After what the doctor had told me, I was careful not to take my touch off him for too long. I remained close. I spoke often. Now that he was home, I would be his constant shadow until he opened his eyes and gave me permission to collapse in exhaustion.
I would not rest until he came back to me.
I will fight for you, Sully…even if you can’t hear or feel me.
A squawk sounded as the doctors pushed Sully toward the pathways leading toward goddess villas and an island that’d been touched by death and decay.
The palm trees still swayed in the glittering sunshine. The sand still twinkled gold and silver like micro-diamonds scattered on the shore. The sea glowed with turquoise, and the occasional flitter of jewelled fish darted in the spangles of sunlight.
Hibiscus lived on the muggy air along with lush greenery and island sweetness. Sully’s wonderland seemed both apologetic and welcoming, as if it needed to erase the pain and demise that’d happened here and promised the power to reverse the anarchy that Drake had brought.
I tripped as my body urged me once again to sleep.
This fatigue was different to the catatonic urge to shut down after enduring elixir. This wasn’t just mind fatigue but physical, emotional, soulful.
I’d done what I could for Sully.
I’d killed his brother on his behalf.
I’d spent his money via Dr Campbell to fly him home.
And I’d stupidly, stupidly hoped that the moment Sully smelled his tropical jungle and heard the licking waves, he’d remember. He’d wake up. He’d be healthy and mine again.
I couldn’t lie and say I wasn’t disappointed.
And I couldn’t stop my heart from breaking all over again as Pika shot from the glossy bushes and zipped straight to Sully, lying like a warrior who’d been carried from battle to be buried amongst family.
If anything could snap Sully out of the unwakeable sleep, it was the winged comedian with such attitude.
The tiny green, white, and apricot parrot landed on Sully’s chest. He squeaked and puffed up, his black eyes glistening with pure joy.
The doctors stopped wheeling Sully, all watching Pika as he rolled onto his wings and waved his scaly legs in the air. He chattered and chirped, slithering around on Sully’s chest, nuzzling into him, showing every possible affection.
When Sully didn’t react, Pika squawked with annoyance and flipped back to his feet. Marching up Sully’s chest, he pecked at his chin. He fluttered and landed on his nose.
I did my best not to get my hopes up.
I tried to prevent my mind from tormenting me with images of Sully sitting upright and laughing. Of him kissing the tiny bird and proving that he’d been faking his unresponsiveness all along.
However, the heart rate monitor didn’t register a pulse-kick. His skin didn’t flush. His lips didn’t twitch.
Nothing.
Oh, God.
I wedged a hand against my stomach as Pika switched from happy little tyrant into melancholy mope. His wings sagged, his puffed-up feathers fell, and his tiny questioning squeak made me cry all over again.
“Pika…” I scooped him from Sully’s face and kissed his sagging head. “It’s okay. He’ll be okay.” The tiny bird struggled to get out of my hand.
I let him go, only for him to fly back to Sully and sit on his forehead, pecking at Sully’s eyebrows, a string of chirps, cackles, twirls, and tweets falling from his beak.
You didn’t need to be an animal whisperer to see his absolute pain. His rejection. His panic that Sully wasn’t okay.
I stroked his tiny head, brushing aside my tears. “He’s just sleeping, little Pika. He’ll wake up soon. You’ll see.”
Pika suddenly hopped onto my finger and let out a heart-stabbing screech. He whipped his stare from me to Sully and cocked his head until horizontal.
And then, he exploded off my finger in a burst of green.
He zoomed into the jungle and vanished.
“Everything okay?” the female doctor, who I’d learned was named Louise Maldon, asked. Her colleagues began wheeling Sully down the pathway leading toward my villa.
I swallowed back the pain that’d lodged tight in my throat. “Pika just doesn’t understand. Sully is his soul-mate. I guess he’s a little heartbroken that Sully didn’t respond.”
So am I.
Louise nodded, sweat breaking out on her brow as they continued to battle against sand and heavy stretchers. “If he means a lot to Mr. Sinclair, you need to keep him close. I suggest you gather everything that means a lot and surround him with as much familiarity as possible.”
I made eye contact. “In that case…I was going to suggest going to my villa as its closer and not as far to push, but…we should take him to Nirvana.”
“Nirvana?”
“His waterfall.” I trailed my fingers over Sully’s forearm resting over the white sheet covering him. IV lines still punctured his body and oxygen tubes still stuck beneath his nose, but for once, his skin wasn’t icy.