Shattered Vows

February 5th

One Month Later:

February 5th:

It must have been a test of sorts, and she had failed.

She sits curled up in a ball on the stiff, wooden chair, her legs bound tightly to her chest by her arms. She places her head on her knees and ignores the tingling sensation when her limbs begin to fall asleep. She drifts in and out of consciousness to the rhythmic beat of his heart on the monitor next to his bed.

In front of her, Nico lies in a hospital bed, unconscious. While his face looks peacefully asleep, a jagged scar forms above his eyebrow, and his wounded arm is wrapped in a cast. It's thought by the doctors that his right arm had prevented them from catapulting out the window, using his strength to keep them tied to the chairs.

He saved her when she tried to destroy him.

Jules had woken up in the hospital two days after the accident with little memory of the preceding events. She was stupefied when she woke up to see Alisa, whose meetings she had been evading for a while. Even more to her shock came the psychiatrist next to Dr. Singh. He ran through a series of examinations, ultimately labeling Jules with a diagnosis.

Borderline Personality Disorder and Post Traumatic Stress Disorder are two phrases Jules can't seem to wrap her mind around yet.

Her moods hadn't just been erratic. They were caused by a chemical imbalance in her brain, one she can't control. All of which she blamed herself her whole life for -- the inability to make friends, to trust, or to control her frequent mood changes -- isn't truly within her control. Her mind is warped in a way different from others. Not that it means she's damaged, all of this imbalance can be worked through.

Looking at Nico, though, all she can feel is guilt.

It is her actions that led him to this hospital room, his brown skin littered with cuts and bruises that have since healed, leaving scars in their wake. She watches him lay unmoving in his bed, his eyes flickering beneath the lids. His lips are pursed, his limbs slack, utterly undisturbed within a hurt body.

Unsure of what to do or say that will make up for every injury she's caused to his body, Jules settles to telling him sorry every night with a kiss on his forehead.

"Hey, Nicky," Jules' soft voice fills the room void of noise. It's just her and him right now.

People pass in and out of the room all day, every day, but Jules is here unfailingly every hour outside of school. Often in the company of his mom, but today Ms. Richardson went to visit Ty.

Jules still sits in the chair, only now her head is raised, her wide eyes on him.

"I told you a few weeks ago that I got fired from my job after everything went down, yeah? Well, Wren came to visit me today. We didn't talk for a while, but it was nice seeing her. And apparently, she and Phoenix are sort of a thing now-- friends with benefits is a better way to describe it, actually." Jules nibbles her lip, smiling at the memory of Wren describing in detail their newfound situation.

When Jules is only met with silence, it doesn't bother her as much as it had when she first started coming to visit Nico. She chooses to believe he is listening intently because she knows if he was awake right now, he would be.

"Do you think we'll get an F on our Economics assignment if we file for bankruptcy because of our new medical bills?" Jules giggles, shaking her head. In her mind, she can hear the low vibrato of him chuckling at her joke. While others may have found it in bad taste, Nico would have appreciated the comedic relief.

"I think Ms. Williams is too scared of your parents to do that, never mind."

The room is starch, and everything is clean and sterile. The only life brought into the room are pictures her sisters have drawn and taped up around Nico's bed. The kaleidoscopic drawings help to lure away from the somberness of the room. The shelf below the window is littered with daisies his mother replaces every week and stuffed bears from every member of his basketball team. There had also been a pair of birthday balloons (yes, random), but the oxygen has since depleted.

Sunlight filters in through the large paned windows. The snow is only a light blanket these days and has been melting for the past week.

"I really wish winter would end," Jules says, catching sight of the melting, brown, slushed snow. Little pebbles of blue salt are stuck to the soles of her shoes.

Looking back to Nico wordlessly, she puffs air between her lips. Instead of filling the silence with words, she opts for just staring at him, memorizing him.

She used to do this with her mom, engraving her features into her memory. There was a part of her that knew one day the real-life version wouldn't be attainable, and she would have to settle for memories. Although years of trauma have led her to bury any recollection of her mother's existence.

She does this with Nico now, almost on reflex. Of course, all of her prayers he will wake up, but that part of her filled with fear finds comfort in the small action.

She starts at the peak of his head, tracing down the curve of his nose. Her eyes skim over his cheekbone and sculpted thick eyebrows. The light pink scar slits through one of them and stops above his eyelid, where his long black lashes flutter. His lips are full and pink, moving down to the slope of his collarbone that leads to sturdy, muscled shoulders. The rest of his body is sculpted, even in his subdued state.

She watches how his chest rises and falls and matches her breathing with it, making sure it's steady.

It's a while before she gains the courage to move to her feet, making her way over to him. She stands beside him in the bed, bringing his large hand in both of hers. She traces the scars over his knuckles, holding the hand he had kept in hers the entire time, the hand that kept her alive.

It's crazy how much disaster lies within the small, almost blind cuts that engrave his skin.

She clutches his hand tight, holding it close to her chest.

"I won't stop saying sorry," she whispers, "even knowing that you would tell me to shut the fuck up. I won't stop saying it." Her eyes glisten with unshed tears, but there is a smile on her face at the thought of it. She holds onto that smile, making sure it doesn't falter.

Leaning down, she places a soft kiss over his eyebrow scar, letting her lips linger. She lets her body slope into him, feeling his firm chest beneath hers, shutting her eyes.

"Please wake up. I need to tell you something, but I can't say it until I know you're awake to hear me. So please, please wake up." She moves up from his chest, letting her hair drape over their faces, blanketing them in secrecy.

With a final kiss, she moves back to the chair, curling up into the ball, and continues to talk.

---

Authors Note:

This chapter is short but I feel like I've described a hospital too many times with Ty so I just couldn't do it with Nico too. 

Thoughts tho? 

Jules sufferers from BPD and PTSD which I will explain more later.

Like and comment.

- Nia