Chapter 14

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Anne's POV

-Time Skip-

It has been a week since Sasha went into a coma. I have been at the hospital every day, waiting for her to wake up.

I have not been to work because I am beyond sleep deprived. I have slept a little, but not much.

Since we can't have conversations for obvious reasons, I have been reminiscing old memories of us. I have talked about the Toad Tower fight, opening our college letters together, and the random kiss at The Pier.

I had an itching feeling that today would be different. I just felt like she would wake up any minute.

Hours sped by, killing my confidence.

"Please Sasha," I pleaded while lightly squeezing her hand, "Please don't give up. The Sasha that I know would never give up the fight. She is strong and independent. She always fights for what she wants like when you defeated the guardian at the third temple."

I felt a thumb graze across my hand, "Damn right."

I looked up, seeing Sasha slowly regain consciousness.

"Sasha," I was weeping tears of pure joy, "yo- you're okay!"

She groaned in pain, looking around between her wrapped arms and surroundings, "Anne, where am I? What happened?"

I started to tell the long, hard truth about what happened.

...

I finished, "I know you are probably hurt and angry, and I know you probably never wanna see me again..."

She shushed me, lifting her arm and placing a hand on my cheek.

"Ah," Sasha put her arm down, grunting in pain.

"Are you okay," I tilted my head.

"Do you mean physically or mentally," she tried to joke, "Because the answer is no."

"I'll get the doctor," I started to turn around.

"Wait," she begged, "don't go. Stay."

"Of course," I sunk back into the seat, "Look Sash, I know what Marcy and I done. If I could change it, I would. I was a terrible person for not saying anything."

"Anne, stop right there," she demanded, "Do not talk bad about my girlfriend."

Girlfriend. Does that mean we are still together?

"But I do not deserve to be with you," I hated to admit it, but it was true.

"Sweetheart," she lifted one of my hands and put it on her chest, so I could feel her heart beating, "relationships have bumps, but it is up to both of us to work through them together. I should have communicated better with you. I'm sorry. If only I had communicated properly, we wou-..."

It was my turn to cut her off by leaning over the bed, kissing her.

My hand was still sitting on her chest as I felt her heartbeat speed up.

I broke the kiss, "Sasha, I will always be here for you. I will never force you to do anything you do not want to."

"That means a lot," Sasha suddenly began to hyperventilate, "I want the pain to stop. I want the nightmares to stop. I- I'm afraid. Afraid of what I might do to myself."

She's afraid. I hate seeing her in such a state.

The doctor can running into the room as her heart rate was shot up. I rushed out as more doctors and nurses swarmed the room.

...

The hospital staff was running some tests. He said something about a lot of physical, mental, and drug tests.

Just the thought of it all made me slightly uneasy. I was fidgeting with my hands, so I took a few breaths to ease my brain.

Finally, I saw the double doors slowly open. The doctor, along with a nurse pushing Sasha in a wheelchair, came out.

I sprinted over to see what the verdict was, "how is she?"

The doctor lifted his clipboard, "She is still weak from the loss of blood, so we are prescribing the wheelchair for now. We are referring her to see a therapist. As for work, we are granting a leave for the time being. Otherwise, she is alright to go."

I pushed the wheelchair out to my car. I helped Sasha load up.

"How are you feeling," I tried making small talk.

She was quiet, refusing to speak.

"Don't wanna talk right now," I tried again.

She shook her head no. I could tell she was numb and didn't have the energy to explain herself.

The drive to my apartment was nothing, but pure silence.

I promised that I would not force her into anything, and I plan to keep that promise. I really wanted to know if we were going to actually talk things through or not though.

...

Sasha's POV

We got back to Anne's apartment. Anne loaded me back into the wheelchair and tried wheeling me in.

"I can do it myself," I snapped.

She backed off from pushing while I rolled myself with a hurt expression.

I hate being treated like I am helpless. I am not a person that likes asking for help.

"Look," I felt bad, "I appreciate you helping me. It is just hard. I shouldn't take my anger out on you. I'm sorry."

"I get it. I figured you didn't mean it because everything that has happened," she sighed with relief.

A tiny smile crept across my face.

"Sooooo," Anne started up again, "since you are confined to my apartment for a while, I used my vacation days at work to care for you."

"What," I was alarmed, "you don't have to do that!"

"Sashy, I plan to take care of you by being there when you need me and make sure that you meet with your online therapist," she made clear.

Looks like I am going to have to accept that sometimes everyone needs a little help. It is weird being a kid's therapist, yet I struggle to apply my own advice to myself.

Anne helped me into the bed, so I could rest and try regaining some strength. She plopped in the bed next to me, staring into my eyes.

Wow! I could easily get lost in her dark brown eyes.

"Uhh Anne," I nervously bit my lip, "I think I am ready to talk."

Her intense stare softened, "Are you sure? You don't have to."

I shook my head, "I'm positive."

With that, I processed to explain everything. The rage. The mental breakdown. The drugs. The self-harm. The suicidal intentions. All of it.

She paused for a long time, trying to process everything. Just thinking about it is a lot for anyone to take in.

"I don't know what to say," she mentioned, still frozen, "No matter what anyone says, you are important. You are special and definitely not alone."

I'm really starting to believe that words of reassurance is my love language.

"Do you ever get tired of reassuring me," I popped off.

"Sasha, is that really a question," I could hear the hurt in her voice, "I reassure you because I want to, not because I have to."

Hearing her say that, I felt legitimately happy. This time it was real.

She makes me so happy. I want to marry this girl, or at least in the future.




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Hope you enjoyed.

-Whit

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