Love Her Wilde

On Empty: Asher

I was starting to feel like I was stuck in that movie. Ya know, the one where the guy lives the same day over and over and over again? I'd wake up, I'd go to work, I'd go to the hospital and then I'd go home. Day in and day out, all while Ace used my apartment as a home base for his own investigation.

The doctors had begun weaning Dylan off whatever meds were being used to keep her in a coma. I'm sure they'd told me the name at some point, but my brain was too much of a jumbled mess to remember. She hadn't woken up yet, but her condition kept improving, so the medical staff was optimistic. I would've taken any glimmer of hope anyone extended my way, so I chose to believe them, even though the negative voices in my head were getting louder with every second her eyes didn't open.

Another at least moderately bright spot, was that since Ace's heroic entrance, the cops had pretty much left me alone. I knew they were still digging around (as was Ace) but at least I hadn't been forced to listen to their accusations for a few days. I just prayed at some point they'd find the real suspect instead of focusing on me. No one else thought I had anything to do with this, not Shayne, not Stefan, not any of our friends, so why Chicago's finest were so focused on me and manufacturing my guilt, I'd never know.

Work was going well. It was at least a welcome distraction from worrying about Dylan. Not to say I didn't worry, but at least, for a moment, I could focus my attention on something else. I forced myself to. I couldn't just live in the hole that the attack had created. It would've sucked me in and spat me back out a completely different man, and I wasn't about to allow it to. I needed to be the best version of myself: hopeful, optimistic, calm. I needed to not let the darkness take over because if...

No. WHEN Dylan came back to me, she would need all of the comfortability I could give her and slipping into my own debilitating darkness was not an option.

Noodle had been staying with me the last few days, so it was nice to feel like I had a piece of my girl with me. I got all the slobber and snuggles from the confused pupper as I could handle, and then more. It was evident he knew something was off, but we were each other's shoulder. He made me feel better and, I could only hope that somewhere in his doggy brain, I was doing the same for him. Dogs really were man's best friend.

As I was headed home the next Tuesday night, my phone chirped with a text. I had always been the guy whose phone was always on silent, but ever since Dylan had been in the hospital, I'd turned the sound on, so I never missed an update. And this time, it was a very vague text from Shayne:

"Come ASAP."

Instant panic coursed through my veins. My heartbeat ratchetted up and my head started to spin. I rushed to my car, texting Shayne, and when he didn't respond quickly enough, calling. But he didn't answer the calls either. I was practically shaking with nerves as I pulled out of the parking garage and raced toward Chicago Memorial. When Shayne wouldn't answer, I called Ace and warned him that something had happened. He tried to reassure me, but it all felt on deaf ears, as I headed toward the hospital.

I sprinted through the ICU ward, drawing attention from anyone in the hallway, but I barely saw them. All I could see was Dylan's room at the end of the hall and my legs were determined to get me there.

"What's going..." I froze in the doorway.

I don't know what I expected to see. I guess, I imagined running into a room filled with nurses and doctors, or a crash cart or something. The darkness in my brain had most assuredly taken control on the drive over. Hell, I didn't even see Shayne or Stefan, even though they were both sitting there grinning at me. All I saw, all I needed to see, was a wide pair of molten chocolate eyes staring up at me from the hospital bed.