced recovery astounded Doctor Chen to his delight. Sometimes miracles do exist.
Doctor Chen can't help but exclaim. "Little Bon, you should take care of yourself. You already know your condition. If I didn't know you any better, I would have thought you wanted to murder your lungs."
"Little Bon, you are really the worst patient. If this happens again, go find another Doctor. "
Doctor Chen talked as if what he said was just about the weather. If he didn't know any better, he would have thought Doctor Chen didn't particularly like Brooklyn. But he knows that this Doctor was like a second father to Brooklyn and took him very well.
Doctor Chen was the head doctor of the previous Brooklyn, so having Brooklyn relapse under his strict watch created a big shadow in his heart. Doctor Chen received the heaviest blow in his career and ended up quitting his job and after years of recovery, he became a teacher. He couldn't touch a patient anymore since then.
If a Doctor who had declared his patient under-recovery suddenly died because his lungs gave out, what would be the Doctor's reaction? Even him who wasn't a Doctor couldn't begin to imagine.
===
To be continued…