Wyatt

"Thanks for staying," Colby whispers, her head resting on the curve of my shoulder. She'd been quiet for so long, I thought she might have fallen asleep.

"Where else would I be?" I say quietly. I turn my head slightly, kissing the top of hers. She squeezes my hand in response, tucking herself nearer to me. I draped my grey wool coat over her like a blanket, and she's curled up underneath it, resting as comfortably as is possible against my side.

I glance around the waiting room, stifling a yawn. Luke turned two chairs together front to front, settling himself into the makeshift bed. His head sags, lying on his chest at an angle that looks painful to me. Though his eyes are closed, I can tell he's still awake, the set of his folded arms and shoulders too stiff for slumber.

Next to him is my good buddy Cliff, who hasn't taken his disdainful eyes off of me since he returned to the waiting area from Tanzie's room. The expression on his face says 'go die'. I return his countenance in kind. If that prick thinks he can run me off with his ugly-ass mug and his brooding attitude, he'd better think again.

We've been sitting here for just under an hour since the Byers family was rushed away from Tanzie. They were able to stabilize her and took her for a CT scan and some X-rays. The nurse appeared once to let us know they've added a few more tests to the battery they're already running, but that's the last we've heard.

The halls on the third floor are a ghost town, with only the occasional orderly or custodian shuffling through the corridors. The waiting room lights have been dimmed, making me drowsy. I don't even know what time it is anymore. One, maybe two in the morning? We aren't the only people in the waiting room though, with one lonely, angry looking gentleman sitting against the wall opposite B and me. His eyes are glued to the television humming quietly in the corner, a bitter scowl twisting his harsh features.

We aren't the only ones hurting right now.

"You need anything, darlin'?" I ask, running my free hand in a manner I hope to be soothing over her exposed forearm. "I could go grab us all some food or coffee or—"

"Or you could go home," Cliff offers spitefully. "We don't need you here, interloping on a personal family matter."

"Daddy," B says wearily, lifting her head from my shoulder to face her hostile father. "Wyatt's just offering a simple kindness." Her voice is tired, threadbare from all of the emotion of the evening.

I release a slow breath, determined not to let Cliff's venom poison my relationship or my attitude. Somebody here has to be levelheaded and strong. Tanzie means the world to me, but she isn't my mother, bringing me some clarity and distance from the draining despair of the situation. I steel myself against the barbs of the old man, who's acting like a petulant child, resolving to be a man worthy enough of walking Colby through these cruel circumstances.

"Excuse me," a small, weathered woman says. "Are you Mrs. Byers' family?"

"Yes," Colby and Luke say simultaneously, rising to their feet. Colby's trembling with the uncertainty of the news headed her way.

Watching her is breaking my heart in two. I know she's strong, resilient even. But losing a parent, no matter how long you have to come to terms with it, is an indescribable shock that sears to the very depths of your soul. It extinguishes a piece of you permanently.

Ask me how I know.

I reach for her hand, intertwining our fingers in the hopes that I can lend her a fragment of strength. Truth be told, I don't have much myself. This night is hittin' me right in the memories.

I glance at Cliff, who hasn't even bothered to stand. He eyes the old woman expectantly but looks more put out than anything else. I wanna punch him right in his smug-ass face.

"What is it?" Colby continues.

"We've got several more hours of testing," the nurse says gently. "You may consider coming back in the morning."

"So that's it then?" Cliff demands, arms crossed over his chest.

"That's all I can tell you for now," she continues shyly. "My apologies. I'll return when I have more, uh...news." She backs away from us, a sympathetic glint in her eyes, only to turn and zip down the corridor. There's no doubt in my mind that she's eager to remove herself from Cliff's judgmental gaze, and I don't blame her. I'm usually the one on the other end of it.

"Luke and Colby, let's head home," Cliff grunts. "There's no reason for us to stay here any longer, though Wyatt might want to, seeing as he's so devoted to this family."

"Actually, I'm not leaving yet either. That's ok, right?" she asks me quietly.

"Sure, B," I say, rising to stand beside her.

"I'm gonna stay too, dad," Luke mutters, moving to stand on Colby's other side.

"Right," Cliff huffs, running a hand through his thinning hair. "Well then, I'll go be the reasonable one and get some sleep." Without another word, he exits the waiting room. I hear the ding of the elevator, gliding up to our rescue.

As soon as Cliff is confined by its four walls, the dark mood amongst the three of us seems to taper off a little. It doesn't change why we're here, or the mountain of emotion that we're facing, but it does allow us to confront the situation the way we need to. The way we choose to.

...

"Dammit Luke, I swear you're doing that on purpose," I groan as Luke beans me in my swollen eye with a Skittle.

"Not like it's gonna get any uglier at this point," Luke snickers, taking aim once more. This time the Skittle sails effortlessly into my mouth.

