FIGHT

Chapter 12

"Really. I appreciate it and everything, but I don't need a wheelchair."

I start to get frustrated with the sweet nurse. She's just doing her job, but it's really starting to annoy me. I've told her multiple times that I'm fine. I just want to see Holden.

"The doctor said you have a mild concussion. It's recommended that you don't really walk around or anything."

With the pain killers they gave me, it's pretty much impossible for me to get a headache at this point, but I swear this lady is trying to test the potency and efficiency of the meds.

"Look, I know what's recommended, but I feel fine. Please just leave me be and tell me what room he's in."

Holden's face pops into my head. He would have an aneurysm if I entered his room in a wheelchair. Assuming he's awake, anyway.

They told me he was stable, that he was going to be fine. I think at that point they were worried that I had passed the point of sanity. I wouldn't stop screaming and yelling, demanding them to take me to him. Even now, I refuse to believe what they told me until I see it for myself.

I think my tone may have frightened the nurse, but she quickly scurries out of my patient room and I'm grateful.

She pops her head back in, but only for a second, "He's in room 312."

I nod, silently thanking her before closing my door. They forced me to change into a stupid hospital gown so they could examine all of my injuries. Nobody seemed to realize that I wanted them to attend to Holden only, not me. He was the one with the real injury.

Of course the rational part of my brain knew that the hospital had people attending to us both, but I wanted all of the attention focused on Holden. I knew I was going to be okay, but I was terrified for him.

I pull on the cotton shirt and shorts that the nurse handed to me earlier. Lucky for me; that dress was matted with blood and is not something I ever want to wear again.

When I'm sure the clothes are in their proper place, I examine myself in the small mirror they provide in each room. The cut on my head is surprisingly smaller than expected. All of the blood is cleaned off of me and my skin is completely clear, practically highlighting the various bruises tainting my body.

I take a deep breath, turning away from the mirror. After everything that's happened, I shouldn't feel giddy like I do. Something else I noticed in the mirror? My eyes are lit up as bright as fireworks.

My bare feet pad against the white tile, carrying me back to the door. I'm honestly not even sure which hospital we were taken to, and the surroundings are completely unfamiliar. Most of my injuries over the past couple years have just been taken care of at home. There would've been too many questions otherwise.

And today I'm going to have to answer all of those questions.

Granted, they didn't tell me it was today, but I have a feeling it is. With my concussion and Holden's knife wound, questions are inevitable. And since I'm the one with the past including Luke, it's my duty to answer them.

I step foot into the hallway, ignoring the glances from passing doctors and nurses. The signs are easy enough to follow and I make my way as quickly as I can to Holden's room. I'm absolutely aching to see him. I need to see that he's okay.

When I reach the 300s, I slow down a bit, not wanting to accidentally pass his room. My head moves from side to side, checking the numbers by all of the doors. Finally, I reach 312. The door is closed, but I take liberty upon myself to go in.