desertion

58

TW: throw up!!

MILES

I stared at the hospital room, the fluorescent lights humming softly above me. It was the next day, yet the atmosphere felt just as heavy as the night before. Lydia lies in the bed, her face pale and drawn. She was talking to Eddie, her voice a weak whisper that barely carried across the room.

"Dad, it hurts.. here." she said, placing a trembling hand over her stomach. It pained everyone to see her like this, a stark contrast to the vibrant girl who had filled every room with laughter. She was clearly losing her strength, her words slow and labored, as if each syllable was a battle.

Eddie leaned closer to the bed, worry etched into every line on his face. "I know. We're going to figure it out."

But as I watched, the color drained from Lydia's face. She suddenly leaned over, her breath hitching, and before anyone could react, she was violently throwing up into the bowl they had placed by her bedside.

"Lydia!" Eddie shouted, panic rising in his voice as he rushed to her side. "Just breathe."

I felt frozen, unable to move or speak as the scene unfolded before me. The sound of Lydia's distress filled the air, and it felt like a weight pressing down on my shoulders. I wanted to help, to comfort her, but I was rooted in place, overwhelmed by the gravity of the chaos.

"Miles!" A voice snapped him back into reality. It was Hen, standing beside Buck. "Come on!"

Without thinking, she grabbed my arm and led me away from the chaos. I casted one last glance at Lydia, wishing I could do more.

**********

BUCK

I stepped into the room, my heart racing. The moment I saw Lydia, I felt a rush of emotions-fear, anger, helplessness. She was in distress, and it cut deep to see her like this.

The doctors were already moving around the room, their demeanor professional yet urgent. I kept my eyes on Lydia, who was leaning back weakly against the pillows, her body seeming to give up. The nurse waved her hand in front of Lydia's face, trying to get her attention, but she looked dazed, her exhaustion palpable.

As Eddie and I stood by and watched the scene unfold, Lydia's gaze flickered to us. A hint of light returned to her eyes, but it was fleeting. I could see the worry etched on our faces reflected back at us in her weak eyes. She smiled weakly, as if she were trying to reassure them even in her own pain.

"We're going to get you some water, okay? You need to stay hydrated," the nurse said gently, her voice calm as she prepared to help Lydia.

Lydia nodded, though her hands trembled, and I could see that her body was not recovering quickly from the ordeal. Eddie stepped forward, placing a reassuring hand on Lydia's shoulder. She looked up at him, fear swirling in her eyes, and my heart sank at the sight.

"I want to go home," Lydia murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

The nurse shook her head gently. "I'm sorry, but you won't be able to go home for a few days, especially after everything that just happened."

A heavy sigh escaped Lydia's lips, and I watched as her eyes fluttered open and closed, the weight of her weakness crashing down upon her.

The doctor entered the room, glancing at Lydia's vitals before looking at Eddie. "We'll be back with the test results soon. We need to run her labs again," he explained, his tone reassuring but firm.

Eddie nodded. "Thank you," he replied, his voice choked with emotion as he watched the medical staff leave the room.

I took a seat in the chair beside Lydia's bed. Eddie sat in the other chair, his eyes never leaving his daughter.

Lydia's head began to droop, her body finally succumbing to exhaustion. Eddie reached out, brushing a few stray hairs from her forehead.

As her breathing grew deeper and more rhythmic, I exchanged a glance with Eddie, both of us sharing the same unspoken fear that lingered in the air.

We would be there for her, no matter how long it took.