Imagination || L.H.

Chapter 39

As the sun sinks behind the horizon, we make begin to make ourselves comfortable. We aren't leaving Luke unless someone drags us out of here. Ashton and Michael situate themselves on the two chairs so that their heads rest against each other as they pass out cold. Calum is seated on the floor in front of them, leaning back against their legs as he starts to nod off as well. I sit on the floor next to the bed, holding Luke's hand, resting my head on the edge of the cot. It's peaceful, the constant beeping of the machines informing us that he's just fine, that everything will be fine as long as they continue that consistent beeping. All he has to do is make it through the next few hours.

His skin is still tinted blue and he shivers in his sleep, but it's less frequently with all the blankets the nurses laid over him. This isn't how I pictured spending my day; in the ER with my boyfriend who overdosed on alcohol partly because of me.

Guilt churns my stomach. If he never wakes up, I can't tell him how sorry I am, that I love him, that I wasn't going to leave him the way he was so worried about everyone doing. If I never saw those blue eyes again... I bite down sharply on my lip to keep from bursting into tears, the metallic tang of blood filling my mouth. I can't lose him too.

I don't know what time it is when I blink the sleep out of my eyes, awoken by someone's loud cry of pain. Cutting a quick glance at Luke, I breathe a sigh of relief when I see that he's still sleeping peacefully. Nothing bad has happened. He's alive.

I look up just in time to see Liz Hemmings striding toward our section of the ER, her husband following closely behind her. Real, genuine tears stream down her face as she comes around to the opposite side of Luke, gazing down at her unconscious son. She cuts a look at me and I duck my head, hoping she won't attack me, tightening my grip on Luke's hand. Calum leans forward, shifting onto his feet in case he should need to jump into action. His dark eyes are trained on Liz as she swallows hard and drags up a chair to the bedside.

"Say it," Calum hisses at Liz, his upper lip curling back in a slight snarl.

She scowls, taking a deep breath as she says sharply, "How could you let this happen? You're supposed to be his best friends. You're supposed to take care of him."

This time, it's not Calum who snaps. I drop Luke's hand, getting to my feet. "And you're his mother. Or, at least, you're supposed to be. This is as your fault as much as ours. I didn't see you out looking for him today. Where were you? Watching TV? Napping?" Jabbing my index finger in her direction, I let the pent-up emotions come out through the blazing anger I feel towards his mother. "Don't lecture us on what it's like to care about someone."

Anger sparks in her eyes and she stands as well, seeming to tower over me even though we're roughly the same height. "Out," she says in a firm, deadly tone.

"What?" I say, blinking.

"You heard me. Get out. I don't want you here anymore."

Panic courses through me. "I can't leave him."

She smiles tightly at me, all the bitterness and hatred she feels toward herself spilling over into her eyes. "You left him last night, didn't you? How different is this?"

"Extremely different," I say, raising my voice. "He could die, Liz. What the hell is your problem?"

Calum sets his hands on my shoulders and starts to steer me towards the door that leads back to the waiting room. "C'mon, just leave," he says. I struggle against his touch, but he simply picks me up and carries me out the door, kicking and screaming. Lowering his voice, he murmurs in my ear, "You have to. Things could get ugly and that's the last thing Luke needs. Please, do this for him, Kat."

"Cal-" I start, my voice breaking.

"Do it, Katherine. Look, I'll sit out here with you. Mikey and Ash will stay with Luke and make sure he's okay."

I feel numb and empty as he sits me down on one of the couches in the waiting area. What if something happens between now and daybreak? What if he dies and I wasn't with him those last few hours, if I abandoned him the way he was always afraid I would? Curling into myself in the corner of the sofa, I allow a few silent tears to streak down my cheeks. What if there was something else I could have done that would have saved him?

Dreading an answer to any of those questions, I close my eyes and sink into a dreamless sleep, plagued by too many worries to get comfortable.