Hang In There// P.P.

Chapter 66: Miracle.

They lost the pulse during surgery. Sophie Osborn was dead. They tried for twelve minutes to restart my heart, but it wasn't working. They had given up upon the arrival of the thirteenth minute. I remember being stuck in my mind, screaming for them not to give up on me, but they couldn't hear me. It was a battle between mind and body.
I remember gasping for air as I sprung up on the table, not really knowing the 'how?' of what was happening. Of course the doctor and nurses were confused, perhaps even shocked. My chest heaved up and down as I placed a hand over my heart, feeling it beating under my skin. Everything about the whole experience was surreal.
Then I remembered why I was here in the first place.
I urged the doctors to just let me go, that I felt fine, but they insisted that they kept me in for another few days, to make sure everything was a hundred percent okay.

"I'm on a trip, with my school. The flight leaves in two hours!" I explained.

But it did no good. They put me on a drip, that connected me to a blood bag, for a transfusion. The nurse told me it would take up to four hours, time I didn't have.

"Is this really necessary? I mean, I feel fine."

"You lost a lot of blood out there. Better to be safe than sorry."

She gave me a friendly smile as she walked out of the room, closing the door behind her. I knew they would be arriving at the airport soon, having to go through security and all customs. I started calculating the times in my head, coming to the conclusion that I could skip all the security and meet them in the waiting area, giving me roughly an hour and a half.

To pass the time, I created little sparks on the tips of my fingers over and over. At least I could still use my magic. The clock read '22:00'. I got up from where I stood and looked up and down the ward. Nobody could be seen. I closed the door shut and locked it. I put on the clothes they had left for me, obviously from the lost and found. Quickly, I tugged the drip from my arm, grabbing a bandage from the press and wrapping it around it tightly.
The handle of the door moved, signalling someone was trying to get it. Knowing it was a 'now or never' situation, I opened a portal and ran through.

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Seconds later I arrived in the bathroom. I scanned around me, hoping this was actually the airport. I checked my appearance in the mirror, my skin was sickly pale and there were bags under my eyes, other than that I looked like a normal teenager.
I took a deep breath before opening the door and walking out into the crowds. Despite the fact that it was late at night, there were still hundreds of people bustling about, trying to organise themselves. At that particular moment, I couldn't see any familiar faces. I ventured out further into the sea of people as I began my search for my classmates and teachers. As time went on, a small bit of panic started to grow within me. What if I didn't find them in time? They'd all go home believing that Sophie Osborn had died because of a tragic attack in London.

"Follow the cursed hand!"

Mr. Dell's voice caught my attention as I looked around me vigorously trying to spot where they were. About two minutes later I caught a glimpse of Mr. Harrington's hand sticking up in the air. They were on the other side of the large room. Without hesitation, I started making a beeline for them, dodging people as I walked quickly through the crowds.

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I found myself in an near empty hallway around fifteen minutes later. There were only three or four people passing through at a time. My pace slowed to a slow walk as my eyes darter around me, trying to figure out where they had gone.

"Ned! Just please stop talking about it!"

My head snapped in the direction of the voice. I heard Ned mumble a 'sorry' as they appeared behind a group of lads. I could see the familiar brown, curly hair over the heads of the group, and the familiar design of Ned's hat.

"Peter!"

His head immediately snapped up, looking around him.

"Ned, did you hear that?"

"Yeah, man."

A small crowd had congregated in the hallway as I pushed through them. Once I had a clear view of the two, I ran. Peter dropped his bags and took a few steps forward as I laced my arms tightly around his neck, unable to stop the few stray tears from rolling down my cheek. His grip on my waist loosened as my feet came into the contact with the ground once again. Peter brought his hand up to rest on my cheek as a relieved smile made it's way onto my lips.
I whispered an 'I'm okay', covering his hand with my own. My eye locked with his, red and puffy from obvious crying.
Seconds later Peter's lips connected with mine, his right arm snaked around to the small of my back, pulling me closer to him as his left cupped my face. I pulled away moments later, resting my forehead against him, cherishing the moment.

"I should never have let you go. I should ne-"

"Hey-"

I tilted my head at him as I placed a hand on his arm.

"-You still got me."

He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into his chest, kissing my forehead before resting his chin on top of my head.
I looked to the side to see Ned standing there, almost awkwardly. I held my arm out to him, gesturing him to join. Without further a do, Ned came over, wrapping his arms around the Peter and I. A sniffle could be heard as I turned my head to look at the shorter boy.

"Ned, are you crying?"

"No!"

He wiped his eyes vigorously, trying to get rid of the tears that were giving him away.

"Okay, yeah, maybe a little bit." He laughed.

I had everything I ever wanted right there. In that moment, I knew that everything was going to be okay.