Perfectly Arranged

-59- Flatline

[Flatline]

Third person's pov 

The paramedics brought Freen to the hospital followed by Becky and Bright's car. They entered her in the emergency room and Becky and Bright were left outside. Becky facepalmed herself and Bright notices the frustration visible in her face. 

" Becky, she will be fine. You don't need to worry so much -  " 

" How can I? Tell me, how am I going to calm down knowing she sacrificed herself today. Worse, for me. " Becky stated still in the verge of crying. 

"Becky, please try to calm down.  The doctors are doing everything they can for Freen."  Bright's voice was strained, barely a whisper above the rhythmic beeping of the machines.

Becky stopped pacing, but her body remained a coiled spring of barely controlled fury.  "Calm down?  How can I calm down when my entire world is falling apart? When Freen is fighting for her life?" Her voice was raw, a ragged edge of barely suppressed hysteria.

Bright reached for her, his hand trembling. "Becky, I—"

She flinched away, her eyes blazing with unshed tears.  "Don't," she hissed, her voice laced with ice. "Don't touch me. Don't offer false comfort. Just… be here.  A silent witness to my despair.  Anything else of will be a cruel mockery, if you offer that. " The tears finally broke free, a torrent of anguish that seemed to mirror the storm raging within her.

A suffocating silence descended, broken only by the relentless beeping and the hushed whispers of the hospital staff.  Bright felt a crushing weight of helplessness, his inadequacy a physical burden.  His words, his gestures, felt utterly meaningless in the face of Becky's overwhelming grief.

He shifted, his gaze fixed on the floor, his throat constricting. "Becky," he began again, his voice a low, strained murmur, "there's something… something I must tell you. Something that will… that I hope will not change everything between us."

Becky looked up, her tear-streaked face a mask of raw pain and a chilling premonition. "What is it, Bright?" she breathed, her voice barely a whisper, laced with a dread that mirrored his own. The unspoken question hung in the air, heavy with impending doom.

He closed his eyes, bracing himself for the inevitable explosion.  "It's about Prim," he confessed, his voice a barely audible rasp.  The words hung in the air, pregnant with unspoken implications.

A long, agonizing silence stretched between them. Becky stared at him, her eyes widening, her breath catching in her throat. The puzzle pieces, previously scattered and meaningless, were suddenly falling into place with a terrifying, almost supernatural speed. 

"Prim?" she whispered, her voice barely audible, laced with a chilling mixture of disbelief and dawning horror. The unspoken question hung heavy in the air, a silent scream of dread. The suspense was almost unbearable.

Bright swallowed hard, his throat thick with shame and regret. He knew the truth would shatter her, but he couldn't bear the weight of his silence any longer.  

"It was a deal," he confessed, his voice breaking. 

"A deal with Prim… a deal that involved Freen…" He paused, letting the horrifying implications hang heavy in the suffocating silence.  He couldn't bring himself to utter the full, brutal truth.  The unspoken words were far more terrifying than any confession. The suspense was unbearable. The truth was a monster waiting to be unleashed, and he had unleashed it.