Letters From the Lost

~Max~

I tried to force Noah to go home, but he wouldn't. He said that if he left and something bad happened to me, he couldn't forgive himself. I hate that he feels like he failed me because he didn't protect me from Jackson, but Jackson was always going to be a problem in our relationship, whether it happened sooner or later wasn't known.

Noah laid next to me, holding my body so tight against his, it honestly kind of hurt. He was sleeping, but his grip on me was still so tight. Breathing was still a struggle. Since I had so much internal bleeding, they had to keep me in the hospital. I had one surgery to fix whatever was going on in my stomach, another to stop internal bleeding, and the last one to fix a punctured lung. I guess the doctor didn't notice that one part of my ribcage was still fractured and it was digging into my lung, puncturing it. Noah told me they did all of them while I was still in the coma, which was risky and I'm sure terrifying for Noah. But I pulled through for him.

I felt Noah starting to stir next to me. He kissed the top of my head softly. "Good morning, my love," I whispered.

"Good morning, sweetheart. How are you feeling?" He asked. He climbed out of the bed and stretched out his long legs.

"My body still hurts and breathing can get a little difficult. But other than that, no issue. Just ready to go home already." Noah chuckled quietly.

"Me too, sweetheart." He climbed back in bed and pulled me close to him. I cringed at the pain, "Sorry," He muttered before loosening his grip on me.

A nurse walked in smiling, "Good morning, Max, how are you doing?" I lifted my head from Noah's chest and sat up all the way.

"I feel good enough to get into my bed. When can I go home?" I really didn't feel good enough to go home, but I just wanted to be home. I wanted to be in my bed and Noah to hold me, there was so much I wanted but I knew none of it was going to happen simply because I asked the nurse when I could go home.

"The doctor needs to do an examination, we'll see what he says." She walked toward me and stood next to the bed. She looked over my chart, making quiet little hums while writing stuff. She checked my vitals and wrote stuff done on the chart. "Oh, a guy called earlier while you were still sleeping. He said to call him back when you woke up but didn't tell us his phone number. Do you have any idea who it was?" The nurse's voice was sweet and frail.

"Was his voice deep and raspy, did he also sound exhausted?" I knew in my chest that it was Chief Jones, but there was also a sliver of anxiety filling my mind that it was Jackson.

"Yes! It sounded like he was southern, I take it that you know who it was." The nurse smiled a little wider. I let out a breath of relief.

"Oh, yes, I do! He's my dad, he can be a little scatterbrained when he's stressed so he probably forgot to leave his number." The nurse giggled quietly before leaving. I looked up at Noah and he was grinning down at me. "What?" I questioned.

"You called Chief Jones your dad," He answered.

I didn't even realize I said that, but in reality, he kind of was my dad. He wasn't my father, but he was my dad. "He may not have been my father, but he was my dad. Just because he didn't screw my mom, it doesn't mean I can't call him my dad." I immediately regretted snapping like that. I don't know why I did, it just happened. I had no reason to be mad at Noah. Maybe a mixture of exhaustion and being on so many different medications. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry, please don't hit me!" I whispered. I could feel tears burn my eyes. Noah would never hurt me, and I knew that. But deep down inside, I still snapped at Noah. And every man has a temper, and at some point, my stubbornness was going to cause Noah to snap. I scooched away from Noah slightly.