Bared To You

A year ago

"What do we have here?" inquired Dr. Garcia, one of the attending doctors, addressing the paramedic.

"A male, 19 years old, victim of multiple gunshot wounds. His blood pressure is 90/60. We administered one liter of saline during transport; he lost a significant amount of blood." The paramedic replied.

Upon being transferred from the gurney to the emergency ward bed, the patient was fitted with an oxygen mask, and sensors connecting to a heart monitor were attached to his body. Immediately, the alarm sounded, indicating a very low pulse.

"He's going into cardiac arrest," Garcia's colleague, Dr. Saunders, announced.

"Is the defibrillator ready and charged?" Dr. Garcia swiftly asked.

"Ready, doctor." A nurse responded.

"150 joules! Clear!" The shock was administered, but there was no response from the patient.

"200 joules! Clear!" The shock caused the patient's body to arch off the bed, but there was still no response.

"He's gone,"  Saunders stated as the asystole appeared on the monitor screen, indicating no vital signs.

Determined, Garcia climbed onto the bed, initiating chest compressions while murmuring something under her breath. After about sixty seconds, the monitor finally registered a pulse, beeping at a slow pace. Lately, it seemed she was dealing with a string of 19-year-olds, but thankfully, this one survived unlike the last.

"His pulse is back," Saunders breathed in relief as Dr. Garcia stepped away from the bed. "You did a good job, Dr. Garcia."

"Is operating room two available?" Garcia inquired.

"Yes, doctor."

"Good. Let's prepare him for surgery. His vitals are stable now." Dr. Garcia stated.

