Protect me

The Hospital

  Around 7 am the next day, Taylor jumped awake gasping for air. Her breathing was fast as she tried to get air into her lungs. Her body shook and by the blue tint of her skin, she knew she was lacking oxygen for some time.

Her fuzzy morning vision deceased and her eyes focused on the bars of the crib that kept her trapped in the mini prison. The morning sun was just beginning to peak from behind the mountains, only enough flight to make the window glow. It has to be early.

  She rolled onto her tummy panting, trying to catch her breath. She cringed at the movement, her wet diaper making itself known by pressing onto her inner tights.

   She whined and struggled to her knees, feeling light-headed, a few days ago she would have thought this was a perfect opportunity to escape and she would have taken that. But now, all she wanted more than anything was for Asher to rush into the room and bring her into his arms.

  Taylor could feel a bit more panic in bed but when she realized her breathing in continuing to shallow. 

   Without thinking she uses her last breath the yell "D-DADA!!" she ends with a cough.

She doesn't know why she calls him that, or why she did last night, but after Asher took her in her arms and soothed her to sleep, it just felt right. Like a natural instinct.

Only nearly seconds after Taylor's cries, Asher comes groggily strolling in. He was only in his boxes, brown hair a mess, and rubbing his eyes. Not realizing the severity of the situation.

"B-baby" he yawns, trailing over the crib and lifting her in his arms. "It's too early for you to be up litt-" As Asher's eyes focus he is met with The fresh tear stains on Taylor's cheeks and a blue tint to her skin.

"Taylor!" patting her back, to see if she's choking. "Breath baby, breathe for me." keeping a steady tone, not showing panic.

The back pats and reassurance brought Taylor back a bit but she still wasn't good.

  Taylor's eyes are zoned out but her hands clutch tight to Asher's bare shoulders. "H-hwelp mee!" she pleas.

"I will baby, I am. I promise you will feel better if you slow your breathing a bit."

"Scawedd," she coughs.

"I know... I know. Breathe darling, breathe with Dada."

Even in her state of panic, Taylor hides her face a bit in shame, she feels stupid for calling an 18-year-old boy her school Dada. But in her mind, it seems to make sense.

  Asher was thinking about the same thing all night, trying to decide how to act on it. He never once thought it was weird or wrong, from the beginning it was a goal of his to get Taylor comfortable enough to call him Dada. He just didn't expect it so soon.

When Taylor calls him Dada it fills his heart with such an overwhelming amount of joy, he feels he has gotten the family he never had. It was the life his life goals suddenly became clear and he was ready to sacrifice his life and anyone else for Taylor.

Though he wanted to have a long conversation about it with Taylor, right now his only goal was keeping her breathing.

  Taylor seemed more calm but her breathing was very labored and she was extremely weak.

  She was sick. Very sick. The color from her face was completely drained and she laid eerily still. Asher could since something was really wrong.

She needs to be taken to hospital.

Asher placed a pillow from Taylor's crib onto the changing table and laid her weak down. He was hoping that having the pillow there would stop Taylor from having a breathing attack.