Page 37 of Should the Sky Fall

Part of Dawson expects to be yelled at and chastised, the nurse demanding what he did. He swallows up his apology and frivolous explanation when he sees the nurse’s unperturbed expression. In a trance, he watches as she strides past him, giving Cal’s vitals a quick glance before doing something that makes the monitors go quiet. She checks the IV, adjusts it slightly, then turns to Dawson.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—” Dawson stammers, trying to calm his own racing heart.

“Not your fault,” the nurse says, the picture of calm. “His BP just went up for a moment. He might be a bit jumpy at first, so go easy on him.”

When Dawson looks at Cal, he finds his eyes on him already. Carefully, he lowers himself into the chair again, trying to maintain eye contact. There’s something in Cal’s gaze—not recognition, not quite, but he’s not looking at Dawson like one would at a complete stranger. The nurse is watching them, Dawson can feel it.

“Cal? Do you know who this is?” she asks, speaking slowly.

Cal doesn’t reply, just continues looking at Dawson. His chest rises and falls quicker with each breath, but the machines don’t go off again. What happens is much worse.

Cal’s fingers twitch, and then he’s moving his hand, inching it towards Dawson until it reaches the edge.

Dawson just stares at it like Cal’s offering him a gun instead of his hand.

What should he do? What will the nurse think if he doesn’t take Cal’s hand? What will Cal think? Or do?

It’s fine. He's just overthinking it. He can hold Cal’s hand, can’t he? The world won’t end.

He raises his trembling hand and gently slides it into Cal’s open one. He’s careful not to dislodge the BP monitor or the IV, but Cal doesn’t seem to care. His fingers curl around Dawson’s, and he gives them a gentle squeeze. Feeling like he’s going to throw up, Dawson pulls away, beyond caring what anyone will think of his strange behavior.

“I’ll give you some privacy,” the nurse says, sparing them both another look before leaving.

“Do you know who I am?” Dawson asks when he can’t bear the staring contest any longer.

Cal studies his face, and his expression shutters. “I’m sorry.”

The relief is unexpected. Why is he relieved that Cal doesn’t recognize him?

“It’s okay,” he says. “I’m Dawson. Your…” The word burns a hole in his throat. “We are married.”

He would’ve expected some kind of reaction—shock, surprise. Anything, really. But Cal’s expression doesn’t change.

“Are you hurt?” Cal asks in a raspy voice, raising his hand and reaching for Dawson’s face. Before he can touch him, Dawson draws back so fast the chair screeches with it, close to toppling over.

Cal’s eyes grow wide.

“I don’t…” He lets his hand flop back and winces. “Sorry. I can’t…Everything is blurry.” His voice is hoarse, barely recognizable. It must hurt to be talking after being intubated this whole time.

Trying to get his racing heart under control, Dawson says in a tight voice, “Just take it easy. You’ve been under for days.” It’s okay, he tries to assure himself. Cal isn’t going to hurt him. He’s just confused and in pain, dosed up on morphine and who knows what. He couldn’t hurt him if he tried.

“I saw you,” Cal says. “You were hurt.”

What does he mean hesaw Dawson? Did Cal dream about him? Maybe had a flashback? But he said he doesn’t remember him. He tried to touch Dawson’s face—does that mean he saw him being injured there? That would be ironic, since the only reason for Dawson to be hurt like that would be thanks to Cal.

“I’m fine, as you can see,” he says, a rush of resentment filling his chest. He needs to get out of here. Now. “Sorry. I…I should let you rest.” He flees—there’s no other word for it. It’s not until he shuts the door, knowing Cal is on the other side, that he can breathe again.

“What do you mean he saw you?” Ellis asks, looking like he can’t decide whether he’s worried or happy that Cal might be remembering something.

“I don’t know. Maybe in a dream?” That would make the most sense. “He said—he said I was hurt. When he saw me.” Doesn’t exactly narrow down which occasion he was referring to.

Ellis frowns. “But he didn’t remember you?”

“I don’t think so.” He doesn’t tell Ellis about Cal wanting to hold his hand.

Ellis studies him and something shifts in his gaze. “Were you hoping he wouldn’t remember you?” It doesn’t sound like an accusation, but Dawson goes still. Ellis must notice his reaction. “It’s okay. No one can blame you. I certainly don’t.”

Unsure what to say to that, Dawson asks “What are you going to do? With the company and everything? He can't work like this.”