Sleep (APH Nordic Fanfic)

Chapter 32

Chapter Status: Not Edited

London's POV

Flashback to that morning:

I gently knocked on Oslo's door, early morning grogginess slowly fading. I heard faint sounds of her rolling out of bed, padding over to the door, and struggling to twist the knob. I rubbed my eyes and yawned.

"Good morning," Oslo grumbled in her cute morning voice.

"Good morning, sweetheart," I began, "I'm going to get ready to leave now, to help set up the party. Just thought I'd let you know."

"Mmkay, love you," her voice broke slightly.

"Love you to," I wrapped my arms around her in an embrace.

She did the same, and I disappeared to get ready.

Little did I know, that might be the last time I see her.

Present:

I pace the hospital waiting room, staring intently at the ground in front of me. Combinations of stress, fear and shame whirl around inside of me, as I think of only the worst: Oslo not making it.

Iceland and his friend both sit in chairs, a worried expression on Iceland's face, none on his friends.

I finally notice tears rolling down my cheeks, like raindrops down a slope. Natural, I guess. My daughter was just shot.

"I WANT TO FUCKING PUNCH A WALL!" Well, I'm glad we're the only ones here. "I want to go outside, and find the asshole that did this!"

At this point, I find myself sitting on the ground and sobbing. I imagine that I'm Alice, crying herself an ocean of tears, where she will try to find shore, but only find that madness that becomes her reality.

Someone lightly taps on my shoulder, as if I'm a beast, and if startled will attack.

"Are you London?" A nurse asks me.

"Uh- yeah," I manage through a round of hiccups.

Just now I realize how utterly humiliating my behavior just now was. I physically shudder, reflecting on my unacceptable-ness.

"Come right this way." She takes my hand and helps me up. Upon standing, I mop the tears from my face and take a deep breath.

"Thank you."

She leads me down a long narrow hallway with doors on either side. The fluorescent lights nearly blind me, as my eyes were acclimated to the soft glow in the waiting room. She opens a door and leads me inside.

Inside the room, Oslo lies on the bed, her eyes hollow. The only thing to let me know she's alive is the beeping of the machines she is hooked up to, and the ragged rise and fall of her chest.

I run to her side and take her hand. I stare intensely into her dull blue eyes. This is when I realize that her eyes have always appeared dead and hopeless. I was just to bad of a parent to notice this before.

Parenting level London.

Her breaths are inconsistent and ragged, leaving without warning every so often. She struggles to keep her eyelids open.

"Why did this happen to us?" I whisper.

Tears roll down Oslo's cheeks as she struggles to inhale.

Someone knocks on the door.

"Come in."

"Uh- is it ok if... Um," Iceland stammers.

"Yes, you may come in," I almost chuckle.

Again, bad parenting at its finest.

He assumes the same position as me on the opposite side of Oslo's bed. He rubs his thumb in circles on her hand, his eyes puffy as though he's trying to hold back tears.

Realizing how I don't want my daughter to feel awkward as she's dying, I make an excuse to give them privacy.

"I urgently have to speak with a doctor." I get up and leave her, possibly for the very last time.

Iceland's POV

It finally brings me to tears, seeing her mother leave the room. They roll down my cheeks, and I momentarily look down from Oslo's eyes. I try to wipe them with my sleeve, but am unsuccessful.

She's dying, inside and out. She has been dying on the inside for a while now.

"I-it breaks my heart, knowing just how... How long you've been dying inside. I just- I really wish I could've made things better for you."

I finally bring myself to meet her clouded eyes. The rivers leave puffy marks on her face.

"Remember when we first met?" I begin. I want to tell her a story she would laugh at, even though I won't be able to hear her innocent laugh again. "I was playing my guitar at two in the morning, so you paraded into my apartment and told me to shut up. I thought it was adorable how absolutely bold you were. Then people heard us talking, and I was to embarrassed to leave my room after that."

She grins as best as she can through ragged breaths.

"Oslo, I-I just want you to know that I- erm," I feel my cheeks and ears heat up, and Oslo lets out a gurgling noise which I assume is a laugh. "I love you."

Tears continue to fall down her face, like skiers on a slope, but she wears a genuine looking smile despite the situation.

She suddenly begins coughing up blood causing her head to thrash around. After her coughing fit finishes, she sits back, trembling violently. Oslo relaxes in the cot, and shuts her eyes. And finally, the machines go silent.

I kissed the scars on her skin

I still think you're beautiful

And I don't ever wanna lose my best friend.

I screamed out, "God, you vulture,

Bring her back or take me with her."

-•-

End

-•-

(A/N) if you're wondering, the lyric is from A Match Into Water by Pierce the Veil.

I'm going to write an epilogue shortly, so if you want to know about their lives, *cough* HongIce *cough* then just read that when it goes up.

I'm going to start editing this as well.

Also, if you're interested and like what I write, please please PLEASE read my aph America fanfic, "Have A Not So Merry Christmas." I'll think of a better title when I have time.

Okay so, going along with the theme of the story, I have three points to discuss.

1 • If people are treating you badly, please please PLEASE don't resort to what Oslo did, I seriously love you all, and would hate for anything to happen to you! Also, you do not live for other people, you live for you. You don't need to change for other people to find you aesthetically pleasing. If you did, you would be different every single day. That wouldn't be fun, would it?

2 • Don't be ashamed of your scars. You don't have to be. If someone you love doesn't accept you because of them, they can kindly fuck off. Upon counting, I have about 35 scars. All I had to do was share with people I love, and it was as if I locked up a demon. It's so much better to be proud of the fact that even though you have suffered, you're still here, and you're still capable of living how you want to.

3 • Finally, depression is just the worst feeling, because it's as if you're falling into a never ending pit of self hate, loneliness, anger and hatred. All of which lead to the overwhelming depression that sometimes brings people to their graves. As you're falling into this pit, you just scream. You scream and scream, and feel like nobody can hear you. All you want is for someone to reach out and take your hand, and ask if you're fucking okay, even if they know you aren't. Them asking gives you the security you crave. This is the cold truth.