We've been through three bags of Skittles so far, and I have two more in my pocket on reserve. We got our second wind after Cliff took off, all of us aggrieved and bored. I proposed this activity for several reasons, not the least of which was levity. We were drowning in our melancholy moods.

Also, I was hungry.

"Y'all are gonna make yourselves sick," Colby says knowingly. I don't disagree with her, but the smile our antics bring to her face makes it worth it to me.

"You tapped out after half a bag, B," Luke scolds. "Just cause you can't take the heat..."

Out of three bags, we've only dropped about twelve Skittles. Truth be told, my stomach is feeling kinda sour. I soldier on though. It's the first time all night I've seen any light in Luke's eyes. The kid loves a good competition, so this stupid game is just the ticket. I used to play with my dad, only we used popcorn. Made my mom crazy, which just made the two of us love it even more.

I blow out a slow breath, preparing for Luke's next missile. He's puttin' some mustard on those little candies. I ignore the churning feeling in my belly, determined not to be the next one to bow out. Luke may be competitive, but so am I.

"Babe, you're lookin' kinda pale," Colby says, eyeing me warily.

"Of course he looks pale, sis," Luke asserts. "He's painted up like a sparkly vampire."

"I know," she continues. "But..."

But nothing. I clamp a hand over my mouth and make a run for the bathroom.

...

I didn't want to leave, but we didn't have much choice. I'm hella sick, shits and all.

"You feel better after your shower?" Colby asks.

No.

"Yeah," I say, a blatant lie. Though I washed in hot water, I've got cold sweats and shakes. I'm pretty sure it's food poisoning, and the only thing Colby and I didn't share tonight was that damn blueberry pie. There's no need for her to know that though, as it would only serve to make her feel worse.

"Good," she says from where she's perched on the edge of my bed flipping through various boxes of medicines. "I got Luke set up on your couch, and I'll stay in here with you. I left a note for your mom on the counter so we won't scare her in the morning."

"Thanks, baby," I say, crawling under my covers. Colby hands me a few pills and a glass of water. I don't even bother to ask what she's giving me. She places a bucket next to my bedside before crawling into bed next to me.

"I hope you'll feel better in the morning," she whispers, stifling a yawn as she wraps an arm tightly around my waist. Looks like I get to be the little spoon tonight.

"Me, too," I mumble, dropping out of consciousness the moment my head hits my pillow.

...

"Morning," B says, propped on her elbow lying next to me. "How do you feel?"

"Better," I say. I woke several times last night to puke my guts out, but feel surprisingly well rested. I brush my fingers over her cheek, and B smiles down at me adoringly.

"Please go brush your teeth, babe," she says giggling, escaping my arms as I attempt to wrap them around her. "I'll meet you in the living room." She exits my room in one of my t-shirts, winking before she closes the door behind her.

When I saunter into the living room, I find Luke seated at the bar and Colby in my mother's embrace. They're speaking softly, each with tears filling their eyes. Luke stares at a plate of toast before him, pointedly ignoring the scene.

"You don't hesitate to call me," Mom says, taking Colby's face between her hands. "I will be there for you, no matter what."

"I know," Colby nods, swiping her fingers across the rims of her eyes. "Thanks, Maryanne. Can I help you with breakfast?"

"Certainly!" Mom chirps, handing Colby a carton of eggs.

The two of them set about prepping a breakfast that, despite my churning stomach, smells amazing. Luke and I take up residence on the couch, flipping on a Longhorns football game while we wait. The rapport between my mom and Colby warms my soul, the two of them joking and chatting away in the kitchen like...like mother and daughter, really.

"Breakfast is on!" Mom croons, and Luke and I are to the kitchen in the blink of an eye.

I load my plate down with pancakes, eggs, and sausage, and I'm just pouring myself a glass of orange juice when I feel a tap on my shoulder.

"Hand it over," Mom says, gesturing toward my pile of food.

"What?" I demand. "I'm hungry and empty!"

Mom takes the plate right out of my hands, passing it to Luke, who smirks at me.

"You get this, my love," Colby says, presenting me with a plate of unbuttered toast and a banana. "You can't have a night like you just had and fill up on all that heavy food."

"It's part of the BRAT diet," my mom begins. "Bread, rice—"

"Applesauce, toast," I finish, rolling my eyes. "Yeah, yeah, I know."

Luke snickers unabashedly at my plight, and I elbow him in the ribs. He groans, returning the favor as we make our way back over to the couch. Luke digs into my plate of eggs and pancakes, while I work my way through piece after piece of dry bread.

"Mmmm," Luke sighs. "This is some breakfast, Maryanne!"

I eye him sideways, and he cackles with glee. He knows exactly what he's doing. Colby and my mom talk quietly where they're seated at the bar, and Luke sneaks a pancake onto my plate.

I smile at him gratefully. He's like the little brother I never had. In fact, this feels so achingly natural. Like a family all its own.