#steadyyhands

Raphie hasn’t left her bedside since he got here--it’s been a long, long night, and he is more than exhausted after the ambulance ride and everything else. He gets up despite the sleepy aches and turns the lights off for her. It’s a lot better once it’s dark, although it is hard to see. He doesn’t mind; the fluorescent lights were giving him a headache after these last few hours, too.

“Uh no, Momma,” he says, quietly sitting back down, “you had a heartattack. I mean, that did make you fall pretty hard, but uh, ‘s more serious than that. You, um,” he fiddles with the string in his hands a little absently, “you actually died, for a minute there. They had to resuscitate you.”

She’s right, though. She is breathing now. She’s breathing, and she’ll be alright. Raphie focuses on his knot--just a few loops here, a couple of tugs there. He knows the Emperor’s Hat by heart, now. It’s difficult to tie--especially in the dark--but that’s what keeps his attention, having to tie and retie and start all over when his shaky hands miss a loop. He doesn’t have the chronic tremors like she does, but he’s been nervous. He sneaks a glance over at her before getting back to his knot.