Chapter: When the Breath Comes Back
He slid down until he was sitting on the cold tile floor, his back against the wall, knees pulled up slightly. For a moment, Jackson just stayed there, eyes closed, listening to the distant sounds of the hospital—rolling carts, muted voices, the soft squeak of shoes against polished floors. Life moving on around him, indifferent yet constant.
His hands trembled when he finally looked at them.
He hadn't noticed before. Not during the waiting. Not during the talking. Not even when Pearl's fingers had curled around his. His body had been running on something sharper than adrenaline—fear mixed with hope, tangled so tightly he hadn't been able to tell them apart.
Now that hope had a shape.
Jonathan stepped into the hallway quietly and stopped when he saw Jackson on the floor. He didn't say anything at first. He just leaned against the opposite wall and let the silence sit between them.
"She fell asleep again," Jonathan said after a while. "Peacefully."
Jackson nodded without opening his eyes. "That's good."
"You should sit on an actual chair," Jonathan added lightly. "You look like you're about to become part of the building."
That earned a weak breath of a laugh from Jackson. He pushed himself up slowly, joints stiff, and rested his head back against the wall.
"I thought I was ready," he said. "For whatever happened next. I told myself that if things went bad, I'd survive it somehow." His voice dropped. "But when she moved her hand… I realized I don't want to survive without her. I want her here. Fully. Annoying me. Correcting me. Stealing my food."
Jonathan smiled. "She does have a talent for that."
Jackson opened his eyes and looked down the hallway, toward Pearl's room. "I wasted so much time pretending I was fine with distance. With silence. Like it made me stronger." He shook his head. "It just made me lonely."
Jonathan considered that. "Maybe strength isn't about holding everything in," he said. "Maybe it's about knowing when to let it out."
Jackson glanced at him. "Since when did you become wise?"
Jonathan shrugged. "Hospitals do that to people."
They stood there together for a few moments more, then Jackson straightened. "I want to go back in."
Jonathan stepped aside. "Go."
The room felt different now—less tense, like the air had finally decided to breathe again. Pearl lay still, her face softer than before, the lines of strain eased away. Jackson moved closer, careful not to disturb her.
He sat and watched her sleep.
It struck him how fragile everything was. Not in a dramatic way—just quietly, honestly. How a normal day could fracture without warning. How words left unsaid could suddenly become heavy with regret.
"I don't want to do that anymore," he murmured. "The silence. The waiting."
He leaned forward, resting his forehead briefly against the edge of the bed. "When you wake up… I'm going to tell you things properly. Even the messy ones. Especially those."
Pearl shifted slightly, her brow furrowing as if she were listening from far away. Jackson stilled, his breath catching again, but this time he stayed calm.
"It's okay," he whispered. "I'm here."
Hours passed gently. Nurses came and went. The light outside shifted from pale afternoon to muted evening. Jonathan brought back two cups of bad coffee and placed one beside Jackson without comment.
At some point, Pearl's eyes opened again—just a little wider than before. They didn't focus right away, but they didn't close immediately either.
Jackson leaned in. "Hey," he said softly. "No rush."
Her gaze drifted, unfocused, then stilled. Her lips moved, barely.
"Jack…"
The sound was faint, broken, but unmistakable.
Something inside him cracked—not painfully, but completely. Tears blurred his vision before he could stop them.
"Yeah," he breathed. "I'm here. You've got me."
Her fingers twitched again, and this time she held on.
Outside the room, Jonathan watched through the glass, a quiet smile tugging at his mouth. Whatever happened next—recovery, setbacks, long nights and slow mornings—this moment mattered.
The silence had broken.
And this time, it didn't rush back in.