"Tristan, I know it's your day off, but I need you at the hospital. It's Courfeyrac. I don't know what happened yet, but I need you. He's here alone, Tris. Please hurry. I'm not sure what to do and his doctor won't let me in to see him."
Tristan frowns as he listens to the voicemail, quickly going out the door, calling his brother as he did. “Is he in the ER or someone else?”
"Don’t do that,’ Tristan shook his head, pulling his brother close against his side as they sat, "This was not your fault. He would have come anyways, he loved hanging out here with you. You’re like a little brother to him. He’ll be fine, don’t worry," Tristan pressed a gentle kiss to his temple.
Courfeyrac needed to wake up before they could put him under again for surgery, to make sure that he was strong enough. After a few hours, his eyes opened, though the pain he was in made him wish that he was still asleep. He got his wish as soon as the doctors put him under, wheeling him off for surgery. The Combeferre brothers were notified. “All good news so far.” The nurses reassured the younger man.
Pierre knew that his coworkers would do everything they could for Courfeyrac. He knew that they would make sure that Courfeyrac had the best care possible. But he couldn't stop worrying about his friend. He stayed at his brother's side until Courfeyrac was brought back in from surgery, climbing on to the hospital bed next to his friend and holding his hand, waiting for him to wake up. "What will we do, if he's hurt worse than we think?"
