If Marilyn Manson had 3 Days to live: The Conclusion Story

Hello Beautiful

"Hey." Brian said sternly, stopping in front of him. The sweating that the guy did didn't look like a good sign.

"Hi sir!" He trilled, his voice cracking.

"How is she?"

"Honestly, she was in shock and that's why she stopped responding. She's a lot better now, I made sure of that for you. She's in there waiting. .  ." Ted paused, seeming struck with an abnormal realization. "Hey. . . don't I know you from somewhere?"

Know me? Brian thought. Fuck.

"No you don't."

"Yes. Yes I do. You look too familiar. . .are. . .are you-?"

"You dropped something." Brian said, taking the door knob and beginning to enter.

Ted looked at his shoes and saw a $100 bill. 

"That's not mine." Ted said honestly, still stooping to pick it up.

"Yes it is." Brian assured, closing the door behind him.  

 To Brian's earnest surprise, Alice was propped comfortably on a large pillow, watching him enter. Her arms were on identical trays parallel to her lying down body. A clear line running into each of them filled with IV, while a second one provided blood transfusion steadily into her. She was looking normal again. Even normal enough to open with a joke.

"Next time, can you please be the one taken to the hospital?" she said weakly.

He was overcome by a warm, relieved feeling. For the first time in forever, he breathed freely and felt relaxed. He pulled a chair next to her, sitting with a less proper composure, stooping forward where his elbows rested on his knees. Evidence of a bullet wound on her was gone except for a scar the size of a dime. 

"How long have you been awake? Long?"

"Not long." She was struggling to flinch loose hair back from her face, her arms were in no condition to move.

"Here, I've got it." He stood up and brushed it back behind her ear, pausing to look at her. He kissed her forehead then, "Thank you for holding on." He took a second to study her. He was surprised to see her arms moving. "Why are you shaking like that?"

"I don't know," she sighed, "I'm not making them do that." She shook her head, letting out a disgusted chuckle, "Annie made me cut so god damn deep. I might have neurological damage; I don't even feel my own hands! I promise, Brian, no more touching a cold sharp fiend to myself anymore . . .it's too childish. I'm never doing it again, it's behind me."

Brian didn't know she's hurt herself before. Maybe she thought he knew. He was mildly displeased, but he decided to save the questionnaire for another time.

"I owe you an explanation." he began, sitting on the corner of the cotton-white bed, "Obviously, I now have a child, who's birthmother is Annie Keller."

"How come you didn't know about it before? Where were you around the pregnancy?"

He sighed, saying the ugly truth, "I never knew. I was  . . .pretty lost three years ago. A raging alcoholic who buzzkilled my own life. Annie and I were dating around that era and I wasn't sober enough to realize she was  . . .demanding. I don't think I was conscious the night we had sex, even."

Alice sat up, "You mean you were . . .dear god, are you saying you were taken advantage of?"

 "I'd rather not split hairs." Men don't get raped. They just don't. He really believed that.

She rested back in her place, "It's okay. I really understand you. Being someone in a similar position, I'd just like to forget all about it. I won't press you on it."