Back To You // T.K

Pearl/Tom

'Fuck', Tom exclaimed as he tried to take a few steps but immediately sat back down.
He had been in the hospital for a few days now, and even if he was getting better he was still hurt.
Apparently, the injury on his abdomen wasn't as superficial as I thought it was: a piece of the window that broke from his side of the car cut through his stomach, which almost made him bleed to death.
At least his head was fine, though, - he had a pretty bad concussion, but luckily nothing to worry about.

'Okay, enough walking for today', I replied, as I helped him sit down on the chair next to the window.
I had been staying in that hospital with him day and night, - I was too scared and too angry to sleep at home, but I did go back to take a shower and change everyday, Bill and Jocelyn always with me.
For the time being, the two bodyguards we hired were fired, but I would've taken care of them very, very soon.

'How long is this going to last?', he complained, tilting his head back and closing his eyes to try and alleviate the pain.

'I'm sorry, baby', I said, kneeling down in front of him and taking his hands in mine, 'I wish there was something I could do.'

'Please, you're doing too much already', he whispered, 'you need a break. You've been sleeping in this chair for the past five days, are you sure your back is not hurting?'

I giggled at his words and stood up, as I bent down and gave him a kiss on his forehead.

'Even if it did, I wouldn't care', I replied, 'I'm staying here until you're healed, nothing is going to make me leave.'

'Well, eating a proper meal could be a good enough reason', he said, grunting from the pain as he shifted in his chair.

'We've already talked about this', I replied, standing up and opening the window so that the sun could light the room, 'I am eating.'

'I'm not dumb, Pearl. I may be injured, but I'm not dumb, - I know you're not eating enough.'

'Honestly, what I eat is the least of our problems right now-'

'Not to me!', he yelled, which caused him even more pain, 'I just want you to be okay.'

'And I want you to be okay', I said, 'so stop yelling and hurting yourself. I'm okay, I promise.'

He stared at me, as if he wanted to consider whether to believe or me not.
Truth was that he was right: I wasn't eating, not properly at least.
I was too worried about him being okay and figuring out what to do with Christian, and eating a meal had just slipped out of my mind.
I was starting to feel dizzy and tired, though, so I probably should've taken his advice, but I wasn't hungry anyway.
I was losing hunger and sleep thinking about Christian all day and everyday, it was killing me not knowing where he was.
Every time Tom complained or cried about how much pain he was feeling, I felt like I could murder Christian with my bare hands.
I was feeling so much anger, a type of anger I had never felt before, which could've put me straight to jail.
Me and Tom avoided that conversation, but I could've seen he was thinking the same thing.
The only difference was that, for the time being, I was the only one who could've done something, and I was going to, whatever it cost me, - if I had to die, if Christian finally killed me, then so be it, but I needed to at least try.

'Can you help me stand up, baby?', Tom's begging voice brought me back to reality.

'Yes, of course.'
I immediately put my hands on his arms and slowly and carefully lifted him up from the chair.
He held his breath and used all the strength he had to lift himself up and walk towards the bed, where he lay back down with his breath short.
He was getting better and better each day that passed, but I couldn't stand seeing him like this, and I know it killed him.
Bill had talked to him the night before, and he told me that Tom confessed how helpless and useless he was feeling, how much he was beating himself up for not being able to physically be there for me, to protect me.
As much as I loved him for always putting me first, all I wanted him to do was rest, heal and come back home.