Chapter Text
“I’m sorry, his family has already made the decision to end his care.”
That was a lie. Alex had read his file. Yassen didn’t have any family. Maybe that was just the story Scorpia had fed his doctors.
But Alex could work with this. His tone turned indignant, “I’m his family, you can’t just let him die!”
“You’re his family?” Alex could see the doctor wondering why he’d never shown up at the hospital before.
“Yes, he’s my brother. I thought he was dead.” Close enough. “But now that he’s alive, you can’t just… I can’t lose him again. What’s wrong with him?”
A disbelieving huff, “His medical records have him down as thirty-four.”
Alex choked down hysterical laughter, “Well my dad started young, had a wild youth, what can you do? Why isn’t he waking up?”
The doctor visibly sized up Alex’s age, her eyes caught on the scars edging up his arms. He shoved his hands into his hoodie pocket and her voice snapped back into the professionally even, carefully sanitized cadence that had echoed all around him as he’d slunk through the facility trying to find Yassen’s room. “Your brother was brought in with traumatic heart failure and excessive blood loss after his accident.”
Well he’d found Yassen’s room now and even his doctor. Or she’d found him, lurching straight into Yassen’s room the minute he caught sight of his blond eyebrows and firm jaw, without even thinking to check for any medical staff going about their duties. What a terrible spy he made. But he couldn’t quite manage to regret his haste when the doctor had admitted to performing a routine end-of-life assessment before removing the life support.
“He entered a coma when his brain was unable to receive enough oxygen before reaching adequate medical care. The good news is that he was in a coma for no longer than a few days. His other medical conditions have stabilized,” Alex assumed she was referring to the gaping hole in Yassen’s chest from the last time he saw him. How he ached to press his head into Yassen’s chest, to confirm that his heart still beat for himself, “and he has remained in a minimally conscious state for the past three months.”
She hadn’t even let him get a proper glimpse of the man, ushering him out of the room post haste. Alex had surprised himself with a moment of blinding rage when she’d reached over to pull him out into the corridor. Had had to drop his head to hide his expression, while he focused on not lashing out. He couldn’t afford to scream at Yassen’s doctor, not when she seemed to be the only one in charge of his care. He’d never been an angry person, he wondered when that had changed. The doctor had tried halfheartedly to convince him he was in the wrong place, but maybe something in his reaction tipped her off that he was closer to Yassen’s world than hers. It would be funny if he’d gotten the wrong man. Alex had to suppress a giggle at the thought.
The doctor was still explaining Yassen’s medical condition, Alex guessed she was trusting his claim of being family even though they looked nothing alike. Doctors at shady mob hospitals probably weren’t always given identification and family information on their clients and they probably didn’t like to ask too many questions either. This was important and he tried to focus on her explanation. But it wasn’t really sinking in.
He’s a vegetable. The hysteria screamed from the back of Alex’s mind.
“However, you must understand, his chances of recovery are slim, and even if he should happen to wake up right now, brain trauma leaves lasting marks.” He wondered how often she had to give this kind of spiel. It sounded practiced. It sounded like it was winding down now. What had he missed? He hoped his brain had managed to log some of it away for later review. “Even in the best case scenario he will need years of extensive rehabilitation just to reach a state where he can live independently. He may never make a full recovery. He likely won’t be the same person as what you remember.”
That was ok, it wasn’t like Alex had really had the chance to get to know him anyway, not before he’d taken a bullet for Alex.
“But this is the UK, you can’t just take someone off life support like that. I’m not stupid.”
The doctor looked uncomfortable. She hadn’t stopped looking uncomfortable the entire time they had been talking in this deserted corridor. She coughed softly. “Your brother isn’t an officially registered patient of the hospital.” A glance as if to check whether he was aware of Yassen’s job description. Alex kept his expression steady. “He was delivered to us through his employer. As his employer has discontinued their payments, we do not have the resources to continue his care.” She winced, mincing her words around the illegal assassin belonging to a struggling international crime syndicate aspect of Yassen’s care, “I would not recommend that you alert NHS to his hospital stay.”
