🔎SkepHalo Oneshots🔍

The Hospital

art by: @akeiise on twitter

Part Two Ehh
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"Darryl! Shit, dude move!" Zak cried as a car horn blared loudly.

The words echoed in Darryl's mind as he spun around to face Zak just as the younger boy launched himself at Darryl, causing him to fly to the other side of the street, colliding hard into the ground. He heard screeching, and a loud, violent crash.

The world spun around him fast. He couldn't see straight. Frantically he got up, gravel and glass from the road jabbed into his hands from the fall.

He looked over at the car, seeing it had ended its journey by crashing into a neighborhood trashcan. The woman inside got out, clutching her hands over her mouth. Besides the shock, she seemed to be okay.

Tears streamed down her face as she looked to Darryl, and then to a figure on the ground in the road.

"No." Darryl's eyes widened as his head cleared up, and he was able to put two and two together.

Zak had pushed him out of the way.

Darryl stood, shocked. His vision became blurry and he realized he was probably crying. "Is this real?" He begged his mind to be playing tricks on him as he approached Zak, kneeling down next to him. He looked at the woman.

"Please, call an ambulance." He asked, quietly. Hot tears rolled across his cheeks. The woman had already been frantically dialing her phone, but nodded at Darryl anyway.

He didn't understand what was happening. He sat on the road, dragging the upper half of Zak's body towards him and letting the wounded boys head rest on his lap. He took Zak's limp hand gently.

"I'm so sorry..." he cried, breaking down. His entire body shook violently.

All he could do was sob and cry, clutching his unconscious friend's hand.

Darryl's mind was clouded with a screaming white noise, the sound of sobbing, and distant sirens in the background.

"It should have been me." He thought shamefully. He couldn't bring himself to think that a stupid argument had caused this.

"Please be okay. Please." Darryl thought, shutting his eyes harshly and willing the image of his wounded friend to pass. He begged that when he opened his eyes, Zak would be there. Zak would be fine.

Zak would be happy.

However, when he peeked his teary eyes open again, Zak was still the same. The dark haired boy was bruised and cut. His clothes were torn. Darryls eyes trailed over his face. There was a cut across his cheek, along with stains from crying earlier.

Darryl held his friend tightly, and closed his eyes again. He was too scared to try and check if Zak was even breathing still.

When the sirens got loud enough to hurt his ears, he opened his eyes again and watched the ambulance pull up urgently.

He decided then that this was the worst day of his life.

—-

The hospital visit was dreadful. Darryl sat in a waiting room, hair a mess. He had dirt across his face and in his hair that he hadn't bothered to brush off. On top of that, his hands still were still cut up, tiny pieces of gravel shoved into them. He couldn't feel any pain, though. All he could think about was Zak.

"I wish we had never met!" The dreadful line played in his head over and over. Regret flooded his brain, and Darryl was sure as hell drowning.