Squids POV
I sit up in my bed and just stare. That's all I could manage to do. Stare. Was this really happening? Or was it just a beautiful dream? My mouth opens to try and form a sentence but no words come out. With all my might I just wanted to scram and cry tears of joy but I knew that it would either startle the other people here, or the doctor would think I was going insane. So I kept my mouth quite. My mind started going though the questions faze. Why was he here? How did he know I was here? Who told him?
The doctor sits Stampy back down in the wheelchair, wheels him so he's sitting next to my bed, and leaves us. Alone. Together. I reach though the thin bed sheets and put my hand in his and squeeze it tightly. This was probably the best moment I have ever had in a long time. An extremely long time. If it were my choice I would pull him up and let him rest here beside me, and just stay silent. Yet with all the tubes, wires, and drip's that he had, it would most likely just make him or me uncomfortable. Instead, I let him lay down his head on my lap while I ran my fingers though his hair.
It still hadn't sunk in that he was alive though. This felt like a wonderful, amazing, realistic dream. Even though I somehow knew it wasn't. Because everything felt...Real. In dream's, if you were on a beach, you couldn't feel the sand in between your toes. In real life, you could. I laid back my head on the hard, white wall and closed my eyes.
"I'm awake..." Stampy breathed, lifting his head up slightly.
"I know, how though?" He chuckled under his breath. It had seemed like ages since I've seen him smile properly. A real, genuine smile.
"Well...I woke up. Just like waking up from a nights sleep...Only scarier. My brain was messed up from all the medication so, for a while, I had no idea where I was. I started screaming out for you, which, of course, alerted the doctors, and when they relised what name I was screaming...One of the doctors called you to come in tomorrow to do some random talking therapy or whatever. But when you came in...They decided to just bring me to you. And I'm glad they did." He stretched forward a bit and kissed me on the tip of my nose before falling back into his wheelchair and rubbing his bruised fingers over my hand.
Stampys POV
I was so happy. Squid was alive, I was awake, and hopefully, soon, I would be able to go back home and get back on track with my life. Get it back to normal and try and stay away from as much drama as possible. Yet I knew this stay in this prison wasn't going to be a mere few days. I knew that it was going to be at least a whole month long...At least. That also meant I wouldn't be able to upload much. Apart from Vlogs...I could just do that fort he next few weeks or so. My subscribers hardly see my face, as honestly, I'm still kind of self conscious due to the bullying I received back in school. That's why I never got an Instagram. Yet most of my subscribers wouldn't care, would they?
My eyes glanced over at Squid. He seemed relaxed, almost sleeping. Maybe when we woke up I would ask if he could bring in the camera tomorrow, so I could start. At that moment the doctor walked in, holding four sharp needles in a cardboard tray. Dammit...I had to get my flipping drips changed again. Well...That would explain why I was starting to feel drowsy. I tightened my grip on Squids hand for a moment while he replaced every single one of the thick, yellow tubes.
The first two were my blood supply, as well as my fluids drip, which was the see though drips you always saw. The next one was the tube that went into my nose so I didn't stop breathing in the middle of the night, as well as the tube that went into my stomach, which was probably the worse. It was so I could get nutrients and stuff without eating. As my digestive system somehow got damaged. Jeez, if only I could remember what happened when I got hit by that train. The last thing I DID remember was seeing the pain quickly spread across Squids face the second my toe touched that track. Then...I woke up in the hospital.
Once the doctor bandaged my arm, stomach, and stuck some clear medical tape over the tube on my face, he handed me a pillow and left. The time was currently midnight, so I guessed that meant he was giving me permission to sleep here. Which was a good thing. I had to spend some alone time with Squid, even though we were in the hospital. The pillows her weren't the most comfortable, but nevertheless, I placed it on Squids lap and rested my head against the clean-smelling material.
It seemed to take ages before I could actually get to sleep. My brain just couldn't stop thinking about stuff that could easily be put off by tomorrow. How Squid got here, telling subscribers, how long until I was out, all that kind of stuff. It actually made me tear up a bit. There really was no point in doing it though. When has crying ever got me anywhere in life? Most of the time, it made thing's even worse.
I sat back in my wheelchair and glared up at the clock. 1:30. I can't remember what the time was when I first tried to fall asleep but I knew it had been at least an hour. On the bright side I was with Squid, which was a plus. I would much rather never sleep again and be with him, then sleep perfectly and never be able to see him. Even though I couldn't talk to him, as he was fast asleep, I still knew he was alive. Like I was a few days ago. Sleeping, but alive.
Jeez, it must've been horrible for him. Waiting around the wards until he had to go home waiting to hear any kind of news about me. When he went home I wondered what he told everybody. That I didn't make it? That he didn't know? That I was alive? Or didn't say anything at all? When he went into our bedroom that we shared, what did he do...Then...No...Could he have...Tried killing himself? No...Surely not! Then he would be breaking the promise that we made. On the inside cover of the photo-book, we scratched in a promise, more like a contract, that read:
'We will not harm ourselves any further. We will survive, make it though the tough times, and come out on the other side'
As soon as we signed our names at the bottom of it I hid my black box in the corner of the room, out of sight. In that black box I kept all of my razors, pills, and knifes. Even though it was full of bad things I still loved it dearly. Mainly because it was the last thing I got from a family member before she got put into prison. On the outside of the box, most people would think it looked ugly and horrible. As it is all damaged, scratched, and worn out from years of use. Yet on the inside it was laced with silk as well as other beautiful stuff. I loved it.
But only Squid knew where it was...No way he could've used the razors in there...No way he could've. Shaking, I reached out, grabbed his hands, and lifted the hospital gown sleeve up slightly. There was tons upon tons of cuts lacing his arm, 90% of them being knew ones. I felt sick. That's all I felt. Not disappointment, not anger, not fear. Just sick. I felt like I was going to vomit violently any second. I glanced all around the floor space in his bed area. Next to the curtain, was a bin. I stood up and slowly walked over to it, my heart pushing a hole though my chest with every wreathed step that I took.
I made it over to the bin just in time. As soon as my head was over it I literally think I threw up my insides. Ugh, I felt horrible. I stood back up and turned my head ever so slightly to face Squid. Much to my shock he had woken up, and now was sitting up straight and staring over at me with, what I would say, pained expression. He had his cut-up arm resting in his lap, and his other hand was running itself over the cuts. I took a deep breath and walked back over to my wheelchair and flopped back down into the uncomfortable, tiny space.
"Is that why?" I asked, basically saying if he was here because of his cuts.
"Yes...I'm...Sorry Stampy. When I just saw you...I had to do it. I'm sorry..." He replied, tears streaming down his face. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, jumped down, and wrapped his arms around my body. For a moment it felt weird, as my tubes were pressing ageist my skin and I hadn't had anybody that I knew personally touch me for a very long time. In the end I wrapped my arms around his back, not wanting this moment to end. Becasue, together, we had made it.
..............................................
Hope you enjoyed!
