She wanted to die.
He wanted to live.
•••
A hand grabbed onto my wrist, yanking me back just as the train rushed past, before I'd even had time to comprehend whether or not I'd carry out the action. I stumbled back into the person's chest, my hear...
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"Anyone would think you had a death wish, Will."
I scoffed, my jaw taut as I held in the cough itching to escape from the burning in my lungs, my body barely holding itself together as I sat slumped in the wheelchair. Each breath felt like a round of bullets to my chest, and I titled my head to send an unamused glance to the nurse wheeling me but I found myself too weak to complete the simple action. My body tensed in discomfort as I only caught sight of the ends of her braids before I had to fall back into the chair, my bones aching from the miniscule movement.
"Funny you say that, since I'm dying and all," I muttered, my voice sounding quiet amidst the hum of beeping machines and clatter of footsteps passing to and fro. I watched the wheels turn in time with the faces of waiting families inconspicuously sending me sympathetic glances, mentally trying to diagnose me as I passed by them. I gestured to the wheelchair, sighing, "Was this really necessary?"
I was being escorted back to my room by one of the nurses on duty in my section of the hospital, Tabitha, since no one trusted me enough to actually return back to my room. I could hardly blame them for overreacting though; I'd hobbled in some time past nine in the morning and greeted the usual receptionist as he stared at me with a look of utter confusion. It would have been almost laughable if not for the internal blaze spreading its way through my bloodstream, numbing me in a piercing pain.
I took one look at the bright lights and recognised the faint yet familiar smell of disinfectant before falling in a heap of aching bones and giving into the gruelling agony that was reverberating through my body. Being swarmed by nurses as I stared up at the white tiles of the ceiling was the last thing I recalled from the morning - waking up in the room I'd spent a year living in to find myself hooked up to about seven different things was an unwelcome reminder of why I was here.
But after Cassie had collapsed in my arms and I'd had to hold her up, the back of her head bleeding into my hospital gown as the distant noise of Theo asking for a doctor rung in my ears, the last thing I was bothered about was being in physical pain.
I could do nothing to halt the incessant stream of anxieties in my mind that were flooding my brain with possibilities about Cassie, which seemed to be doing more damage than my actual sickness. The longer I went without knowing if she was okay, the more twisted the gnawing knot in my stomach grew. My perturbation felt unbearable as I tried to eradicate the haunting image of Cassie's bloodied figure collapsing over and over on repeat in my mind.
"Yes, it was necessary," Tabitha insisted, purposely pushing me around a corner too fast as I held on to the armrests, skidding slightly in the wheelchair just as another doctor walked past. She flashed him an innocent smile, noticeably slowing down her pace and waiting a few seconds before speeding off with me again. I smiled at her attempt to lighten my mood, hearing her stifle a laugh after the doctor did a double take before shaking his head to himself.
