That same day, as soon as he was done with work, Dooku took the gamble of driving to the hospital. It was a bit of a gamble, not knowing if Sören was at the local hospital in Corvallis or if the accident had happened farther out and he was in Portland or somewhere else. And if he wasn't in Corvallis, it was going to be risky to drive farther out, after the freezing rains all weekend that had created patches of black ice. As it was, Dooku drove excruciatingly slowly to the hospital when every nerve in his body was screaming Go faster. Step on it.
At the desk Dooku said, "I'm here to see Sören Sigurdsson, if he was admitted. Please tell him it's Nicolae Dooku."
He waited in the lobby for close to twenty minutes and then a nurse came out and gestured for him to follow.
All the way to the hospital room Dooku's heart was in his stomach and his stomach was in his feet, worst-case scenarios playing through his mind of Sören paralyzed, mangled...
Sören was hurt less badly than he thought, half-sitting half-laying in a hospital bed, bandaged ribs. His left arm was in a sling. He gave Dooku a wan smile.
"May we have some privacy?" Dooku asked the nurse.
The nurse gave Sören a worried look. Sören nodded at her. "It's OK," he said.
The nurse left them and Dooku pulled up a steel folding chair, sitting at Sören's bedside. He reached for Sören's right hand and for a moment he just stroked Sören's hand without thinking much about what he was doing, looking into Sören's eyes. His own eyes started to tear up. At last Sören squeezed his hand and let go, reaching for a glass of ice water.
"How bad is it?" Dooku asked.
"Concussion, dislocated shoulder, four broken ribs." Sören frowned. "Some wounds from the windshield shattering which needed stitches. Otherwise... well, I was lucky. My car was totaled."
"What happened to..."
"Amazingly, he only had a few scrapes." Sören's frown deepened.
"Which would explain why his own car is missing, I assume he's gone to work and such, then."
"Yeah." Sören looked down and sighed.
Dooku's jaw set. He felt that rage building up again. "Sören... answer me honestly. I know there was black ice out there, but... the accident was Seth's fault, wasn't it?"
After a moment Sören nodded. He looked away - far away. Sören's body began to tense, and Sören winced in pain. "He..." Sören swallowed hard. "I didn't want to drive out there in the first place in that weather. We were fighting about that before we left. Then he got on my shit in the car because I was driving too slow..."
"Jesus Christ."
Sören looked back at Dooku. Their eyes met. "He went off on me. All the usual shit he says, now with an added dose of calling me a coward. He hit me, and something in my brain just snapped and I hit him back, for the first time. He started choking me and I lost control of the wheel. Which was also when I hit a patch of that black ice that was 'worrying about nothing'."
Dooku's fists clenched. He made an inhuman growl.
"The police just assume, of course, that it was a regular road accident." Sören sighed.
"When are you being discharged?" Dooku asked.
"Tomorrow. I'm taking the rest of the week off from work and then winter break starts after the 12th, which is fine 'cos it's six weeks to heal from broken ribs and about twelve weeks to fully heal from the shoulder, even after being reset. That's the nice thing about teaching, though, when we're back in session in January I should be fine to go back, my job's not super strenuous."
Dooku's brow furrowed. "I'll come pick you up when you're ready to go. But... you're not going back to Seth."
Sören pursed his lips.
Dooku couldn't believe he was offering this. "Come stay with me for a few weeks, while you heal. Through the holidays. I'm always alone for the holidays, and you're not really in a position to take care of yourself all banged up."
"You... you don't have to do that..."
"Yes. I do."
Sören looked down.
"I believe this entire holiday season is about celebrating the birth of a boy whose parents had no place to go and were taken in by a kind stranger. We're not exactly strangers -"
"I'm not exactly Jesus," Sören said. Then with his good arm he pulled up the blue hospital blanket around himself, like a cloak, face sticking out. "Do I make a convincing Mary?"
Dooku facepalmed. It was so bad - especially with Sören's facial hair - and he couldn't help laughing. It felt good to laugh. It was remarkable that Sören could find humor, somehow, in this situation.
When Sören put the blanket back down and their eyes met, Dooku felt a wistful pang, seeing Sören smile. He wanted to make Sören smile like that more often. He wanted very much to make him happy.
"But it's not simply some do-gooder urge I have, Sören. You're a friend. I care about what happens to you. And I'm afraid for you." Dooku's voice broke. He felt tears coming on again, tears reflected in Sören's own dark eyes. This time Sören was the one to reach for his hand. "He. Put. You. In. A. Fucking. Car. Accident. He could have killed you, Sören."
"I know." Sören closed his eyes, tears silently streaming down his face. "I know."
"So when you're discharged tomorrow... I'll come get you. I will take you to your house, help you pack some things, and then... you stay with me for awhile. I'll take care of you. OK?"
Sören nodded. "OK."
Then Dooku realized something. "You don't have my cell number and I don't have yours."
They exchanged numbers. The nurse came back with medication for Sören, who took it with more water. Dooku looked at the time. "Can I get you anything?"
"Jæja... Sprite? Ginger ale? Something sweet with bubbles. Doritos too." Sören laughed softly. "The pain meds are making me all stoned, I want munchies."
Dooku smiled - something about Sören right now was adorable to him, and he felt indulgent, like when his cat was being cute.
"My wallet is on the table over there..."
"I'll pay," Dooku said. "I'll be right back."
Dooku went to the lobby, bought 20 ounce bottles of Sprite and ginger ale, and a couple small bags of Doritos of different flavors. He came back and Sören's face lit up. It made Dooku sad that something so small would make him that happy.
Dooku did the courtesy of opening a bottle and a bag, and he watched as Sören started nibbling. Sören held out the bag to him with his good hand. Dooku politely refused.
Dr. Phil was on the TV in the hospital room, though neither of them were really paying attention to it, and then Sören finally noticed it and laughed. "Jesus Fucking Christ, I need Dr. Phil," Sören said, rolling his eyes.
Dooku patted him. "The road to recovery starts here, Sören. You'll be away from Seth, and... with time, he'll fade out of your life."
"He may not give up so easily," Sören said, raising an eyebrow.
Dooku's jaw clenched. "I'll deal with him," Dooku said through grit teeth.
Oh, how he was going to deal with Seth Robinson.