Poison And Wine (BeChloe)

Chapter 12: Dead Hearts

A group of nurses wheel the newly-arrived, still unconscious and covered with blood patient, Stan Mitchell, down into the emergency room with me trailing by his side. Phil immediately meets me up.

"What happened? Are you okay?" he demands an answer, but I can only stare at him and cry. He shakes me up trying to bring me back from my disoriented thoughts. "Beca!"

"I'm sorry," I whisper to him. "This is all my fault. Save him. Please!"

He gives me a nod and sends me out. I try to protest because I want to stay by my brother's side. I need to know that he's okay, that he's going to make it.

"I won't let anything bad happen to Stan, Beca," Phil promises to me and that little assurance calms me down a bit.

I stand there for a little while just to make sure one last time but then I slowly start to make my way to the waiting area, and let the medical authorities do their job. But as I do so, I hear one of them shout 'clear' and I just know that it's bad. It's really bad.

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Now I don't know how long it's been, but all I can make out is that I have my back leaned on the wall and my body sunk down on the floor as I wait for a doctor or a nurse to come out of the emergency room and tell me what the hell is happening to my brother. I look up to the ceiling hoping that the tears would freaking stop from falling, but it proves to be worthless so I went back to staring down the floor.

What the hell, Stan!

It was a pretty stupid idea of him to think that killing himself off would solve this bizarre love triangle that we are all in. But if you think about it, it's actually my fault. Chloe's right. She and Stan were having this perfect fairytale

relationship. All of a sudden, I came into their lives and basically ruined everything for them. It's definitely my fault. I should have stayed in the car. I should have known that something worse was coming, pushed him out of the car, and waited for the stupid delivery truck to hit my face. I should be the one lying unconsciously on that hospital bed and suffering in the emergency room. I should be the one who must die tonight.

Suddenly, I see a pair of feet standing in front of me. No, it's not a doctor or a nurse. The knees bent down until Chloe is on my eye level.

"He's still in there," I mumble.

She wipes my tears and the beads of sweat with her hands, "You can go take a quick look if you want."

I'm glad that she doesn't panic. I know she's worried too but won't let it show because frankly, it's going to freak me out. She's going to be one of those doctors someday, it's good to practice acting so calm around a worried sibling now.

"No," I shake my head. "I'm scared."

"Are you okay?" she holds my hand.

I shake my head once again. No, I'm not okay. My brother is in the freaking emergency room, they were using a defibrillator on him, and I have no idea if he's going to make it.

"He's going to be okay," she tells me and I have to believe her. We both have to believe that.

I take a peek into her eyes, "It's my fault."

"That's not true, Beca," I feel her hands on my face one more time. "You have done nothing wrong. You just fell in love, that's it."

I swallow hard and breathe out, "I should have never let you in."

I see her face fell. I can't blame her, but she can't blame me either for speaking out those words.

"You shouldn't have," she finally agrees, as she sits next to me with her back leaned on the wall as well. "We're doomed from the start anyway."