The Darkness Of Healing // Ruel // English

Chapter 1

The Darkness Of Healing, the sequel to Panic Attacks. It is recommended that you read Panic Attacks before starting this book because of the background information.

TW:
Full trigger warning list in story description.

Side note:
The sexual content in this book was never written with the intention of sexualizing Ruel. The character Ruel is fictional with a few things that correspond to his real life, the rest is all based on a self-made character that doesn't exist in real life.

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And there I am, in the white hallway where the footsteps echo in the air and are reflected off the tiles. I could almost hear my heart beating three times. The doctors would almost wonder where the raging sound was coming from.

I move my legs up and down nervously, hoping that this way the fear will disappear from my body. But it doesn't. Not even with squeezing Blake's hand. He came to the hospital especially for me to assist me. Yet I deserved to suffer. Suffering in pain, suffering in fear of loss.

It's my fault we're all sitting here in the waiting room now, so I better pay for it. No one blames me and I don't understand why. I didn't want to listen to him when we argued. I was the one who walked away while he was trying to explain it all to me. So he ran after me. I don't know the exact reason. I don't think I'll ever know either. How can I not blame myself when it turns out that Ruel has died. He should never have sacrificed himself, because then I would be the one lying here in the hospital. No one was in charge except the people who really cared about me, and there aren't that many. And certainly now I will understand that. I still don't understand why his family didn't send me home. They even sit down to justify my negative thoughts. Assure me that they are not mad at me. That it was Ruel's own choice to jump in front of the car and push me away. I don't understand why he would do that for me after all. After everything I've done to him. That is a lot. He shouldn't have been hurt again because of me. He saved my life enough times. He may not be a hero with a cape, but he is someone who saves lives. Lives of many people. Now I don't want to think about all those fans who would be hopeless if this news were to get out. I don't want to know how their lives collapse.

For the umpteenth time a nurse comes to bring us tea. I don't even know how long we've all been sitting here. Whether that's an hour or half a day. Nobody is hungry. Nobody wants to get up. Nobody wants to leave this place. Ralph has a crying Kate in his arms. Coco and Sylvie hold hands as they watch a series for distraction. I can't blame them. I wish I had a distraction, but every sentence Blake says to me doesn't even seem to go through my ears. Staring at my hands in my lap, I twist the ring around my finger and put the nails in my palm. Too hard. When Blake sees my hands bleeding he grabs them tighter and holds them together. It's like being tied up in a straitjacket in a psychiatry. Just to not hurt myself and others around me.

I start to cry as I feel the blood flowing from my hands spreading across my skin, getting between the veins. It feels just like the blood that started pouring from Ruel's head. I can't fight the flashbacks in my head. It makes me want to slam my head against the wall with hope that the bang will ruin my power of imagination. But Blake knows what I am up to, so he takes my head to lay on his chest. He is short of arms and now has to hold my hands with one hand. I wouldn't trust myself now either. I feel Ruel's fingers wrap around my hand, his soft hair brushing between my fingers. I see his eyes slowly closing as I hear myself begging. Begging that he should stay with me. I hear the sirens wail and come closer and closer to us. It hurts my ears, but I want nothing more than for them to come and help me. In the hope that they could still save him, they put him on the stretcher and drive him into the ambulance and I watch. Watch as all my courage is dwindling. Watch as his head is turned towards me. It's not as peaceful as how he sleeps. There is pain to read. Pain on the face that I see losing more and more color. I don't want him to die of pain. He owes that to nothing at all. When I'm asked to sit in the front of the ambulance, I know enough. It's too painful to watch someone die. The moment I was sobbing next to the driver in the seat, I called everyone. With trembling hands I had to hear the reaction of his family. First the silence of disbelief, then the voice that breaks at one word: 'no'. Then the tears come, I could almost feel them on the other end of the line. Or it's the ones that flow over my own face. Along with the enormous guilt.