That was somehow even worse. Scorpia hadn’t yet gotten around to terminating Yassen’s treatment as they had planned to after three months of no improvement.
Instead this was Alex’s fault.
Scorpia was on its last legs by now, management too busy scrambling for survival to care about one of their ex-operatives. There might not be anyone left who knew that Yassen was here and kept alive by the life support machines they were paying for. Had paid for. Sometimes it seemed like every single good thing Alex tried to do just made things worse. His takedown of Scorpia had directly resulted in the hospital deciding to kill Yassen once the money stopped coming in. Or was it that they were covering up their own illegal activity now that Scorpia had fallen and they might be implicated? Probably both.
But if it was just the money, Alex still had a chance.
He looked up and realized that the lines lurking around the doctor’s eyes were drawn in pity. Some cold part of his brain clicked into action, his gaze automatically widening and shoulders tilting in a way that emphasized his youth.
“Please! He’s all that I have,” he started with, tracking the curl of fingers as she clutched her clipboard before she forcibly relaxed them, “…left, he’s the only one left, please.” Well that had come out a bit more honest than intended. He’d have to untangle just why he was so desperate to save an assassin he barely knew later, but he leaned into it now, peering up through his sweaty bangs to meet the doctor’s eyes before glancing back down at where his fingers were twitching in the pouch of his hoodie. “Please, just let me take over the fees and I’ll make sure you get paid on time.”
He could see her wavering. “Nobody has to know. It’ll be like nothing’s changed at all. My uncle…” God, Alex had no idea why he was doing this. The devastation at the thought of Ian Rider must have seemed genuine enough to the doctor at least. Marie, her badge said Marie; emotional connection can increase your chances of persuasion Alex, whispered Ian from the back of his head. He let his voice hitch on another please, “Dr Marie, our late uncle left us some funds on his passing.” Our uncle. Ian must be turning in his grave.
But he couldn’t think about that right now. Lay it on a little thicker. “You can’t let him die as well, not after our uncle just died last year. Not after I just found out he was still alive.” You’re fourteen, Alex reminded himself. What did fourteen year olds worry about? Was his age helping or would it just make her think he couldn’t pay up? He hoped she wouldn’t call CPS on him.
He felt so disconnected from reality that when he had a flash of Tom talking about his summer vacation with his brother in Italy his mind grabbed on and “Who else is going to take me on vacation, if he dies?” fell out of his mouth, even as the memories of all the trips he’d gone on with Ian ushered in another rising tide of pain.
Stupidly though, that seemed to convince the doctor. Although maybe she was just sick of Alex’s wailing. Alex was sick of Alex’s wailing. But she, Marie, you need to be on good terms with her, call her Marie, she scribbled down a number on a corner of the chart and then another.
“This is the monthly fee and this is the account number.” She said, pointing to two numbers that were almost the same length. “The last payment was due at the beginning of the month.” It was currently the 10th. “I can delay for another week before people start asking questions and,” she cut him off, voice suddenly harsh, “they will ask questions. If they do I won’t be able to guarantee anything. Deposit the amount in the bank account by next Friday with a note that it’s for Ward 207. Here’s the bank name. We don’t take cash.”
She patted his shoulder, then tore off the numbers and pressed them gently into his numb fingers. That awful pity was still there, but it was useless now.
There was no way Alex could come up with that amount of money in a week and she knew it.
This wasn’t the first time a patient’s family had begged for reprieve, not even one of their more unconventional patients, and it wouldn’t be the last. Marie was surprised, however, when the boy somehow managed to scrounge up the entire fee the very next week and then every month after.
She occasionally pondered over what the boy might have done to come up with such large sums of money, but she was quick to dismiss it as none of her damn business. And if she’d fudged the records after the first payment came through to mark the patient’s identity as dead and then re-entered him into the system under the clean identity of a different, recently deceased patient with no family, that was also none of anyone’s business.
That poor boy deserved a break for once.