Retribution (The Protectors 3)

I’d gone back downstairs after that to talk with Ronan and Seth about them watching out for Matty after I had to leave with Hawke to go to Lulling. They’d both been sitting at the kitchen table, hands joined as they’d poured over some papers that they’d spread out in front of them. I’d watched them in silence for a moment as they’d talked and laughed amongst themselves and I’d envied the easy conversation and the loving touches between them. And none of those things had stopped when they’d spied me. Instead, they’d waved me over and as I’d sat down, they’d started going over the plans they’d made on how to split up the time spent staying with Matty in the hospital so he’d never be by himself. I’d lost it at that point and had started sobbing uncontrollably as I’d realized I wouldn’t have to face this by myself. Seth had held me as I’d cried and when I’d finally managed to get control of myself, there’d been no judgment or recrimination. We’d simply picked up where we’d left off and made our plans.

The following morning, we’d taken two cars to the hospital. Ronan and I had gone directly to the hospital to get Matty admitted while Seth had taken Bullet to the nearby hotel we’d be using as our home base for the foreseeable future since their house was too far away to travel back and forth to. I’d been nervous about the admission process in terms of the financial aspect, but the woman at the desk had merely slid a piece of paper in front of me and pointed to the billing section and asked if the information was correct. I’d felt Ronan’s eyes on me as I’d read the name on the page, but he hadn’t said anything.

Michael Hawkins.

Michael.

At first the name didn’t seem to fit the harsh man, but the more I’d said it to myself over and over in my mind, I’d found that I liked the way it sounded in my head and as soon as I’d been by myself, I’d actually spoken it out loud just to see what it felt like. I hadn’t asked Ronan where Hawke was staying though he clearly hadn’t been staying at the house or I would have seen him. I’d kept hoping he would show up at some point, though I had no idea what I would have said to him if he had.

Matty had been a trooper for all the various poking and prodding he’d had to endure, but he’d had his first meltdown when he’d woken up after receiving anesthesia so that doctors could put in a central line. The central line had been inserted under his collarbone and was threaded under the skin until it came out of his upper chest. It was meant to make the administration of the chemotherapy drugs easier, but Matty had cried when he’d realized that the strange looking device would be staying in his body for the foreseeable future. He’d been inconsolable until the moment Ronan had leaned down and whispered something into his ear. I’d only heard the words “superhero juice” but whatever he’d said had been enough for Matty to settle down and I’d held him in my arms until he’d finally fallen asleep. It was at that moment that I’d known I’d be able to leave my son in the care of the two men who were fast becoming friends.

Matty’s first chemo treatment had been done the following night while he’d been asleep and Ronan had stayed with me the entire night while Seth went back to the hotel to get some rest. Matty had reacted better than expected to the medication, though he was nauseous the next morning and hadn’t eaten anything. By lunch time, he’d been sitting up in bed and had taken a few tentative bites of the mac and cheese the nurse had brought him. He’d spent the rest of the afternoon napping, watching cartoons and coloring and when Seth had arrived to relieve us, Ronan and I had gone to the hotel to get some sleep.

As planned, we’d each taken shifts and while I’d spent every hour that I wasn’t sleeping by Matty’s side, Ronan and Seth alternated so that the only time I was ever alone with Matty was when he was asleep. I usually managed to snag a few hours of sleep myself at those times, but after only ten days, the physical and emotional stress were taking their toll on me.

Hence the many coffee runs.

But as tough as the days had been, we’d gotten some really good news the previous day when the doctor had spoken to us about the bone marrow biopsy they’d done. The fact that the disease hadn’t progressed enough that Matty would need a stem cell transplant had helped ease some of the constant fear and anxiety that plagued me day in and day out.