Trigger warning: Alcoholism/Abuse
~
Ryan had come home drunk... Again.
It was the third time that week and the who-knows-what time since you'd moved in with him three years ago, so you'd finally had enough and decided to confront him the next morning when he would be sober.
"Ryan," you stated, getting up from your spot on the couch when you saw him trudge into the room, "We need to talk."
"This is about my drinking again, isn't it?" he groaned, "God, I was just having fun. Why can't you seem to get that?"
"I don't want to fight about this again, Ryan – I just want to talk."
"That's what you always say and then it turns into one!"
"Only because you make it that way!" you shouted, not holding back. "If you want another fight out of it, fine! I'll give you one!" you exclaimed, "Every night, you come home wasted and you know I hate it! You know I hate it, yet you make the decision to do it anyway and I just don't get it!" You paused, taking a moment to calm yourself down. "I'm done, Ryan. I'm done staying up until 5am worrying about where the hell you are, I'm done with your stupid ways of making me forgive you for it, and I am especially done with being ignored about it. I trusted you, Ryan. I trusted you enough to tell you everything about what happened and you repay me by doing exactly what I had to live with for 18 years! I can't do this – I can't do us anymore! I'm done," you repeated quietly, grabbing your bag and walking to the door.
"Where are you gonna go?" he asked, the amusement in his voice very clear. He was right and he knew it; It wasn't like you could go to your parents' or a friend's house. You moved almost an hour away from them to move in with him. You stared at the hand you had on the door knob for a few seconds.
"As far away from you as I can get," you mumbled, opening the door to leave and slamming it shut behind you.
~
Two weeks.
Two weeks had passed and Ryan hadn't made any attempt to contact you. You could contact him, of course, but why would you? You weren't in the wrong. You obviously hadn't meant for the argument to end this way, but he fucked up and he should be the one to apologize.
Jamie and Vanessa were more than happy to let you stay at their place for as long as you needed – at least until you could muster up the courage to go get your things. As much as you hated yourself for it, you still loved him. You loved him so much, it hurt knowing it was over. After three years together, it was finally over. You couldn't wrap your head around knowing that he knew about your past and still chose to brush it off like it was nothing.
~
Another week had passed and there was still no word from Ryan. Which, of course, did concern you a bit. Although you were pissed at him, you knew he never went a day without talking to his brother and it seemed like he just vanished.
You had asked Nash about him once only to find out he hadn't heard from Ryan either. You shrugged it off, assuming he was just enjoying the fact that he could now drink without having someone yell at him about it when he got home.
"I think it's time for me to go home," you told Jamie and Vanessa randomly after dinner one evening.
"Did you and Ryan finally make up?" Jamie asked.
"No," you sighed, "I meant back home to my family. I can't keep living with you guys."
"But we love having you here!" Vanessa said. You could hear the sadness in her voice.
"And I'm thankful that you both care so much about me, but it's clear to me that Ryan doesn't and I want you two to have the time alone you moved here to get in the first place. I don't want to spend the rest of my life waiting for an apology that will never come. I promise I'll call as often as I can, but I want to be independent. And I don't feel like I can do it here."
Vanessa immediately got up from her chair and rushed over to you, hugging you tightly, "I'm gonna miss you."
Jamie followed suit and pulled you into a hug once Vanessa let go, "I'll be holding you up to that calling as often as possible thing you mentioned."
You smiled, "I will call, okay? Every day if you want me to. Pinky swear." They stuck out their pinkies and you all laughed, linking them together.
"When are you leaving?" Jamie asked.
"In a couple days, I think. I still have to go get my things," you answered.
"How about I take you tomorrow?" Vanessa offered, "I'm sure you still have a lot of stuff there and you look like you want to make as few trips as you can."
"You know me so well," you sighed dramatically, causing her to playfully hit your arm.
~
The next day, you texted Ryan before you left: I'm coming by to pick up my things.
You shoved your phone into your pocket and you and Vanessa made the drive to your apartment building. You pulled into the parking lot and checked your phone for a reply from Ryan: Nothing. Shocking.
