Speak Now & Surprises [Hunter Hayes fanfic]

Chapter 32

It arrived a week after I ordered it, glinting edgily beneath the artificial lights of the ward. My prosthetic leg.

The slim metal contraption fastened onto my stump of a leg with several straps, supplied suspension and support for over twice my body weight. At least my remaining leg could now take a break from all the extra pressure.

“Are you sure you’re steady?” Amelia asked me warily, her arms spread far apart and ready to grab me if I began failing. The glamour and glitz had been long since washed from her wardrobe, this much was evident, as she knelt before me with her blonde hair scraped back into a bun and wiping her hands on some old sweats. In all honesty I hadn’t thought that Amelia would stick it, but she had, and I was proud of her.

“I think I’m okay... hang on, hold my hand please.” I asked Amelia, extending my arm to her. She grabbed it without hesitation and helped me click along the length of the ward on my new leg.

“You’re doing it Shel, you’re walking again!” she screamed, despite the annoyed glares we got off a few of the other patients.

“I know, I know!” I congratulated myself in return. Little over two weeks after the car crash that changed my life, I could walk again. I felt the tears spilling over my face and onto my cheeks; my throat beginning to tighten as I choked out a message to my sister, thanking her for staying with me through thick and through thin.

“Hey, chin up chick.” She grinned, wiping away her own tears, “I couldn’t have left you even if I’d wanted to.” Now she was really crying.

Together we walked all over that Pittsburgh hospital. Many people applauded us and we applauded each other. It felt like all the pieces were fitting back together again, that all hope was not lost, that...

“Liz?” I asked incredulously, because right in front of me in the hospital lobby was Elizabeth Huett.

She stood alone without any baggage or companions, in a pinstripe t-shirt and black high-low skirt. Slowly, she removed her hands from her mouth and pointed at my prosthetic leg.

“The hospital gave you that?” she stuttered barely audibly.

“No,” I shook my head, “my nurse said I’d never walk again.” I told Liz defiantly. I’d never liked that nurse – she was much too pessimistic and moody for my liking – people like that shouldn’t work on wards with dying people, it just makes the poor patient suffer even more.

Liz slowly blinked the tears from her eyes and she walked forwards to hug me tightly, making sure that most of my weight was on her.

“I was so scared to come in here and find you still strapped down to that bed.” She whispered into my ear. I could feel her tears, hot and wet on the side of my face.

“Yeah, I got annoyed with that pretty quick too.” I grinned, hugging her back tightly. Amelia and Liz helped me all the way back to my ward before I even thought about asking Liz what she was doing here. Wasn’t she meant to be with the tour in Foxboro? Or was it Cleveland? Or was it...

“Montreal. But that’s not for eight days.” Liz informed me from the end of my bed. “Actually,” she quickly glanced out of the window, “We’re all here to see you for a few days.”

Now it was my turn to clasp my hands to my mouth.

“No way, Liz? All of you?” I squealed excitedly. I hadn’t admitted it to Amelia, but I’d been missing my tour mates dearly, and wished that she’d had the opportunity to meet them. She bit her lip and grinned excitedly.

“Hey, aren’t you wearing that ‘Angel’ lipstick by MAC that you leant me?” I asked without thinking. She nodded eagerly, surprised that I recognized it.