You took my heart, could I please have it back?

[53] You took my heart, could I please have it back?

{Liz POV}

My music flow hadn't stopped since my dad got put in hospital. For some reason, all this worry that was eating at me was feeding me constant inspiration. I was actually managing to compose a few of my own guitar and piano pieces, which I shyly showed to my band mates for advice. Their general praise made me a little happier, but the dead weight in my heart never left.

Dad was no longer in critical condition...but it had been ten days and he still wasn't awake. A lot of the time I found myself panicking, wondering what would happen if he died. Would I be sent away? Away from Alex, Lily, everyone who kept me sane?

The thought wrenched at my heart almost constantly. I didn't want to be alone again. I had no doubt they'd visit me, and vice versa, but would it be enough? Would I make friends? And how could I cope losing both my parents?

Alex, bless him, was almost constantly at my side, trying to make me smile and feel better. It did work most of the time because he usually knew what to say, and if he didn't, Landon would, because he had a knack of cheering people up. He was the funny one.

Still, though. As I sat in my attic, now that the forensics team had finally finished searching the house for clues about who might have attacked him, I couldn't bring myself to pick up my guitar. I was curled up on the sofa, staring at the faded rug, tears swimming in my eyes.

Why would someone do this? Who could have done it? I was pretty sure no one hated my dad. After all, no one had really known him. A tear fell down my cheek. Who would try and take his life away? More tears fell. Despite everything, I loved my dad. I know he only did it because he loved my mum so much, which in a way made it easier.

I sat sobbing in the attic for a while, just thinking of life without him. I had grown accustomed to having him around, being a good, loving father. What would I do without him? Images, memories flashed before my eyes; the pool of blood around my father as he lay on the floor...

Letting out a desperate sob, I curled up tighter on the sofa, just wishing he would wake up. I missed him, badly. Just seeing him every day, lying on his hospital bed, pale, thin, gaunt...it scared me. It scared me to know he was so weak, so vulnerable, so susceptible to death.

And I don't think I could have gone through the pain of losing another parent.

Slowly, I uncurled myself, still crying as I went down the ladder. Alex had pleaded with me to only stay for at most two hours, because he was desperately worried that the guy would come back. He would have come with me but I wanted to go alone to be with my music.

I slipped into the kitchen, another cry escaping my lips as I carefully avoided the patch where I had found him. I didn't even know why, it was like it was taboo standing there, almost like standing on a grave. But he isn't dead, I reassured myself stubbornly as I went to get myself a drink.

There was a knock on the door and I sighed, wondering who it could be. I had only been an hour and a bit, surely Alex knew me well enough not to check up on me. And if it was him, he would have just entered after knocking, but he didn't.

I went to open the door, and was a little surprised to see James standing on my doorstep, looking very slightly awkward. I gave him a half smile, obviously faked as he could see I had been crying. I opened the door to let him in and he gave me a hug, pulling me close to his warm body.

Yeah, I loved his hugs.

"He'll be okay, Liz," he whispered softly in my ear. "He'll be okay."

After a minute of standing next to my front door buried in his arms, I finally pulled away and asked him if he wanted a drink. He smiled and nodded and I led him into the kitchen, once again skirting round when I had found my dad.