Eventually, Patrick growled unhappily, "I'm done."
Sean slowly turned and picked up the bedpan Patrick peed in as if it was natural, emptied it, and cleaned it up before returning it to the ward.
After that, he returned to the washroom and washed his hands.
It seemed like a deliberate gesture to Patrick, as if to convey his disdain.
And when Sean was done, he simply sat on the couch nearby.
Both men did not say a word, leaving the ward in deathly silence.
Patrick suddenly found it uncomfortable. He decided to restrain himself and ask, "How's John?"
Sean looked up at him, surprise showing in his eyes as he appeared caught off guard that Patrick would ask about John.
"Do I look that cold to you?" Patrick demanded right then.
"Nope." Sean smiled faintly. "Well, he's still comatose, and he suffered worse burns than when he was caught in that hotel fire. There's so much bandage around his face now he looks like a mummy."
What the hell kind of a description was that?!
Sean then asked, "Want to visit him?"
"Nope." Patrick refused.
"Oh," Sean replied.
"No, it's not like I can't stand him," Patrick quickly explained, somehow upset that Sean thought him selfish for that.
"I never said a word." Sean was perplexed.
"That look on your face is like saying I'm not understanding—like I'm still worried he would steal Cordy from me when he's about to die," Patrick snapped.
"Of course not," Sean agreed, though Patrick found that response half-hearted.
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