Don't - Mark Tuan Fanfic (Third Book for 'Can't')

33 - Reason To Live

"They're gonna be fine." 

I think I'm dreaming cause I can hear my mom's voice from nearby. 

"Did you get her? Did you get the heartless girl who did this?" 

"We got her. Don't worry. Rob and your husband are already making sure she'd be in isolation as we speak."

Yeah. This must be a dream. How can my mom and Mark's, and uncle Ed be in London? Unless ....

I open my eyes, fluttering my lids up weakly. The bright wall reflecting the sun from the other direction is what hits my eyes first. 

The sound of sobs become stronger, and the voices, too. "What are we going to do with these kids? How can they be involved in such unfavorable incidences?"

"They're gonna be alright from now on. Won't they, Ed?" My mom's voice is both reassuring and doubtful. 

"Mom?" 

"Honey!" My mom is instantly beside me. She takes my hand and sits at the small space on the bed just beside my leg. I can see her face now and her cheeks are wet with tears. I notice the bruises that were there months ago, the last time I visited her in the hospital before I went to Malibu, are already gone. But there are still small marks on her shoulder. I guess it takes longer for those to completely heal. Just like the big scar on my chest I got last year when Sean shot me. "I'm here, honey. Do you need anything? Are you thirsty? Hungry? You want something?"

"Mom!" I sob. And she leans closer so she can rest her head on mine. And, even if it physically hurts, I move my arms and wrap them around her neck. 

"My baby." She plants a kiss on my forehead, letting her lips touch my burning skin a while longer. 

"How are you feeling, kiddo?" Uncle Ed is now standing at the side of the bed, smiling weakly down at me. "You're one tough chick, aren't you?" He chuckles and I reach one hand for his, squeezing it as strong as my strength could let me. 

"How are you, Cristina?" Mark's mom, her cheeks as wet as mine, is at the foot of the bed. 

Mark!

I turn to my mom. "Mark. Mom. Where's Mark? Is he ok?"

My mom sits up straight and she turns her head to the side. I follow her gaze and all the aching all over my body and my worries just disappear momentarily as I see the boy lying on the bed at the other side of the wide hospital room. 

Mark's eyes are still closed. He has more tubes up his arms and his nose. There's another machine beside him, just like the one beside me. And it's showing his heart rate and his pulse, beeping steadily. 

"Is he gonna be alright?" I ask anyone, more tears streaming down my puffy eyes. 

"He is!" My mom says, stroking my hair. "He's strong. Both of you are. We'd get through this baby. "We've been through worse, haven't we?" She holds back her sobs and smiles down at me. "Everything's gonna be alright."

I think I've heard that many times before. But, even so, it still makes me feel a bit better. 

_______

"Mom?" I call out softly as I don't hear any voice inside the room when I open my eyes again. I can hear something from outside the door though, I think I hear my dad, too. "Dad?"

I try to get up and manage to sit at the edge of the bed. My eyes get teary again when I see Mark still lying motionless on the other bed. I inch closer to the edge of the bed until I feel my feet touching the cold tiles of the floor. I try to stand up, using the iron pole beside the bed where two bags of fluids dripping through my IVs are hanging.