Hold On I Still Need You

-The Breaking Point-

A/N: Just one new chapter today. I didn't feel like editing the second one. 

Sophie's POV: 

My eyes flutter open, but the familiar comfort of my room feels foreign. A dull ache lingers in my limbs, and every moment sends a wave of exhaustion crashing over me. My body feels alien, weak, as though it no longer obeys my commands. Panic flutters in my chest as I try to sit up, but the effort only worsens the pain.

Something is wrong. My breath catches in my throat as the sharpness of the fatigue hits me, far more intense than anything I've felt before. It feels like a cruel escalation, an unexpected twist. What happened overnight? Why is it so much worse?

My mind races with dread. Was this a sign of something deeper? Or worse, something irreversible? I heard the door creak open, and Keefe's voice cut through the haze of fear. "Foster? You okay?"

My throat tightens, the words stuck behind my lips. I don't know how to explain it. I don't know if I can.

I try to push myself up again, but my body protests, the pain coursing through me like a warning. I can't show how bad it really is. I won't.

I glance at Keefe, who's standing at the door, his eyes scanning me with an intensity that makes my stomach tighten. I force a smile, weak and unconvincing. "I'm fine," I say, though my voice trembles. "Just tired, I guess."

Keefe doesn't buy it. His brow furrows, his gaze never leaving me. "Sophie, come on. You're not fine." He steps closer, his expression softening. "What's going on?"

I open my mouth to deny it again, but the words feel too heavy, too hard to say. My body betrays me, throbbing with pain, dragging me deeper into a place I don't want to go.

"I—I don't know," I finally confess, my voice small. "It's worse. A lot worse." The weight of the admission presses on me, and for a moment, I can't look at him. "I don't know what's happening. I've never felt this bad before."

Keefe crouches down beside me, his hand gently resting on my arm. "You don't have to do this alone, Sophie. We'll figure it out, okay?"

I want to believe him, I do, but the fear clawing at me is suffocating. What if this is it? What if it's already too late?

"I've been trying so hard to stay strong," I whisper, my voice cracking. "But what if I'm not strong enough? What if I can't keep going?"

Keefe's gaze softens, his fingers tightening around my arm. "You don't have to keep going on your own. You don't have to carry this by yourself."

But I can't shake the fear that he's wrong. That things are only going to get worse. And I'm not sure I can handle that.

I hesitate, the words sitting on the tip of my tongue, but I can't deny it anymore. Keefe's expression is persistent, gentle but unwavering, and I know he won't let me back out this time.

"Okay," I say quietly, my voice shaking. "I'll... I'll let you help."

Keefe's eyes soften, but he doesn't say anything more. Instead, he moves quickly, taking charge in a way that's both comforting and overwhelming. He gathers me up and makes sure I'm steady on my feet, supporting me as we make our way out of my house. Every step feels like a struggle, my body still aching, but I don't protest. Not now.

When we arrive at Dr. Elwin's office, the sterile smell of antiseptic hits me. I feel small in the waiting room, like I don't belong here. But Keefe stays right beside me, his presence grounding me as we wait for our turn.

Dr. Elwin greets us with his usual calm, but his eyes quickly scan me, noting the way I'm slumped in the chair, my skin paler than normal.

"Let's get started," he says, leading us into an exam room. The tests are thorough, invasive, but I don't resist. I don't have the energy to fight it. I lie there, feeling like a patient rather than a person, and let him do his job.