You let out a quiet sigh before getting out and getting a box from the back seat, walking up one flight of stairs to the apartment. You turned the doorknob, surprised to find it unlocked.
"Ryan?" you called out, walking inside with Vanessa not too far behind. You heard a loud thud coming from down the hall and spun to face Vanessa, "Stay here. Jamie would kill me if anything happened to you," rushing down the hallway before she had time to protest. You cautiously walked to the bedroom door and opened it slowly. "Ryan?" you whispered.
The room was dark aside from the light peeking through the curtains, but it was still enough for you to see. You looked inside, your eyes immediately locking on the man laying on the floor.
"Ryan!" you exclaimed, running over to him and dropping to your knees, "What happened?" He was breathing slowly, barely able to get his words out.
"I can't...can't...remember..." he managed to say.
"Vanessa!" you yelled toward the open door, "Call 911!" In a matter of seconds, you heard Vanessa saying your address and apartment number. "Ryan," you choked, looking back down at him, "Why?"
"I...thought...you...hated...me," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
"I do," you admitted, tearing up slightly, "But not enough to let you die." He smiled weakly, slowly closing his eyes. You went into a panic, "No, no, no! Ryan, don't you dare give up on me! Not now! Open your eyes!" When he didn't open them, you began feeling tears streaming down your face. "Ryan! Come on, wake up! You can't die, okay?! Your parents need you, Jamie and Anna need you, Nash needs you-" You choked on your breath again. "-I need you..."
But once you heard the sirens, you completely lost it.
You let out a helpless scream and ran your fingers through his hair, waiting for paramedics to arrive; That was all you could do. It wasn't like you had some kind of magical potion that would heal him so everything would be okay again and you could just forget what had happened that caused all of this in the first place; That just wasn't an option. You were beating yourself up over how maybe – just maybe – if you had stopped being so stubborn before today, this might not be happening.
Your thoughts were interrupted, however, when a paramedic rushed in, gently pulling you away from Ryan.
"How long has he been like this?" the other paramedic asked as they lifted Ryan onto a stretcher.
"I... I don't know," you answered, trying to maintain what little composure you had left, "We just got here probably five minutes ago. Is he gonna be okay?" By this time, they had already begun wheeling him out to the ambulance.
"He appears to have a severe case of alcohol poisoning. At this point, it'll be a miracle if he survives the ride to the hospital," he answered honestly.
You stopped abruptly the second the words came out of his mouth. You couldn't imagine your life without Ryan, nor did you want to.
He made you laugh when all you wanted to do was cry. He was the one that sang you to sleep every night. He made you feel like the most beautiful girl in the world and that was never something that was easy for you to say.
Vanessa, having heard everything the paramedic had told you, grabbed your hand and pulled you out to your car. She opened the passenger door and helped you inside before running around the car and getting in the driver's seat.
"Text Jamie – tell him to get Adrienne, Keith, and Nash and meet us at the hospital," she ordered, starting the car and following the ambulance. You complied, pulling your phone out of your bag and texting Jamie: Get everyone and meet us at the hospital.
Of course, he immediately replied with: Why? What happened?
You could almost see the terrified look on his face, but you didn't text back; You couldn't. You were shaking too much and you could barely see through your tears.
You finally got to the hospital, racing inside and asking the woman at the front desk where Ryan was. She smiled apologetically, telling you they were doing all they could, but that no one was allowed to see him right now.
You let out a frustrated cry and Vanessa walked you over the waiting room. She hugged you tightly as you both sat down and you cried on her shoulder, waiting for everyone else to arrive.
Not even five minutes later, the hospital doors burst open and you heard Jamie call your name.
"Jamie!" Vanessa squeaked, rushing to give him a hug.
"What happened?" Keith asked worriedly.
"One of the paramedics said he has a severe case of alcohol poisoning," you answered quietly, trying not to start crying again. You started to get up, but Adrienne quickly walked over to you.
"Honey, you need to sit down and rest," she told you, "This isn't easy for us and I can't imagine what it must be like for you."
