Secrets Leave Scars [EDITING]

37 - Patience

6 weeks later

"We're not giving up on him," I spit in disgust. "How could you even suggest that?" My breathing gets heavy as I process the doctor's words carefully. Kol reaches for my arm, attempting to calm me down. I brush him off angrily, "No just get the h*ll out of my face."

"Isobel come on you need to rest," Kol urges me for the fifth time that day.

"I can't Kol!" I snap. "You know.. I can't."

It's been six weeks since the explosion at the 'safe' house. It was so 'safe' in fact, that it took the ambulance 20 minutes to arrive on the scene. 20 minutes, where Marcus wasn't breathing. 20 minutes where he just lied there, cold and blue. Dead. He's been in a coma ever since.

The doctor's say we were lucky. Lucky that we all survived. After his first surgery, they said he would wake back up. Now they're saying we need to let him go. They're all full of sh*t. Playing some sick guessing game and screwing with my emotions. Everyone's emotions.

I had a few crushed ribs and an intense head laceration, but I made it out in one piece. Kol made it out with a few second and third degree burns, and some stitches. Ivy only had a concussion and stitches, Trinity broke her collar bone, and Axel broke his arm in not one, but three different places. He's been doing well with physical therapy, and should be out of his cast this week. He's lucky you don't need both arms to play with pocketknives.

Marcus left Dimitri in charge during our trip to Virginia, which was obviously extended. We stayed at the hospital there for a few days, before transferring him to one near headquarters. Once he heard news of the accident, Dimitri pulled some strings to get him back to Florida quietly. Surprisingly, he hasn't left his side since he's been home.

"Alright come on, I'm taking you home," Kol mumbles, gripping my arm tightly.

"No you're not," I grunt, trying to break free. "Stop it Kol I mean it." My muscles are weak and tired and I continue struggling to fight back. "KOL HE IS MY HOME!"

The room goes silent as he backs away. He stares into my eyes with an understanding. Tears rush down my cheeks as I stare into those awful, well-meaning eyes. He wraps his arms around me, pulling me into a comforting hug.

Every emotion I've been holding in for the past six weeks, finally runs wild as I sob into his arms. Just 10 seconds before the bomb went off, I agreed to run away with him. 40 seconds before that, he had asked me to run away with him. We were going to be happy. We were going to be free.

I would be free from my past, free from the FBI, and free from the trauma. He would be free from his past, free from his father, and free from the legacy placed on him. We were going to be free. Instead, everything completely fell apart... Leaving me sobbing at his hospital bed, completely hopeless.

*Flashback (Week 1)*

I hold his cold hand in mine, praying for some kind of miracle. It could be any minute now. Any minute now, he would wake up and be okay. Any minute now, we could run away together.

Who am I kidding? Of course we can't. This is his life. Mortal enemies bombing your house as yet another attempt to get you killed. That's a weekly occurrence for Marcus Steele. His enemies would follow him, and so would his father.