"Sorry..."

Ted couldn't look his uncle in the eyes. There was this crushing weight on his chest as his face turned to the side. He stared at the tube sticking out of his arm.

"Sorry?" his uncle chuckled as he raised an eyebrow. "What do you have to be sorry for?"

Ted was silent.

His uncle leaned back in the chair he was sitting in. "Hmm.." his uncle mused.

A thin curtain was all the privacy they had, but it did its job. Only the minor lull of conversation droned in the background. The curtain didn't quite reach the ground, and the occasional shoes could be seen shuffling by.

Ted was lying down on what was essentially a stretcher with white sheets. To be fair, the alleged sheets were so thin and yet stiff that they only seemed to give off the vague impression that they were made to cover a bed. Attached to the inside of his elbow was a small tube that was covered by a white bandage. The tube went up to a clear bag suspended in the air by a metal pole. The bag was half full of a clear liquid that slowly dripped into the tube connected to Ted.

His uncle lifted his ankle up onto his knee while to cross his legs. As he moved, he let out a small groan, like you'd expect to hear from an elderly father in a sitcom. He tapped his hands absentmindedly against his legs as Ted stared at the tube sticking out of his arm.

He knew the bandage covered the needle that had pierced his vein. He was conscious enough for that part. Something about it fascinated him. All the strange connectors they had, and how efficiently they were able to sort through everything when he had no idea what had been going on.

"You know," his uncle mused. "I've been thinking. It's weird how people avoid these places, huh? I mean they're here for a reason, yet some people would heat a knife on the stove to close a cut before coming here."

Ted felt a surge of ache pulse in his heart. Of course people didn't come here. The bill was enough that despite the good work done, it was avoided like a restaurant with only one star reviews.

"Why don't...why don't we leave now?" Ted finally managed to say.

"Huh?" his uncle made a questioning noise as he relaxed in the chair. He lifted his hand and scratched his bearded cheek. "I don't think they're quite done with you yet."

"It'll be fine," Ted said as his stomach twisted into knots while his mind raced with thoughts of the bill steadily increasing every second for every drop that poured into him. "Besides, they just want me to wait here anyway."

"Is that so?" his uncle shrugged as if he had completely missed the urgency in Ted's voice.

"I'll be fine. I was just dumb. I don't need to be hooked up to stuff here. I'll get better on my own." Ted glanced over at the strange remote that was hooked up to the bed he was on. A button labeled, call nurse was a slightly faded red and right at the top.

He thought about pressing it. About demanding his release. But then he imagined the kind of fees that would be added for demanding personal service from a highly trained professional. It was like everything here was designed to make you pay more money. Yet somehow his uncle seemed completely unbothered by it all. Why? How?

"I hear you, but why don't you just let the doctor make that decision, huh?" his uncle suggested.

Ted couldn't help but think that the doctor would want their bill to be larger than it needed to be. That he would keep him here as long as possible to fill some quota for the hospital.

"But..." Ted started to try to argue, but his uncle immediately cut him off with a sigh.

"If not for the doctor, then could you do it for me?" his uncle asked. "It'd really ease my mind if we just waited things out here. Just in case."

Ted turned his eyes from his arm and to the bottom of the curtain. He could see some sort of stain near the bottom. Like someone had flicked a paintbrush covered in brown paint towards it.

"You gave me a real scare back at my place." his uncle continued. "I'm glad things seem better, but I'd like to be sure. I'd hate if something happened to you nephew."

Ted felt the ache in his heart increase. It pounded like an angry solicitor on an elderly widow's door. Why? Why did his uncle act like this? It didn't make any sense.

His uncle seemed to sense this lack of comprehension in Ted as he said, "If you're worried about something as silly as what this will cost, don't be. Sure, you don't have insurance, but that's...well, I'm sure you can understand how rough things are for your folks."

Ted knew. Things were always rough with those two. It was always something. An endless stream of somethings that constantly sprung up.

"And because of those dang laws, you can't be covered under the one I've got through the state, but..."

This was it. Ted should have known. First his parents, then his grandparents, so why not his uncle too? He had even less claim to Ted. So why wouldn't he?

"Your health's important. Much more important than something as silly as money. Things will work out. They always do."

Ted was stunned. "But...it wasn't even serious..." he argued.

"Not serious?" his uncle chuckled. "You fainted, and I thought that was going to be it for you since I'm too far out for any phones to work."

"Yeah, but..." Ted gulped. "It turned out I was just dehydrated. I...it was just because I wasn't drinking enough."

His uncle let out a short laugh. It was warm, and somehow, it seemed to dissolve away some of Ted's anxiety.

"And I'm glad some well trained professionals were able to clear that up for us and give you that IV drip." his uncle said. "I'm glad it isn't something worse."

"But..."

"No buts there Nephew," his uncle said firmly. "You're far more valuable to me than something silly like money. I'd blow everything I had to make sure you were alright and wouldn't regret it for an instant."

Ted gripped the rails on the sides of his stretcher/bed as his eyes threatened to burst forth with tears. He fought that urge as hard as he could. It was just so strange to hear someone say something like that. Especially to him.

"Now, let's get over this leaving early nonsense. We're going to stick around until they kick us out, alright?" he continued. "Worry about lying there and getting more hydrated, and you let me worry about the cost, okay?"

Ted opened his mouth to say something, but as he started it became clear that the wall he had built to hold back his tears would break if he said anything. So, he just nodded his head up and down.

"Now that's more like it." his uncle said as he nodded to. "Seriously, this has been such a relief. Even if the price tag is a million bucks, it will have been worth it. Phew. I thought I'd need to go in with you for my heart for a while there, haha!"

He wanted to thank his uncle. But he couldn't cry, not in front of him. He had to be strong. But, he also was sure that his uncle knew. He had always been so perceptive, how could he not realize something so obviosu?

And so, the conversation died down and the two of them just waited in that small room with the flimsy curtain separating them from the world. And for that brief time, the two of them were, in a word, happy.