Rock Bottom

“You can’t keep coming here every single night like this, Lina. Look at you. You’re shaking.”

Her brother’s voice came out thin, barely louder than the beep of the heart monitor beside his bed. He tried to sit up, but the effort made him wince and sink back against the pillows.

Lina dropped her bag on the chair and crossed the small room in three steps. “I’m fine. Just tired from the shift. Move over a little so I can sit.”

“You’re always tired,” he said, scooting an inch. His hand found hers, cold and light. “Tell me the truth. Did they call about the new test results yet?”

She squeezed his fingers, forcing her face to stay calm even though her stomach twisted. “They’re still running them. Doctor said maybe tomorrow. But you know how these places are. Slow as hell.”

He let out a short laugh that turned into a cough. The sound rattled in his chest. “Slow. Right. Like the last three times they said that and the bill just kept growing. Lina, I’m not stupid. I hear the nurses whispering when they think I’m asleep.”

“Stop it.” She leaned closer, brushing damp hair off his forehead. “You’re going to get that treatment. I’m handling it. I always handle it.”

“Handling it how?” He searched her face. “You already picked up extra hours at the diner. You’re sleeping maybe three hours a night. I can see the circles under your eyes from here. If you drop dead from exhaustion, who’s going to fight for me then?”

Lina swallowed hard. The words stuck for a second. “I’m not dropping dead. I’m right here. Remember that time you were eight and I carried you home after you fell off your bike? I told you then I’d never let anything bad happen to you. I meant it.”

“Yeah, and back then I weighed like fifty pounds,” he said, trying for a grin. It came out crooked. “Now I’m the one dragging you down. You should be out living your life, not stuck in this room every night.”

“Living my life?” She gave a sharp laugh. “My life is this room right now. You and me. That’s it.”

The door opened behind her. The doctor stepped in, chart in hand, looking like he hadn’t slept either. “Lina. Good, you’re here. We need to talk.”

She stood up fast, heart kicking against her ribs. “Is it bad? Tell me straight.”

The doctor closed the door softly. “The degeneration is accelerating faster than we projected. The experimental treatment overseas is still the only option that gives him a real shot. But the cost…” He glanced at her brother, then back to her. “It’s gone up again with the new round of tests. Insurance won’t touch it. We’re looking at a down payment of fifty thousand just to get him on the waiting list.”

Fifty thousand. The number landed like a punch. Lina’s mouth went dry. “Fifty… I don’t have that. I barely made rent last month after the last hospital bill.”

“I know,” the doctor said quietly. “We’ve been trying to hold off as long as we can, but he’s in pain most of the day now. We can manage symptoms here, keep him comfortable, but comfortable isn’t a cure.”

Her brother spoke up from the bed, voice cracking. “Doc, give us a minute.”

The doctor nodded and stepped out.

Lina turned back, throat tight. “Don’t say it. Don’t you dare say what I think you’re about to say.”

“I have to,” he whispered. “If it’s this much money, maybe it’s time to stop pretending. I don’t want you selling your soul for me.”

“Stop.” She sat on the edge of the bed, voice dropping low. “You’re my little brother. The only family I’ve got left. I’m not letting you slip away because I can’t scrape together some stupid number. I’ll find it. I’ll work double shifts, sell everything I own, whatever it takes.”

He looked at her for a long moment, eyes shiny. “You already sold everything. Remember when you pawned Mom’s necklace last year? You cried in the car after. I heard you.”

“That was nothing,” she said quickly. “This is different. This is you.”

A nurse knocked once and poked her head in. “Pain meds are due. You want them now?”

“Yeah,” her brother said. “Make it quick.”

While the nurse adjusted the IV, Lina stepped to the window and stared out at the city lights. The glass felt cold against her forehead. She could hear the beep of the monitor slowing a little as the meds hit.

When the nurse left, her brother spoke again, softer this time. “Lina?”

“What?”

“If I don’t make it through the night… promise me you won’t blame yourself.”

She spun around. “You are making it through the night. And every night after. Don’t talk like that.”

“I’m serious.” His voice wavered. “You’ve carried me long enough. If this is it, I want you to live. Really live.”

The words hung there. Lina opened her mouth to argue, but the monitor suddenly let out a sharp, long beep. Her brother’s eyes widened. His hand clutched the sheet.

“Lina—”

The door flew open. Two nurses rushed in, voices overlapping. “He’s desatting! Get the crash cart!”

Lina froze beside the bed, heart hammering so hard she couldn’t breathe. Her brother reached for her hand one last time, fingers slipping as the nurses pushed her back.

“Stay with me,” she choked out. “You hear me? Stay.”

The room filled with urgent voices and beeping machines. She stood there, pushed to the wall, watching them work on the only person she had left.

And in that second she knew—she would do anything, if it meant he opened his eyes again.