"But this is my fault," you whispered, failing at keeping your tears in, "If I hadn't been so stupid-"
"This is not your fault," Nash said sternly, kneeling down in front of you, "I know you don't want to hear this, but you need to: Ryan was going to do this to himself whether you had gotten there five minutes earlier or five days. Would it have been to this extent? Maybe not, but that is in no way your fault, do you understand me?" You nodded and he hugged you tightly as a doctor walked into the room.
"Are you here for Ryan Follese?" Everyone nodded and he continued, "We've put him in a medically induced coma and hooked him up to a ventilator so the blood doesn't rush back to his brain too quickly."
"What happens if it does?" Adrienne asked.
"Well, that could cause a number of other problems," he explained, "Stroke and heart failure are our main concerns at this point. This is gradually going to allow blood flow to become normal again so he doesn't suffer any more trauma than he already has."
"When will he wake up?" Keith questioned.
"It's hard to say. Some patients are able to breathe on their own the next day, some can take weeks. We'll be monitoring him closely to ensure nothing goes wrong and I promise, we're doing everything we can."
"Can we... Can we see him?" you asked, standing up. The doctor nodded, leading you all to one of the rooms.
When you walked in, you were startled by how many things Ryan was actually hooked up to.
"Um, I'll be right back, I just... I just need some air," you said, quickly excusing yourself from the room and sprinting outside.
As soon as you walked out of the hospital, you sat down on the ground next to the doors with your head in your hands, hearing the doors open just a couple minutes later.
"I meant what I said," you heard Nash say, "This isn't your fault."
You looked up at him and shook your head, "Then why does it feel like it is?"
He sat down in front of you, taking a moment to find the right words before speaking, "Because you feel like there was something you could have done to stop him." You stared at him as he went on, "Deep down, I know you know you couldn't have; None of us could. Yeah, we were all worried about him when he didn't answer our calls or texts or knocks on the door, but we never could have guessed he was doing this to himself and neither could you. I think, in a way, we all sort of blame ourselves for not trying a little harder."
"But you guys didn't do anything."
"And neither did you. We're not psychics, okay? We couldn't have known this what where he'd end up or been able to prevent it from happening. Right now, the best thing we can do for Ryan is stay positive no matter how hard it is." He stood up and reached down to you. You sighed, taking his hand and he pulled you up, walking you back to Ryan's room.
You knew he was right; Nash was always right when he went all motivational speaker on you, but maybe that's what kept you going.
~
Even after nearly five days of staying right by Ryan's side, you were finally able to make your way over to the chair in the corner of the room and sit down, allowing yourself to sleep.
When you woke up around two hours later, you heard Jamie say, "She blames herself, you know."
"She didn't do this to me," Ryan stated, his voice hoarse.
Ryan? Ryan was awake?
"Good luck convincing her of that," Vanessa said, shaking her head, "She was worried sick about you, Ryan. She hasn't eaten in four days, for Christ's sake!"
"I don't know what happened between you two, but you better fix it," Jamie stated, "Because this isn't healthy for either of you."
"Ryan?" you mumbled, slowly opening your eyes and sitting up.
Jamie and Vanessa decided to leave the room to give you two time to talk. You rubbed your eyes and looked at Ryan, who was now sitting up in his hospital bed. He was awake, talking, and most importantly: Alive.
Your eyes widened and you cried, "Ryan!" jumping up and running the short distance to his bed, kissing him as passionately as you ever had before.
"I love you," he told you as soon as you pulled away, "And I'm sorry."
"I know. I love you too," you gave him a half smile.
He moved over slightly, patting the spot beside him. You climbed into the bed with him, getting as comfortable as you could. He wrapped his arms around you and kissed your forehead.
"I mean it, okay?" he murmured into your hair, "I really am sorry."
"I know," you repeated, not really sure what else to say.
"No, you don't," he sighed, shaking his head, "I don't know why I kept going out and getting drunk every night and I understand 100% why you left. It was such an asshole move of me to blatantly ignore you the way I did. I... I never wanted you to go through what you did growing up with your dad and I will spend every second from this point on proving that to you if that's what it takes for you to trust me again."
You smiled up at him, kissing him again, "I love you, Ryan. Nothing is ever going to make me feel differently."
And for the first time in almost two months, you felt whole again.