𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔 || 𝐭𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐰𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐬

chapter 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘-𝐎𝐍𝐄 - exhausted

"Grohl. I'm about an hour out now, in the cab," Emmalyn muttered as she watched the sunrise outside yet another muggy taxi window.

"Alright, I'll get a coffee ready for when you're here. Did you sleep alright on the flight?" Dave's voice was strained and exhausted, he was now alone in the hospital at Taylor's side, wondering how to approach his family about this; not that it wouldn't be on the news in the next hour or so.

"Yeah I slept fine," She didn't sleep a wink, "How's T?"

"He's been out for about 12 hours now, Doc says it's better he's not up right now. His systems having a nightmare Lins."

"Fuck, okay. Have you seen his mom or something? She needs to find out without the news, y'know what happened last time?"

"Emmalyn please tell me this is some sort of sick joke," Her mothers voice repulsed as it echoed through the shitty landline, her daughter's sobs making it even hard to make out what she was saying.

"Kurt's fucking dead?! He's dead?!" Emmalyn could practically hear her mothers heart shatter, a she spoke angrily at no one in particular. Her son had died. And she had heard it through Kurt Loder on MTV. How sick and twisted is that.

"I don't know how to call 'em. Jase and Heather live on opposite sides of the States and I haven't spoken to his mom in ages," Dave sighed, his eyes shutting as he rested his head against the wall outside Taylor's room; he couldn't bare to watch him lifeless.

"What's his moms number?"

"Uh I can text you it."

"I'll tell her."

"She won't know who you are, no offense Lins," He stifled a laugh at his dry comment, his throat equally dry as he spoke.

"I'll tell her I'm Taylor's girlfriend."

"Are you?"

"I fucking hope so."

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

As the sun came up over London's monotonous streets, Emmalyn dialled the number Dave had passed on, into her cell as she walked the ten minutes to the hospital.

It rung a few times, and she didn't have the mental capacity to work out whether or not it was a reasonable time where Taylor's mother was, not that she knew where that was anyways.

"This is Elizabeth, who's calling?" Given that her attitude wasn't immediately repulsed and angered, Emmalyn assumed she'd been awake already, and happy to answer the phone.

"Uh, I'm Emmalyn. Emmalyn Cobain," She left her comment for a moment or so, giving his mother the chance to recollect and see if she could rack her brain of the name, but also, Emmalyn had a little hope at the back of her mind that Taylor has dropped her name before. No luck.

"Are you a musician?" Her voice was sweet, not as gravelly or smoke-damaged as Taylor's, but she was a woman after all.

"Yeah I'm uh, friends with your son, Taylor."

"Oh cool. Are you with him? I'd quite like to speak to him when possible?"

"I was actually calling to tell you uh.." Emmalyn's tone lowered as she hastily crossed at some traffic lights, figuring out how on earth to tell a mother that her son is on the brink of death — and the thought of it killed Emmalyn. "I'm on the way to see him. He's at the hospital and he's in a coma."