Miguel O'Hara x (male character)

2.

Daemon was losing a lot of blood, maybe with a miracle he would reach the nearest hospital and maybe they would save his life... but it was in the hands of Miguel to let him live or die.

"You promised," Miguel said with a deep sob, his voice breaking with the grief that fills it. His hands shake as he desperately tries to stop the blood from spilling from his body, his expression growing more and more panicked with every second. "Tell me you're alright," he begs, his voice breaking again as he pulls him into his arms. "Please," he cries, looking at him with wide eyes. He reaches for something in his pocket and pulls out a cell phone, dialing for the police with the hand that wasn't covered in blood.

"911, what's your emergency?" Sounded on the other side of the line.

His voice shaking, Miguel responds to the voice on the other end of the line, "Someone's got a gunshot wound. I need an ambulance, please, it can't wait." His heart races as he looks down at Daemon, his hands shaking. "S-Someone shot him, and he's dying!" he shouts into the phone. "Please, just send an ambulance now!"

"Sir, calm down. An ambulance is going. Where did they shoot him?" The sirens started to be heard from the distance.

"It... it was the head," Miguel answers quickly, his eyes still frantically glancing at Daemon's body. It feels like it's been hours, but it's probably only been a few minutes. There's a sob in his voice, and he bites his lip to try and calm down. "Just please... hurry, he's been shot! I'm not a doctor, I can't do anything to help him!"

"The ambulance is outside, do not worry. Is someone else there? Can you come out with your friend?" The woman at the end of the line sounded calm, trying to get enough information for the medics and police that were outside of the house.

"What? There's no one else here," Miguel shouts into the phone, trying to ignore the sirens outside the door. Once they arrive, he'll be in a lot of trouble. But right now, all he can think about is Daemon. "I don't know what happened!" he exclaims, his voice shaking as he cries. "Some... some one just shot him, and I called the cops, and... and I'm just trying to help him!" he exclaims, his voice growing more frantic with every word.

The police entered the house, followed by the doctors, who soon put Daemon on a stretcher to take him away.

"Sir, are you okay?" Asked a policeman while looking at Miguel trying to help him to get up.

"I just want," Miguel sniffles, and a new wave of sadness washes over him as they put Daemon on a stretcher. He stands up slowly, and the policeman has to place his hand under his arm to help him. He wipes his tears away with one hand, and with the others, he clings tightly to the officer's arm. "I just... I need to know if he's going to be okay," he whispers, his expression growing more scared by the minute. "I can't lose him, not now."

"Sir, you need to calm down, me are going to take you to the hospital too. You seemed on shock right now. The doctors will try their best to help your friend." The police tried to calm down Miguel while helping him walk toward the car so they could bring him to the hospital.

"He's going to be alright, right?" Miguel asks, his voice pleading with the officers. "He doesn't have to die." Every step he takes feels like an eternity as he walks toward the car, his feet feeling as heavy as lead. It takes him a minute to get in the vehicle, but finally, he's sitting down, gripping his knees tightly as a new wave of tears wash over him. "He's going to be alright," he whispers to himself, but it feels more like he was trying to convince himself than anything else.

They reached the hospital in minutes, and the polices left Miguel there too, but he couldn't enter because he wasn't a familiar of Daemon.

A few hours passed before a doctor came out and approached Miguel.

"He is alive, but he might be in a coma. The shoot made damage in his brain, so we need to wait to know how severe it is." The doctor said. "You can enter the room ir you want, but he needs to rest." He added before leaving Miguel.

"That's... better than nothing," he mutters to himself as the doctor walks away. "Thank you," he whispers, before taking in a deep breath and preparing himself to go in.

Miguel walks into Daemon's room, and when he sees him hooked up to all kinds of machines and monitors, he freezes, and his heart sinks. His hands shake as he walks up to him, sitting down in the empty seat beside your bed. He takes a deep breath to try and compose himself before talking, though it doesn't seem to be working. It just makes him even sader.

Daemon's room was and would be lonely. He had no family or true friends, only a love interest, only Miguel. He was sleeping silently. He seemed calm, like it was just a nightmare. But reality was harsh. He was fighting for his life.

Quietly, Miguel reaches his hand out to brush Daemon's hair away from his face, his fingers just caressing his skin for a moment before he pulls his hand back, his eyebrows furrowing as he watches him breathing. He takes a deep breath, waiting, hoping for him to wake up as he waits patiently, his eyes glued to your face.

"I'll wait all night if I have to," Miguel whispers to him, his voice shaking with emotion as his eyes dart to the hospital staff. "Whatever it takes. I won't leave you."

Some months passed, and it seemed that Daemon wasn't going to wake up, but at the end, he did.

Miguel is exhausted. He's been at the hospital every single day for months, but he's never once thought about leaving. It's taken everything he's got to keep going, but the moment Daemon stirs, his heart lifts, and he rushes to his side. He's the happiest person in the world right now as he stands by your bed. "You're awake!" he exclaims, his voice breaking with joy.