Make Me Moan Mr Therapist.-Chapter 95: You can walk now?

Gabe opened his eyes slowly.

The first thing he noticed was the light, too bright, blinding enough to make him wince. His lashes fluttered as he tried to adjust, his head pounding faintly. The world felt hazy, distant, like he was waking from a dream he couldn’t quite remember.

Then his gaze shifted.

Fred.

He was seated beside the bed, slouched in the chair like he hadn’t moved in hours. One of his hands was gripping Gabe’s tightly, knuckles pale with tension, as though he was afraid that the moment he let go, Gabe might disappear again.

"You’re awake!!!"

Fred shot to his feet the instant Gabe’s eyes opened, his voice echoing far too loudly in the quiet ward.

"Thank goodness," he breathed shakily, squeezing Gabe’s hand harder. "I thought I’d already lost you, you bastard."

Gabe frowned, his throat dry as sandpaper. He turned his head slightly, forcing his heavy eyes to take in his surroundings. White walls. The steady beep of machines. The faint smell of antiseptic. Only then did he notice the IV needle embedded in the back of his hand, connected to a drip stand beside the bed.

A hospital.

"How the fuck did I get here?" Gabe rasped, his voice barely above a whisper.

He tried to sit up, immediately regretting it as pain flared through his chest. Fred was quick to react, moving behind him and supporting his back carefully until Gabe was half-reclined against the pillows.

"Easy," Fred muttered. "Don’t act like you weren’t shot."

He reached for the cup of water on the table, bringing it to Gabe’s lips. Gabe took a few careful sips, the cool liquid soothing his raw throat, before handing the cup back. Fred placed it down gently, his movements unusually careful.

Gabe exhaled slowly, his mind beginning to clear.

"Where’s everyone?" he asked. "Where’s Sabe?" His brows furrowed slightly. "That idiot is in jail right now, right?"

Fred’s expression darkened immediately.

"Of course that bastard is in prison," he replied bitterly. "After killing two people—Josh and Mathew—there was no escaping it."

He paused, jaw tightening.

"The baby in Mathew’s body didn’t survive," Fred continued quietly. "The doctors tried, but it was already too late."

Gabe’s chest felt tight.

"It had been more than five minutes," Fred went on with a heavy sigh. "If the doctor had arrived within that time frame, they might’ve been able to save the baby. But it was already over ten minutes by then. At that point, the survival chance drops to zero."

His gaze fell to the floor.

"Damien isn’t a doctor who delivers babies, and the emergency team arrived late. Probably because of the weather," he scoffed bitterly, "but honestly, everything in this country is terrible."

Silence stretched between them.

Gabe released a slow, shaky breath.

"Well..." he murmured, voice low. "I hope the baby comes back to life someday. Through good parents. Parents who will love and cherish him."

Fred said nothing.

After a moment, Gabe frowned again, something clicking in his mind.

"Wait." His eyes sharpened slightly. "Who threw himself in front of me?"

Fred stiffened.

"When Sabe shot," Gabe continued slowly, "someone saved me. Who was it?"

Fred hesitated, then sighed.

"That was Alex."

Gabe froze.

Fred looked apologetic. "I know you didn’t want him to know about your plan, but... I told him."

Gabe stared at him.

"He already knew," Fred added quickly. "Even before I opened my mouth. He and Damien actually saved David’s wife and daughter."

"What?!"

Gabe’s heart slammed violently against his ribs.

"Where is he?" he demanded, panic flooding his voice. "Did the bullet hit him?"

Images flashed through his mind—Alex collapsing, falling against him, blood everywhere.

"I’m sure it did," Gabe continued urgently. "He collapsed on me. I want to see him. Is he okay?"

"He’s in the second ward," Fred replied quietly. "Right next to yours."

That was all it took.

Before Fred could say another word, Gabe yanked the IV needle from his hand. Blood welled instantly, but he ignored it. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, wincing, but refusing to stop.

"Gabe—!" Fred exclaimed.

But Gabe was already lowering himself into the wheelchair. Fred knew better than to argue—Gabe could stand, barely, and once his mind was set on something, nothing could stop him.

He pushed himself out of the ward, heart pounding, and into the next one.

Damien was seated beside the bed.

Alex lay unconscious, an oxygen tube placed beneath his nose. His body was heavily bandaged—from his chest down to his waist—white gauze stained faintly with red. Machines surrounded him, humming softly.

Two doctors and two nurses stood nearby, quietly discussing his condition and jotting down notes.

"What?!"

Gabe’s voice cracked as he wheeled himself closer.

He grabbed Alex’s hand tightly.

"H-How come he hasn’t opened his eyes?" Gabe demanded, his chest burning.

He looked up sharply at the doctors.

"What’s going on?" he asked, panic seeping into every word. "Why isn’t he awake yet?"

One of the doctors—a middle-aged man—turned to him, his expression serious.

