Broken (a Wesley Stromberg fan fic)

Twenty Two

Wesley's POV

My knees went weak, I wanted to just sink to the ground and cry, looking at Skye broke my heart. It wasn't just her injuries that killed me, I had already seen her in hospital with the arm and leg casts. Although she had taken off the bandages from her face and I only now saw the bad grazes down her cheek and neck. But she looked tired, thin and pale, I could tell she had been crying and her face was still filled with sadness. "Want to come in?" she offered in a soft voice, I just nodded, I had no words at this point. I walked past her into the house and waited for her to close the door. I watched as she hopped back into the living room, wincing with every movement and I reached out take her arm and help her. She instinctively pulled back, "Don't" she snapped, "I need to do things for myself" she explained in a gentler tone. I hated having to just watch her in pain, knowing I could help but I had to respect her wishes. I waited for her to settle in on the couch, taking in the room, it looked as if she had been sleeping on the couch, which was weird. I noted her crutches leaning against the wall and rolled my eyes at the thought she wasn't using them, but rather hopping around.

She was wearing my tank, which filled me with pride, and shorts which meant I could see that her arms and legs looked thinner than when I saw her before the accident. I tried to put it down to the fact that she was in a coma for 4 days, but that didn't explain why she looked like she hadn't slept for days. I sat down in an armchair across from the couch where she was sitting, inspecting her face as she looked up at me. Her eyes were red from crying and it wasn't just the scratches that made her not look like her usual self. "What the hell happened?" I sounded harsher than I meant to but I was overcome with anger at the idea she wasn't taking care of herself properly. She shot me a weak smile, "I was hit by a car" she joked. Her flippant attitude annoyed me even more, I knew anger wasn't the most helpful emotion but seeing the girl I loved so beat up and joking about it was too much. "That's not what I meant" I spat, "You look like you haven't eaten or slept in days" I accused her. She rolled her eyes, "Not you too" she quipped, clearly she had heard this before. I continued, ignoring her, "We are all worried about you Skye" and she rolled her eyes again. "Well you don't need to worry, I'm fine" she responded casually.

I moved to sit next to her on the couch, "You're not fine Skye" I said, this time more softly, wanting her to know I genuinely cared about her well-being. "Ok, I'm not fine. I have a broken leg and a broken arm but they'll heal" she was being so blasé about everything, she was going overboard trying to convince me this whole thing was no big deal. I was furious that she wasn't taking this seriously, I could tell she was in pain and miserable but she was acting like she was ok. "It's more than that Skye, and you know it" my voice much louder now, "Tell me what's going on" I demanded. She just sat quietly, picking at her blanket, making it obvious she wasn't going to answer me. Unable to contain my anger, I stood up from the couch and paced up and down the living room. "DAMN IT SKYE" I yelled, looking towards the ceiling, running my hands through my hair in frustration. "You should go" I heard Skye say, her voice quiet but I could tell she was pissed. I snapped my head to look at her, "I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what is going on with you" I warned her, my voice steady but stern. I watched as anger took over her face, "JUST DROP IT WESLEY" she yelled at me. She was so infuriating, "NO! TALK TO ME" I lost my cool entirely.

"What do you want to know Wesley?" she hissed. "That I'm miserable, that I'm in pain, that every single part of my body hurts? Does it make you feel better to know all of that?" her words causing my anger to dissipate and my stomach to drop. "Do you want me to admit I haven't eaten or slept in days? Fine, I haven't" she furiously carried on, I felt sick. I wanted to stop her, I had heard enough but I knew there was more, there was always more when she started up like this. And I needed to hear it, as much as it hurt to, I needed to know how she was feeling if I was going to help her. "Does it help you to know that all I've done for days is sit here on this couch and feel like utter crap. And for whatever reason all I seem to have the energy to do is cry?" I grimaced as tears welled in her eyes. "And I don't even know what...I'm...crying...about" she started to sob as she finished her sentence. My heart broke, I knelt down in front of her and took her right hand in mine. "Skye" I said softly, trying to hold it together, "You were in a major accident. You're bound to feel like shit but you can't keep pretending that you're fine for everyone". Skye pulled her hand from mine, "I don't need your pity Wesley. This is isn't your problem" she said flatly. I reached up to wipe the tears that had spilled onto her cheeks, I looked into her blue eyes and pleaded with her, "Let me help you".