The Last Architects

Chapter Thirty-Four.

 I hadn't been so mad in such a long time, fuming as I stormed out of the director's office, my lawyer following in my wake.

"Sir, once we are told who made these claims we will be able to make a case. And it will have to be revealed if the said victim presses charges."

"But will Ema still be expelled?" I adjusted my glasses, looking back at Mr. O'Connor.

"That... depends on the college and the proof he can come up with." I took a deep breath, glancing at my phone, immediately picking up my pace.

"Start building something, anything. I have to get back to Ema." His response was lost to me, five hours. Five hours of arguing over such lies. God, I hope he was ok.

There were no texts or calls from him, which formed a rock in my stomach. He could just be sleeping. Probably. Most likely.

My running footsteps echoed down the dorm halls, though I slowed as I approached the door to our room. Catching my breath before opening the door, greeted by a dark room, only the bathroom light on. He was just sleeping. I let out a relieved breath, turning on my phone flashlight to avoid stepping on anything, making my way to Ema's bed but my body froze up at the sight of crushed MDMA pills scattering the ground. Fuck.

Lifting my phone I saw Ema staring at me from his bed, his hand clenched around a bag of the shit. Without thinking I stepped forward, yanking the bag from his hand.

"What the fuck, Ema? This isn't how you deal with this! Fuck, did you already take a dose?!" I glanced at the bag, which was half empty. "... You- you didn't take more than two, right?" I stared at him to check for the symptoms, stumbling back when he shoved past me.

"Screw off already! My life doesn't concern you, so stop caring!" I couldn't help but stare at the amount clearly missing from the bag, what he was going to do suddenly hitting me like a train.

"Stop caring?! You can't just control what others feel to make you feel better! That isn't how life fucking works!" I grabbed his arm, pulling him back to face me. "You can't just give up because it got a little hard, I'm not letting you do that!" My grip on his arm tightened, frustration boiling up in me.

When he turned to face me, the sharp pain spread from the side of my face, his hand held to his shoulder from the hit he had thrown. "And why am I not allowed to make choices for myself then!? I can't tell you what to do but I can't do what I want, either?! What kind of Bullshit is that! I- you can't tell me- or keep me from doing things just because you feel bad!" He yelled through sobs. "'A little hard,' how dare you have the nerve to say that to me!"

"Then tell me what you are feeling! Fuck sake, you don't keep shit boiling up till you try to take your life! I'm not losing you to that!" I took both his arms, pushing him into the wall. "You feel like shit? Hit me! You feel miserable? Cry on my shoulder! Anything, literally anything other than fucking suicide! And that's because I CARE!" His hair fell into his face when I shook him, unable to properly express the fear and anger his action caused.

Ema glared up at me through his hair, his breathing became labored and something immediately felt off. "I didn't ask you to! Do you know how much harder that makes everything?! I-I didn't- I didn't- Just let me go!" He looked away, his cheeks flushing, and his skin against my hands began to heat up, "stop touching me- and let me go! I'm sick of you, okay?! I hate this- I hate- I- hate everything and you!"

"Ema. EMA!" I took his jaw, pulling his face to mine, searching his eyes. "Did you already take some pills?!" My hands shook just as hard as his, his tears dampening my fingers as his legs began to falter under him, trying to withhold the tears that only came faster, and when he pushed me back I only took him into my arms as he fell, his labored breathing suddenly much more serious.

It was out of instinct.

Immediately picking him up, collecting my medical kit and a glass on my way to the bathroom along with my phone. I wasn't thinking, just running over the rules the emergency medic had given me when I had found my mom in the same state.

Cool him down, glass of charcoal water, call the ambulance, give him dantrolene, keep him cool and pray that the medics get there before it's too late.

My own voice sounded distant as I spoke with the emergency dispatcher, holding Ema to my chest as the cold water from the shower covered us, his breathless whines giving me just the littlest bit of hope that he would be fine, his body shaking aggressively against mine, eyes half closed. And after the essentials were given to the dispatcher, I tossed my phone, getting the charcoal ready with water from the shower. Being firm in having Ema drink the glass, but he was already too weak to fight me off at all, his head rolling back like a doll.

"Hold on. Please, just please hold on." I took the dantrolene from the kit, forcing it down his throat, his arms already ridgid by his sides. "Just a little longer, yeah? The ambulance is on its way." I couldn't see well anymore, whether that was because of the cold water covering my glasses or the hot tears forming in my eyes, I couldn't care less. I could only focus on keeping my hand to his chest, making sure he was still breathing, that there was still a heartbeat.

I couldn't lose him.

. . .

I paced the halls of the hospital, outside of Ema's room as the doctors' worked on him, unable to stop the tears running down my face, shrugging off any comfort offered by the nurse. He would be ok. He had to be ok.

And when the doctor finally opened the door, I froze, looking at him with growing dread as he took off his glasses.

"He's going to be fine. We stabilized him and were able to prevent any organ failure. He won't be waking up till tomorrow. You can come inside in 20 minutes once the nurses have finished."

Relief had me stumbling to the wall for support. I felt like I could breathe again, my chest hurt and head span. "Thank you, doctor." I whispered.

"Of course, son. You did well too, how did you know to give him dantrolene?"

"I almost lost my mother in the same way." I leaned my back on the wall. "20 minutes then I can stay in the room? I want to stay by his side..." I had failed him... and I wouldn't do it again.

"Mhm, the nurses will tell you when." The doctor nodded, "I'll be back in the morning to check in but everything should be fine. Goodnight, young man."

I watched him leave, waiting across the door, counting the seconds of each minute until the door opened and the nurses walked out, the blonde one giving me a nod.

"You can come in. But you cannot disturb him." She let me inside. "You are his friend, correct?"

"Yes, Sky Rand is my name." I paced to Ema's side quickly, his still form on the bed looking peaceful, my legs giving out, my knees throbbing from the fall. He was ok. I pressed my head to his mattress, closing my eyes as tears filled them.

"Does he have any family we can contact?" I looked up at the nurse, hardly hearing a thing.

"His name is Ema Straka. He has a mother, but I don't know her number or anything. I'll get in contact with her if she proves hard to find." I reached out hesitantly to take Ema's hand, holding it gently.

"Ok... I'll come talk to you if we run into any troubles." I nodded, gazing at Ema's sleeping form, tears still crowding my vision. At least they weren't shed over a grave...