Know Your Enemy

Part 18

The next two days went smoothly. My sling for my huge leg cast came off, Doctor Brad said the swelling went down immensely in just two days. During my stay at the hospital, I got the full treatment - the questionable gown, the wheelchair to shower/toilet, the shitty food, and the terrible tabloid magazines. Billie went out and bought be a book at the gift shop downstairs. On his birthday, when we fought... yeah, it hurt me to know he dropped out. We hadn't even gotten around to talking about that yet. To be completely honest, I really wanted to, but I didn't want to upset him. Of course, he could tell how I was feeling.
"Scar?" He started, noticing I was having a hard time trying to concentrate on the book. I kept putting it down and re reading the same paragraph over and over again.
"Scar, I know I told you I dropped out. And I know I hurt you in ways, that are unimaginable, but honestly, I was going to tell you - everything. I just didn't want to do it there." He took a deep breath, and put his head in his hands. I could tell he had been stressing about this just as much as I had.
Painful guilt shot through my chest. I punched the morphine button. I had caused him so much pain. I had just been all wrapped up in myself, got myself hurt... I didn't even stop to look at the big picture. Billie was scared to tell me that he'd done what he felt was right in his heart. He was scared to tell me his big dream. He was scared I wouldn't approve, and before everything happened... I didn't. It had hurt him.
The morphine started to kick in, pumping through my veins. It felt like sitting by the fire on a cold winter night. I could feel my core warming up, and the nagging pain in my broken limbs went away.
As it turns out, the only thing that was ACTUALLY broken in my body, was a couple of ribs, and my right leg. My wrist was just badly sprained, so I had a splint. I also found out I had twenty six stitches on my left shoulder blade. A piece of metal or something cut me pretty deep, but other than that, everything was chill. Thanks to the drugs I was on, nothing hurt.
I looked at Billie, his head was still in his hands. I leaned over, and touched his cheek. He looked at me with watery eyes.
"Billie..." I started, taking my hand away, and messing with the tube in my right arm.
"Mhm?"
"I'm getting pretty tired. Could you... I don't know... uh..." I tried to ask. I really did.
"Sure," he smiled, and scooted next to me in the shitty little hospital bed.
He was mindful of my cast, but I didn't care. I couldn't feel anything anyway. He leaned up against the hard plastic headboard, and I laid my head on his chest, kinda slumped against him. I put my giant leg cast up on the little elevation table a nurse had brought in for me earlier, and laid on my side, my splinted hand resting on his chest as well, my fingers playing with his necklace. It got very quiet all of the sudden, but with my head against his chest, I could hear his heart beating. Beating steady, his breath even. I felt his hand go to my hair, playing with it. I relaxed, letting the drugs put me calmly to sleep.

•••

*BILLIE'S POV*

It was about an hour later when one of the nurses woke me up. I had fallen asleep with Scar in my arms. She had fallen asleep before I had, they were pumping her with so many drugs... I couldn't blame her.
The nurse was pissed at me. She didn't like the idea of me being with Scar all the time while she was still sick. But whatever. Fuck it. The reason she came in the room anyway, was because she was going to tell Scar something. But since Scar was asleep, she told me.
"Her father came in about forty five minutes ago." She said, bluntly.
What the fuck? Why was he here?
The nurse saw my expression, and continued, "He came to see if she was alright - alive. He heard that she was in the accident, and he had to know. Doctor Brad spoke with him, and said she was fine. Then I saw they shook hands, and he left. Gone."
I was furious.
"Yeah. Sounds about right." I said bitterly, walking passed her, out the door, out of the hospital. I started to drive. Fuckin pissed. I drove to my house, picked up my guitar, and put it in my car. I had told Scar I'd play for her earlier today. She at least deserved some promise in her life - didn't she?! How could her father just come in and casually "ask" how she's doing? How could he not want to see her?! That was his kid for fuck's sake! She could be dead, and what would he do? Buy a couple flowers for her funeral and just say "nice knowing ya"?! Fuck!
I got back into my car and drove.
When I got to my destination, it wasn't the hospital. I walked up to the front door I had snuck passed many times before, and knocked.

•••

*SCAR'S POV*

I woke up just two hours later. My drugs had worn off, and my leg was cramping. Billie wasn't in bed with me anymore, but that was okay. He probably had things to do. I sat up and drank out of a glass of water on my bedside table.
There was a small knock on the door.
"Come in!" I said.
Nurse Jane walked in.
"Oh, good! You're awake," I smiled,
"Ms. Scarlett, I thought I would let you know, that your father came into the hospital today to check on you. She just wanted to know that you were alive and well. Of course, Doctor Brad gave him the okay. He left about three hours ago. I thought I'd let you know. I told your boyfriend. He left about two hours ago. Now, how about we try to get you to stand, hm?"
I was in shock.
Stand? Stand?! How was I supposed to stand, when all I wanted to do was puke?! My dad had been here... what about my mom? Did she send him? Did she come? Where did Billie go?? Oh god...
I clicked the morphine button out of habit. I didn't want to make the nurse upset or nervous, and I definitely didn't want to panic and have Doctor Brad come in here... so I just nodded to her question.
She walked over to the closet on the other side of my room, and pulled out some crutches. She came over to my bedside, and let down the protective railing.
"Okay, give my your left hand..." she started.
The whole process was difficult, considering the size of my cast, but when I finally got to standing, I felt the nausea hit my stomach. I punched the morphine again. It didn't work - it just made it worse. I blinked hard a couple of times, and tried to push away the feeling.
"Does it hurt?" Nurse Jane asked.
"A little, yeah..." I admitted, "but I want to keep going."
I started to walk with my crutches, and my morphine button in my hand. Nurse Jane held my morphine and IV bag, and walked in front of me.
I began to feel very dizzy at this point. My stomach hurt, and now my leg hurt. I clicked for morphine. It shit through my veins, worsening both my vision and my stomach. I started to panic.
Have I become immune to the only thing that helped me? Where was Billie? Mom? Dad? Someone was talking to me.
"Scarlett! Can you hear me?!" It was the Nurse. I shook my head tears welling up in my eyes.
"I'm fine." I whimpered.
"Oh thank god, I thought you were going to pass out again. Cmon, let's get you back into your room. And um... try not to push the morphine button too worse. Only use it if your in extreme pain. Any other time, and you could become addicted, and get very sick. Okay?"
I tried to hide my fear by simply nodding, once again.
We walked back to my room, my stomach still swaying, but other than that, I was fine.
Before she started to leave, Jane told me I would be released from the hospital at noon tomorrow. Ollie had already filled out the papers, and I had shown enough positive signs to be fully released. I would be prescribed sleeping pills, anxiety pills, and and pain pills. I would be a professional popper.
The nurse shut my room for the night, and I hadn't seen or heard from Billie since I went to sleep. My leg started to cramp once more. I nearly hit the morphine button, but I didn't. I had to be strong. At this point, it was a necessity.