"Yes, doctor."

~~~~~

Stepping out of the operating room through the sliding electric doors, Dr. Garcia was immediately approached by her patient's family. Amidst the crowd, she identified the boy's parents. 

"Family of Maximillian Sebastiani?" She asked formally. 

"How's my son?" Leonidas Sebastiani, the father, demanded.

Dr. Garcia reassured him, explaining the severity of the situation. Despite a close call, Maximillian had survived. His vital organs were intact, but the blunt force trauma had necessitated the removal of his spleen. She informed Leonidas about the challenges, including the difficulty in moving his arm for a few weeks due to a shoulder bullet wound.

However, she couldn't provide a definite timeline for Maximillian's recovery from coma. He would be closely monitored in the ICU before being transferred to a private room once stable.

"You're very sure none of his organs were damaged? Liver, heart, kidneys are fine?" Leon inquired.

Dr. Garcia nodded, a faint smile on her lips. "Yes," She affirmed. "The shooter likely wasn't a professional and just wanted to scare Max, but ended up pulling the trigger. Fortunately, there were many exit wounds, no broken bones, and no damaged tissues or arteries. He's incredibly lucky to be alive, Mr. Sebastiani."

"I sure hope I do not get my hands on him," muttered an older man who bore a striking resemblance to Leonidas Sebastiani. Dr. Garcia guessed he was the renowned Andrei Sebastiani of Blue Bird Corporation. Despite nearing seventy, he appeared ageless, exuding vitality.

"As this is a case of attempted murder, the authorities have been informed, and they'll interrogate your son when he wakes up," she explained.

"Of course," Leon agreed. "Can I see my son, please?"

"In a minute. A nurse will come get you when it's time. Two at a time, please," Dr. Garcia instructed.

"Thank you." The family acknowledged her as she walked away.

"Thank goodness he's alright," Max's brother, Julian Michel, breathed, recalling the fear he felt when he received the call about his brother's hospitalization. Max had only been discharged a few months ago, and now he was back in the same hospital.

"When he's discharged, we're all going back home." Leon declared firmly to his children. "You guys don't have any business here anymore."

"But, daddy... What about my boyfriend?" Annabeth questioned. "I can't just leave Carson."

"I'm sorry, sweetheart, but it's final." Leon stated. "Carson can always pay you a visit."

"Mom," She turned to her mother, her eyes pleading.

"I'll talk to him." Her mother whispered, understanding her daughter's concern. It was a long shot that her husband would agree, but she was willing to try. For now, her primary concern was her first child's recovery, and nothing else mattered.

******

Maximillian

A week later

Six months ago, I caused a car accident that took the life of my best friend, leaving me with injuries treated through reconstructive surgery, making me whole once more. I also ended the life of a woman returning home from the grocery store, leaving her six-year-old daughter waiting. 

I shouldn't be alive. I didn't want to be alive, but waking up to the distant beeping of a machine reminded me that I had survived the shooting. Upon opening my eyes, I wished the accident had robbed me of vision, plunging me into darkness. No such luck; the overhead lights made me wince, and I shut my eyes. When I dared to look again, a pair of brown eyes, shimmering with tears, met mine—it was Mom. 

"You're awake," She said, smiling. She tenderly kissed my forehead and turned away as the door swung open, revealing my father. "Leon, get the doctor. He's awake."

After dad closed the door, mom turned back to me, wearing her usual smile and a grateful expression in her eyes. I couldn't fathom her happiness, considering I was far from happy about my survival. But then, no mother ever wanted to bury a child before they had the chance to depart this world themselves.

"How are you feeling?" Mom inquired.

"Like hell," I croaked, my throat parched and painful. "Water."

I had just taken a sip from the straw cup when the door opened, revealing dad accompanied by a female doctor, the same one who had tried to save Darius, and a nurse holding a chart. Dr. Garcia conducted a swift examination, asked some questions, and then jotted something down on the chart the nurse was holding. She turned toward my parents, her face lit with a relieved smile.

"He's more susceptible to various illnesses after his spleen removal, so he'll likely need vaccinations and antibiotics for viruses lifelong to manage any infections," She explained to them. "Other than that, he'll be fine."

"When can I leave the hospital, doctor? I despise being here," I grumbled.

"In a few days," She replied. "You can't move your arm due to the bullet injury in your shoulder, so your assigned physical therapist will assist you..."

"I already have a physical therapist. I'm sure he won't mind adding an injured shoulder to his list," I informed her.

"Very well," Dr. Garcia smiled. "I'll prescribe medication to help alleviate the pain, and I hope you won't get addicted to it."

"Nope, I won't," I assured her.

"Perfect," She beamed, pivoting on her heel and exiting the room.

"The police will be here to interrogate you about the incident, so try your best to remember everything," Dad told me. "Once you're discharged from the hospital, we're all going back home."

"Can't I stay? I might be called to testify in court when the shooter is found and arrested," I asked.

"There won't be any need for that," Dad declared. "Whether you testify or not, the perpetrator will be locked up for life. I'm going to make sure it happens."

Talking to Dad when his mind was made up was like pulling teeth. I could plead with Mom to talk to him, but I knew, from the look on her face earlier, that she wouldn't want me out of her sight. The only person who could help me right now was Aunt Annaliese.

******

Two months later

Annaliese Godson, seated on a wingback chair in the living room at 2 am, anxiously anticipated her errant nephew's arrival. She pondered how to explain Max's behavior to his father, the man she'd vowed to keep his son safe for. 

Under her care, Maximillian Sebastiani had transformed, indulging in risky pursuits that could lead to grave consequences. His coping mechanism, stemming from the loss of his best friend, involved heavy partying and dangerous activities. Annaliese preferred he displayed this behavior under his father's supervision, as her older brother Leonidas, whom she loved dearly, frightened her more than their father did.

The door unlocked with a click, prompting her to jump to her feet and rush towards it. Before she reached it, the door swung open, revealing her 19-year-old nephew stumbling inside, clearly intoxicated.

"Aunt! My lovely aunt," He slurred, pushing away from the door and closing it behind him. She had hoped a change of environment during their vacation in South Korea would help him, but it seemed futile. 

"It's two am, Max. I was worried sick about you," She said, her concern evident.

"I'm fine," He replied dismissively, brushing past her and heading to his suite. He bumped into the couch but managed to steady himself, singing, "Fine, fine, fine."

"No, you're not," Annaliese muttered, grabbing her phone from the kitchen island. She quickly scrolled through her contacts, found her sister's number, and dialed, putting the phone to her ear.

"Hello?" 

"Ina, I need your help," Annaliese said urgently. "How quickly can your private jet reach Korea? Max has to be sent home without his consent."

"Finally!" Ina sighed in relief. "Are you at the hotel? The plane just landed."

"You're here?" Annaliese asked, surprised.

"Did you think I'd leave you to handle that boy all by yourself?" Ina chuckled.

"You're the best," Anna said, smiling. "He just got home from the club wasted, so it'll be easy to get him out."

"I'll be there in the next hour. Get his bags ready."

"Sure. Love you, sis."

"Love you more." After the call, Annaliese quietly entered Max's room, found him asleep on the bed fully dressed, and began packing his bags. 

She felt remorseful for handling things this way, but she knew his parents were the only ones who could take care of him. He would be angry at her for betraying his trust, but she hoped he would understand one day.