Memories

18. Reality

Y/n POV:

Over the whole recovery, and between all the tests, I forgot about checking on Miles. It sounds selfish but I did, regardless he was still here and that's all I could hope for.

His parents wheeled him over, and with help, lifted him out of the wheelchair. He latched onto me in a hug.

He then stumbled back, and into the wheelchair again. Then his mother came up to me. "You must be the girl who saved my boys life. I'm Miles' mother, but you can call me Rio." She smiled at me, grasping my hand tightly.

"Mom!" Miles groaned.

"I don't doubt for a second that he would do the same." I smiled back.

Miles smiled at my comment. Our parents dissolved into conversation with each other, so we snuck off to find a quiet spot to talk.

We creeped into the kitchen, which was vacant.

"So haven't re-al-ly go-tt-en t-o ta-lk si-nc-e..." I trailed off. I saw him mindlessly inch his hand to the back of his neck. I then looked down at the disc in my wrist. It hadn't glowed red since I left. It was just its normal blue colour.

"Wh-at d-o W-e d-o, Ha-s an-yo-ne as-ke-d ye-t?" I spluttered.

"M-y da-d tr-ie-d t-o bu-t mo-m st-op-pe-d hi-m." He answered.

"Ma-yb-e w-e sh-ou-ld ha-ve th-e co-nv-er-sa-ti-on on-ce w-e re-co-ve-r pr-op-er-ly, it-'ll b-e ea-si-er t-o ta-lk th-en." The hoarseness of my voice starting to show.

"Ye-ah. I'-m ju-st gl-ad yo-ur ok-ay." He smiled, looking up at me.

The party started to wind down shortly after, everyone disappearing out of the door at different times. "Bye! I hope you get better soon!" Rio shouted as she wheeled Miles out.

Everyone had left apart from Peter. He was standing in the kitchen looking out the window. I walked up behind him to see what he was looking at. There was a twinkling at the bottom of the grass, illuminating sparkles around the garden. If you squinted, you could also see bouquets of flowers. Roses. Yellow roses. My favourite.

Was...was that my grave?

I limped closer to the window, causing Peter to jump not knowing I was there. "Oh. Hi." He said mindlessly.

"Yo-u al-ri-gh-t?" I questioned, searching his face for an answer.

He laughed dryly. "I should be asking you that question." He turned to face me at last. "How you holding up. I haven't really check up on you yet. Guess I didn't have the guts." He whispered the last part. What did he mean not having the guts?

"I-'m ju-st fi-ne." I say, trying to keep my mind focused on Peter.

"Do you want me to help you to your bedroom? You must be pretty tired after all." He gestured.

I nodded, not wanting to use my voice when not necessary.

He grabbed one of my arms gently as we approached the stairs. I hadn't tried stairs yet. I lifted my stiff leg as far as humanly possible. I kept telling myself to keep going. I tried the first few steps with confidence, but as we got higher, I made the mistake of looking down and I nearly fell. Peter ended up having to carry me the rest of the way due to my stupid legs.

We reached the door. I took a deep breath as Peter pushed it open. It was exactly as I had left it. I hobbled over to the nearest chair and slumped down panting.

Once I caught my breath back, I look up to see Peter staring at me with sad filling his face. His eyes roam down and over all the cuts and scars still imprinted on my body. Then his attention was drawn to the disc.

"What's that? On your wrist?" He questioned, bending down in front of me and holding my wrist gently in his hands.

"I-t wa-s an-ot-he-r ve-rs-io-n o-f th-e de-vi-ce da-d ma-de." I whimpered, my voice shaking from having used it so much tonight.

"I'm sorry. I'm asking too many questions while you're still in this state. I'll leave, but do text me on how you're doing." He got up and strides to the door.

As he turns his back and the darkness of the room settles in. First time since I woke up, I'm left to my own thoughts. I picture the elevator from the TVA falling full of people who can't be saved, fire everywhere. Then the white shining hospital hallways. The helplessness of lying there on the mat. Sitting alone in a dark cell with cuts being forcefully burned into my skin.

I can't. I can't be alone. I'll be back in that...that place. "Wa-it..." I croak.

He turns back on his heal. "What?"

I look at him with scared and panicked eyes. He rushes over and embraces me. "It's okay... I'm not going anywhere." He shushes.

I'm already basically in my pyjamas as it's the only clothes I can get on. He lies me in my bed and sets up on the floor. He's about to lie down when he looks at me worried. I look down at my hands to see them shaking uncontrollably. He clambers into bed and wraps me in a hug. I lean my head on his chest, breathing in and out to try calm myself down.

The last thing I see before dosing off an hour later was the soft red glow of the disc in my wrist.