BOOK TWO | bellamy blake imagines

46. bleeding love part two

To make matters worse, there was still no word from Bellamy. It was now close to eight o'clock, which was nearly three hours past your scheduled meet up, and you weren't sure when you would actually get the chance to see him again. It was awful not being able to tell him what was going on. He must have been so worried about you and even more, you craved his support in this time of fear and uncertainty. You could very well lose your father tonight and you needed Bellamy's strength to hold you together in this pressing moment.

When Dr. Griffin finally entered the waiting room, you still weren't ready for the harsh reality of having your father leave this world. Thankfully, that wasn't a truth you had yet to realize.

"He's expected to make a full recovery," Dr. Griffin said, gently rubbing your arm.

"Thank you," you said, breathing a sigh of relief. "Thank you so much."

Dr. Griffin informed you that your father was currently resting in the post-anesthesia care unit, but he wasn't awake yet. She hoped that maybe if he heard your voice it would coax him to open his eyes.

You entered the recovery room and found your father lying in a hospital bed. He was connected to an IV, a nasal cannula wrapped around his head, and various wires that extended to monitors were attached to his torso. You had never seen him look so weak before, so brittle and it scared you.

It grieved you to think that your child could grow up without any living grandparents. Sure, Bellamy had a lot of experience from raising Octavia, but you knew nothing about child-rearing. You would both be brand new parents and would make a lot of mistakes without proper guidance. Your father wasn't perfect, but he raised you singlehandedly and you valued his wisdom. You needed his experience to help maintain a healthy growing environment for your child.

You took your place by your father's bedside. You gripped his cold hand in yours as you spoke. "Dad, you have to wake up," you started in a breathy tone. You placed his limp hand against your stomach. "This kid is going to need a grandpa like you around."

You felt his hand twitch and watched gratefully as his eyes opened to the sound of your voice. He stared back at you through hooded eyelids and a faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, confirming that he'd heard every word you said.

The relief you felt quickly passed away as you realized that your father's shooter was still on the loose and you desperately needed to get to the bottom of this unfortunate occurrence. Now that your father was awake, he could tell the guards who the perpetrator was and they could apprehend them immediately.

"Dad, who did this to you?" you asked, leaning in close to him.

You saw his smile hastily vanish as he remembered his attacker's face. His tired eyes stretched open and his pupils dilated. His expression was petrified and eerie as if he was staring directly into the eyes of the devil. The sound of his shallow breathing and the beep of the heart rate monitor seemed to increase in volume as you waited for his answer.

"You don't have to worry, sweetie," Thelonious replied hoarsely.

Just then two guards entered the room, undoubtedly seeking the same information that you were after. They greeted your father with a firm "sir" as they stood at attention.

Your father squeezed your hand and the tension in his face lightened. "Go home and rest," he finished.

You exited the room, allowing your father to speak in private with the guards, but your curiosity was getting the better of you. You left the door cracked behind you, holding your ear close to the opening so that you could listen in on their conversation.

You overheard a guard speaking in a muffled voice. "Sir, the only person unaccounted for is Bellamy Blake."

"It was him," Thelonious responded quickly. "He was the one who shot me."