A Series Of Letters {Adopted by Palaye Royale}

Chapter Ten

***trigger warning***

"Inside," I cry onto Remington's chest. "I wanna go see him."

"The doctors are still working on him, honey. Just a little bit longer, then you can see him." He holds me close.

"What are they doing to him?"

"They're making him all better," I bury my head into his neck and continue to cry. It's been about five hours, and I still can't see Emerson. Sebastian's in there with him now, and Remington was in the very beginning, but I can't get in until he's all fixed. It makes me worry. How bad is it that the boys and Stephanie don't want me in there? I don't even know exactly what he did, they won't tell me. Earlier, Sebastian bought me a donut, and it's still sitting next to us because I won't eat it. I feel too sick. 

Stephanie comes out of the elevator, and Remington grabs my hips to help me off of him. I run to her, and hug her tightly. "Is he okay?" I ask, sniffling on her chest. 

"He asked me to come get you two. C'mon, let's go," I practically run for the elevator, and while waiting for it Remington comes up behind me and hugs me. 

"Just remember to breathe," He whispers, kissing the back of my neck. "Just breathe," I nod, turning in his arms and reaching up. Remington lifts me up, and we enter the elevator. He holds me close. I hate elevators. 

Remington moves from side to side until the elevator ends on Floor 10. He walks out the elevator, sets me on my feet, and follows Stephanie. My fingers reach out to touch the plaque on the wall next to the door as we halt. 304. I nod at Remington, and he reaches out and opens the door. 

Emerson's eyes flicker up to us immediately. Something twinges in them when they land on me, but I can't place what it is. He has a nasal cannula supplying oxygen, his hair is a wreck, and he's in a hospital gown. In his right hand is an IV wrapped in layers of gauze (they did this to me in the hospital so I wouldn't pull mine out), and his left arm is wrapped in mesh bandages. His neck has a bruise the entire way across it. There's a plethora of medical equipment attached to and coming from his chest. An EKG records his heart rate and breathing levels. His finger on his right hand glows from the pulseometer. I recognize the names one of the many, many bags hanging off his IV pole. It's a prescription-drug overdose reverse medication. There's a machine under the bed, not currently attached to him, used to regulate heartbeat.

All is quiet. The only noise is my Converse hitting the floor as I walk over to him. He's laying down, but as soon as I'm at the edge of the bed his right hand jumps up to cup my cheek. I fight the urge to flinch, and seem to suppress it pretty well as Emerson doesn't react. Sebastian moves his IV contents closer to the bed so they don't pull as much. My eyes lock with his. 

"Remington?" I call out quietly.

"Yeah?" He replies, standing up out of the chair. 

"Can I be alone with him for a second?"

"Yeah, we'll be right outside the door." He comes over and kisses my cheek before heading to the door. "Call if you need us," I nod, and then it's just the two of us. His hand drops from my cheek and I take it into my own. They're cold. They've lost their warm familiarity. His soft hands are wrapped in even softer gauze. But...they're cold. His usually warm, loving hands are ice cold. That's the scary part. More than any of the equipment attached to him, or the amount of drugs...the scariest part is how cold his hands are. The ones that used to always comfort me with their warmth and soft touch, are now cold, and weak. It's like he's dead. I shake that thought away. No, he's right here in front of me; living, breathing. He's okay.

My knees cave, and I hit the ground. Emerson chokes in surprise, but quickly recovers. He brings his right hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose, and starts choking out sobs. "I'm sorry," He cries. "I'm so, so fucking sorry."

"Why?" I sob, a tremor overtaking me. "Why?" I start screaming. I hate this so much. Why? 

"There's alot of adult things going on right now, Princess." He sighs, squeezing my hand and then flinching. "I'm sorry. You...I didn't wanna leave you,"

"Then why'd you try?" I snap, shakily getting to my feet, knees wobbling. "Why? I need you...."

"It'd be easier without me here," 

"No...don't say that. It would not be easier without you here. I rely on you so much. I need you here. I love you so much, Emerson. P-P-Please, please don't leave me. Please," I start to unravel, tears falling freely from my eyes as my fingers trace his bandages. 

"This world is a horrible place," Emerson tries to explain.

"I know...." I sigh, lifting my head to make eye contact with him. "That's why I need you. You are the only reason my world is moving right now. You kept me strong through all those fucking years of absolute hell. That was all you. And now, I need to do the same for you. Please, what can I do?"

"Forgive me?" I sigh. His eyes fill with tears. "Please? I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking. Oh my God," He breaks down completely now, bringing his right hand up to his face and sobbing into it. I quickly move, adjusting the kinked IV flow and grabbing him a handful of tissues. I quickly take his hand again and give him the tissues. "What－What would you d-do? What would t-this do to you? Oh my God," He covers his head with his hand. "I wasn't thinking! I'm an idiot!"

"You're not an idiot, Emerson." 

"I am. What would have happened had I been successful? They would have taken you away. God knows what would have happened to you," His eyes flicker down to my scarred wrists. "I wasn't thinking. I could have come and talked to you o-or done a-anything. Fuck, I'm stupid,"

"Stop," I whisper, shuffling closer to him. His heart rate rises. I can tell he wants to hug me, his hands flinch upward, but then he realizes he can't. "You're not stupid. Cause you're here...and one day I'll hold your guys' last name, won't I?"

"Fuck yes you will," He smiles. I do it back and squeeze his hand. 

"We've got a long fight ahead of us," I say, my eyes flickering from the bed-bound boy to the landscape outside and back again. "This is just a bump in the road. Stuff happens. Just don't let this happen again," Emerson shakes his head violently, and I jump out to replace the nasal cannula tube over his ear when he knocks it off.

"I won't do this again. I'm thinking now. I don't wanna leave you,"

"I don't want you to leave me,"