Her Game, His Rules. | .21

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Vic stood impatiently outside of Rowan's hospital room, refusing to join his band mates where they sat in the waiting area. He just couldn't reason sitting still while his, for lack of a better word, niece was unconscious on the other side of the door. He knew, he really did, that she wouldn't die. But that didn't settle his stomach which was churning like the stormiest sea. Like a boat capsizing, his logic had sunk beneath the surface and all he could see was a deluge of what ifs that threatened to drown him. This was all his fault. How could he possibly apologize to Kellin for putting his daughter in a hospital?

Vic paced back and forth, waiting as behind the door they stripped Rowan of her suffocating layers in place of a thin hospital gown and sponged her with ice water. Finally the door opened and he was allowed inside. He was told Rowan had been placed on IV fluids as her minuscule size meant she had absolutely no water weight, she was too thin to get this dehydrated. Vic nodded, passing the nurse on his way into the room. There, laying on a hospital bed with no blanket to shield her, lay Rowan. Vic sucked in a breath, having to clamp his teeth to his bottom lip to keep from gasping audibly, as he saw her skin for the first time. He knew now why she'd refused to remove the layers, even stacks of brackets couldn't hide this. He made sure she was totally unconscious before coming inside, knowing she'd want Kellin there when she woke. He took a seat on the couch, far enough back that he wasn't crowding her but close enough that she wouldn't think she was alone if she did awake before Kellin arrived.

Try as he might, Vic couldn't keep his eyes off of her. He felt awful saying it but he was glad she was unconscious, just so that she couldn't see his reaction. He didn't want to but Vic couldn't help but tear up, his hand to his mouth and his elbows on his knees as he leaned forward in his seat on the couch. Her skin was mutilated, but somehow still intoxicatingly beautiful. She looked like a damaged porcelain doll, her skin was covered in hills and valleys between the thickest scars. Being that he'd harmed himself, Vic could plainly pick out which ones were self inflicted, the others weren't her own doing. Kellin had warned Vic but for the sake of his daughter he'd kept a blanket on her the last time Vic'd sat in a hospital room with her, so this was something torturous to watch.

There was a tap on the door and before Vic had a chance to answer, Mike was peering in. "Hey," he murmured, coming fully into the room, "we couldn't stand to wait any longer, we had to see that she's okay."

As the rest of his band piled in, Vic tried to find something to say but words evaded him. It was for the best because no words could explain as one by one the guys saw Rowan, witnessing her scars for the first time as well.

Jaime flinched, having to tear his eyes away and stare fixedly at his shoes. Tony looked pale, his mouth open as if in a silent scream. Mike was the worst, his eyes glazed over with unshed tears and his hand reached out like he wanted to hold her hand.

The door banged open before any of them could muster up any sort of response to this image, and a flustered Kellin appeared. He didn't seem to notice the guys, he dove straight for Rowan but held himself back at the last second, not daring to hug her or move her for fear he'd pull at her IV or something of the sort.

It was a long, silent minute of Kellin holding Rowan's unaffected hand before he turned to the guys, all of which we still frozen awkwardly as they tried to look like they hadn't just been staring at Rowan. "Hey, guys."

There were mumbled greeting but each of the other four were afraid Kellin would be mad, guilt settling like a bolder in their stomachs. Vic swallowed a lump in his throat and began, "Kellin–"

"Is the parent of Rowan Bostwick here yet?" asked a female voice, the nurse popping up from behind the door a moment later. Kellin raised his hand a few inches and the nurse signaled him to follow her out.

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