Page 39 of Should the Sky Fall

Letting his expression speak for him, Cal does as told. Eddie drags him through three different abdominal exercises that leave him sweating and shaking. This is ridiculous. He's barely done anything, but it feels like he’s climbed a mountain. The human body is stupid.

Halfway through his knee rolling exercise, someone knocks on the door.

“Come in!” Eddie calls out.

The man from yesterday. He was one of the first people Cal saw after he woke up, the first altogether if he omits the staff. Cal’s brother, as the man told him. He tried to hide it, but Cal could see the hurt when he admitted he doesn’t remember him.

And now he can’t even recall his name. Way to twist the knife.

“Oh. Hey.” The man—his brother—says, eyes flicking between Cal and Eddie. “I can come by later—”

“That’s okay. My job here is done for today,” Eddie says, turning to Cal and raising an eyebrow. “How often are you going to do these?”

Cal sighs. “The breathing exercise every hour, eight to ten times. Three times a day for the rest.”

Eddie smiles, pleased. “And?”

“A short walk every hour.”.

“Atta boy.” Eddie grins. “See you later, Cal.”

As much as he likes seeing Eddie go, he’s not sure what to do with his brother.

“Hey,” his brother says, shifting awkwardly on his feet. Cal feels for him. It’s kind of comforting to see him as out of his depth as Cal is.

“Hi. Eli?” he tries, knowing he got it wrong when not-Eli’s face shutters.

“Close. Ellis.” He walks over to the chair by the bed and sits down.

“Right. Sorry.”

“Do you need help?”

Cal pushes until he’s almost upright and leaning against the pillows. “I’m fine, thank you.”

Ellis nods stiffly, interlacing his fingers and looking like he’d rather be anywhere else.

“Thanks for stopping by,” Cal says. He figures it’s the polite thing to say. “Is Dawson with you?”

He hasn’t been able to get the man who claimed to be his husband out of his mind. The second Cal opened his eyes and found himself looking at Dawson, everything in his body just…shifted. Came to life. Like someone set him on fire, but instead of pain he only felt warmth spreading into every cell of his being. He had no idea who Dawson was, not logically, but he ached to be close to him, to touch him.

But Dawson had left in a hurry. It must’ve been something Cal said, or did, that upset him.

“No,” Ellis says, something dark in his tone. “He might stop by later. This whole thing shook him pretty bad.”

So heisupset that Cal can’t remember. “I’m sorry. I wish I could remember you.” Remember anything, really. “The doctors say it might come back to me eventually.”

“Yeah, maybe.” He doesn’t seem comforted by it. “How are you feeling?”

Physically or otherwise? “I’m alright.” When Ellis gives him a look full of skepticism, he admits, “Everything hurts, even with morphine. They assigned me a physiotherapist, and it’s torture.”

Ellis’ face softens. “Two surgeries and a huge-ass scar. No wonder.” He leans back in the chair, looking like he could fall asleep.

Now that Cal takes the time to look him over, it’s clear Ellis is exhausted. There are shadows under his eyes, and he seems to be struggling not to let his eyelids droop. His skin is paler than Cal’s, but not by much. Would people say they look alike? They have the same dark hair and blue eyes, though Ellis’ are a lighter shade. His cheeks are shaved, his nose straighter. There are some similarities, but not enough that the sight of him causes some visceral reaction in Cal.

Unlike yesterday, when the sight of his own reflection in the bathroom nearly made him lose his balance. And it wasn’t because of how haggard he looked, or because he didn’t recognize his own face. Because he did. Kind of. A single glimpse made him want to put his fist through the mirror. He had to look away because the sudden surge of anger and hatred made him so dizzy he barely managed to keep himself upright.

He didn’t recognize himself, but his subconscious did, somehow. Does his reaction mean that he’s a bad person? If he is, how had he lived with himself for this long? But he can't be too bad, right? Bad people don’t have other people visit them at the hospital. Right?