See You Around~ Grester (completed)

Chapter Thirty-Five

Chester's POV

The door was cold as I pressed my hand to it, walking into an empty room. In the centre of the room stood a lone bed; surrounded with tubes and pumps. She looked so small, her frame so fragile and vulnerable. I felt tears prick at my eyes, it was all too much.

I wanted to pick her up, watch her fall into my arms, feel her touch. I wanted to whisk her away to a place I knew she would be safe, where she felt safe. I wouldn't have to talk to her through these hospital walls, we could sit side by side and I could make her better. But I could never do that because she is so ill, it would be so dangerous.

I couldn't walk up to her straight away, I was scared that my touch might break her. My breathing was becoming rapid, my palms clammy as I took baby steps to her. I reached her bed, staring at her for a moment. The worse thing was that she looked exactly the same. Amongst the tubes and wires she was still beautiful. I placed a gentle kiss to the top of her head, took her limp hand in mine. I intertwined my fingers with hers, a small circle of butterflies appearing within.

I looked down at her fingers and noticed how her engagement ring wasn't there. I looked around for it, finding it by her water on a bedside table. She would want it on her now, she said it was a little piece of me. If we couldn't be together all the time then she could always find me in that. I slid it onto her finger; it looked so big on her small fragile fingers but I felt more secure knowing she had it with her.

The doctors told me she had relapsed, that her body rejected the medicine. I didn't really understand- it was meant to help her? They said that sometimes the body doesn't like new things in the system, that foreign cells cause the existing ones to fight it off. And this caused her to lay in a hospital bed, weak and lifeless.

Millions of questions circled my brain, ones that I could never be granted an answer to. The doctors and nurses told me only what they could and when I pushed for information, for a sign that Grace would be okay they left without answering- awkwardly avoiding the question. I made myself optimistic, I made myself believe that it would all be okay. Maybe it wouldn't, maybe things wouldn't get better but I prayed for Grace as she lay in a hospital bed- her eyes shut as a mask helped her breathe.

I sat by her bed, my hand in hers. I tried to talk to her, as if she was lying right next to me but whenever I went to speak my throat clammed and the words never rose. No words could justify how I felt, my fear couldn't be compressed into sentences. Although talking about everyday life seemed rude, she was robbed from the normal life she deserved and it was more than inconsiderate of me to talk about it as if nothing had changed; as if she wasn't dying.

At least that's what I assumed; the doctor came in seconds after the tears began to fall. I felt so small standing next to him, an insignificant being. Partly because I couldn't help Grace and he could. It wasn't fair, I should be able to take care of her, I should have done a better job of looking after her. Because it was my fault she was here.

The doctor said that she would get better, they weren't sure how quickly but they promised me she would recover. They had promised. She was getting better.

A felt a small smile appear on my face, a smile for Grace. She would never know just how important she was to me, how I needed her to survive.

I sat by her bed, watching her lay still. They weren't sure when she would open her eyes, when she could breathe properly by herself but I sat next to her, waiting for her hand to move; for my hope to return.

And eventually she did, three days later her eyes opened. Slowly adjusting to the light and brightening when she found me.

"Hey." I whispered, squeezing her hand.

She squeezed it back and went to remove her oxygen mask but I held it back in place.

"Don't try and talk, it's okay." She looked at me questionably so I told her what she needed to hear. I told her about what happened from the moment she passed out to the moment she woke; leaving out the tears.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled, it was barely audible but as she spoke I realised how much I had missed her voice. How much I missed everything about her.

She closed her eyes again, her grip on my hand becoming looser. I didn't know how long I could go on like this, Grace never being really here. I sat back in the chair, my head falling. It sometimes seems like it's all too much, like there is only a small amount of thread holding me together. I stared at Grace as she was consumed in her unconscious state, she could make anyone look weak. She was so strong, she never let go but I was scared that maybe she would; that there would be a point where Grace couldn't hold on.

But this was Grace Helbig, when did she ever stop? When did she ever take a moment to step back and think for herself?

I sucked in my tears, she'd be okay.