"The patient lost a large amount of blood before he was brought here," the doctor explained. "We attempted blood transfusion, but none of the available blood types were compatible."

Gabe’s breath hitched.

"What do you mean none worked?" he snapped. "How’s that even possible?"

His hands trembled.

"He’s a Beta," Gabe insisted. "Betas can receive blood from any group. They can even receive blood from Omegas."

The second doctor—a woman—stepped forward gently.

"That’s what we believed as well," she said calmly. "But his blood group is... unusual. It’s not something we’ve encountered before."

Gabe felt cold.

"But," she continued quickly, "he’s out of immediate danger now. His vitals are stable."

She glanced at Alex, then back at Gabe.

"All we need now," she added softly, "is for him to open his eyes. After that, we’ll know if there are any further complications."

She paused, then frowned slightly.

"And you said the patient is a Beta...?"

"Thank you so much, doctors," Damien said quickly, cutting the doctor short before he could continue. His tone was polite but firm. "You can go now. We really appreciate everything."

"Please inform us immediately when the patient opens his eyes," the male doctor added professionally.

Damien and Gabe both nodded in response, watching silently as the two doctors and two nurses gathered their files and exited the ward, their footsteps fading down the corridor.

The moment they were gone, Gabe wheeled himself back to Alex’s side.

He reached out immediately, clasping Alex’s hand with both of his and lifting it gently. With trembling care, he pressed Alex’s palm against his cheek, as if grounding himself in the warmth of his skin.

"You have to open your eyes soon, okay?" Gabe pleaded softly, his voice breaking. Tears streamed freely down his cheeks, soaking into the sheets. "You shouldn’t be the one lying here... it should’ve been me."

His breath hitched as his shoulders shook.

"You really have to get well quickly," he continued in a trembling whisper. "Please..."

"Uhmm... it’s okay, Gabe."

Damien spoke quietly from behind him, letting out a long, weary sigh.

"He’ll be fine," Damien added. "Alex has survived worse than this in the past."

The words hit Gabe like a thunderclap.

"What?!"

Gabe spun around sharply, shock and fear crashing through him all at once.

"Worse than this?" he yelled, his voice cracking. "What do you mean worse than this?! How?"

His tears intensified, spilling faster as panic clawed at his chest.

Damien stiffened.

"Calm down," he said quickly, swallowing hard. "It’s nothing. It’s in the past. It doesn’t matter anymore."

Gabe stared at him, disbelief written all over his face.

Damien broke eye contact, rubbing his temple. "Anyway," he added, forcing his voice to steady, "I need to get home for a bit."

He glanced between Gabe and Alex.

"Are you going to stay here and watch over him," Damien asked, "or should I stay instead?"

"I’ll stay," Gabe replied almost immediately, not even hesitating.

Damien nodded slowly, understanding clear in his eyes. Without another word, he turned and made his way out of the ward, leaving Gabe alone with Alex.

The room fell quiet again.

Gabe turned back to Alex, gripping his hand gently.

"You really have to open your eyes, okay?" he whispered. "We still have so much to talk about."

A sad smile tugged at his lips despite the tears.

"And... we still have more decorated rooms to go to together," he added softly. "But we can only do that if you wake up."

He inhaled shakily.

"We can’t let that Sabe bastard have the last laugh."

Gabe lowered his head, resting it beside Alex on the bed, tears rolling silently down his cheeks.

"I really need you to open your eyes," he murmured.

"Do you really mean it?"

The voice was weak—but unmistakable.

Gabe froze.

His heart stopped.

He lifted his head slowly, breath caught in his throat, eyes widening as he met Alex’s gaze.

Alex was awake.

Tears streamed down Alex’s face as well, his lashes trembling.

"Are you sure," Alex continued weakly, "that you’re not going to accuse me of having some hidden agenda again? Is that why I brought you to a decorated room, huh?"

"You scared me!" Gabe cried out, laughter and sobs colliding as relief flooded his entire body.

Without thinking, he threw himself over Alex.

"Ouch!"

Alex winced immediately.

"You’re hurting me," he groaned, pain evident in his voice.

Gabe jerked back instantly, panic flashing across his face.

"Are you trying to kill me completely," Alex added with a faint chuckle, "so I won’t be able to take you to the decorated room at all?"

Despite himself, Gabe laughed through his tears, wiping his face quickly.

"Are you hurting anywhere?" Gabe asked anxiously, brows furrowing as he looked Alex over carefully.

"No," Alex replied honestly. Then his eyes narrowed slightly. "But wait..."

He tilted his head, studying Gabe.

"Did you just stand before throwing yourself on me?" Alex asked slowly. "You can walk now?"

Gabe stiffened.

Of course he noticed, Alex thought inwardly, a smirk tugging faintly at his lips despite the pain. So... what kind of lie are you going to tell me now? Or are you finally going to tell me the truth?