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Somebody Catch My Breath

Troye's POV:
I hate false alarms, and I'm pretty sure I'm not the only one who loathes them.

Imagine being given the thing you've always wanted, you've worked so hard for. A new phone, perhaps. That outfit you had been staring at in the store window for so long. Anything. Imagine the joy of finally getting it and being able to touch it hold it in your hands.
Are you doing it? Come on, use your imagination, reader! There you go.

Now imagine that beautiful thing being ripped away from you. Smashed to pieces just like your hopes.

That's how I feel right now. Times about a thousand.

They tried to take her off of the life support machine, to see if she could start breathing unassisted, but she just crashed and the machine that measured her heart rate started going crazy.All my faith had come to nothing. I was ushered out by some nurses, who were ignoring my screams and cries to know what was happening to her.

The fragile wall of hope I had built up over weeks, came tumbling down faster than I could have ever imagined. I was left cowering beneath the rubble, not even being able to cry. There were no tears left inside of me, so I just sat there, shaking outside of her room. Nobody was paying much attention to me- the nurses were inside assisting the doctors in trying to resuscitate Noah.

Right now, she was in there, here life dangling by a thread. And here I was, having a panic attack like the coward I am. I mentally slapped myself.

Just as I was about to stand to go to the mens', Dr Tanner steps out of the room and catches my eye.

"What the hell is going on?" I demanded, before she could even open her mouth "You said she was going to get better. You said she was going to be fine!"

The small doctor flinched as the words hit her like needles.

"Strictly speaking, I didn't say those words, Mr Sivan," She said quietly, looking around to see if anyone could overhear us "but I understand, you have every right to be angry"

"Don't tell me you understand, because you don't. You'll never know how it feels." I hissed at her.

It was too late now to try and keep my cool. Rage had taken over my mind, and the only things coming out of my mouth were fueled by bitterness and hatred. All aimed at her.

"You're right, I shouldn't have said anything to you. I shouldn't have gotten your hopes up like that, I'm sorry." The doctor shook her head, tears brimming in her eyes.

I studied her as she blinked back the tears, threatening to spill over her eyelashes.

"Sorry isn't going to bring her back, though, is it?" I snapped, delivering the final blow.

The tears she tried so hard to contain, now flowed down her cheeks, making the young doctor's cheeks flush pink. She wiped them away roughly with the back of her hand.

I decided to  ignore her sniffs and puffy red eyes and glared at her, unmoved. She was feeling only a fraction of what I had been feeling for the past 7 months. We stood there for a while, in the deserted tiled hallway, waiting for someone or something to break the tension between us.

"We've managed to resuscitate her." The doctor mumbled "She's in a stable, but critical condition."

"Meaning?" I snapped impatiently

"Meaning she may be unconscious for a lot longer than we first anticipated."

"But what abut the baby? She has to deliver the baby!" I exclaimed, clutching onto the doctors shoulders roughly.

Her eyes widened and she shrugged me off quickly, tearing her fearful gaze away from me. I shuddered inwardly. Nobody had ever looked at me like that before, like they were genuinely afraid that I would hurt them. Suddenly, I regretted being so harsh on her, and guilt started to arise in the back of my mind.

"We will be performing a C-section." she said, once she had composed herself. "It will have to be soon- seven and a half or eight months at most."

"It will be a premature baby," she continued, gathering her confidence gradually " But there's a higher risk of her or him not surviving if it's full term."

The news hardly surprised me. It was just another piece of bad news in my life, which was bursting at the seams with unfortunate events.

I was too tired to continue interrogating the woman, so I nodded and tried to head to the bathroom once more.

"Mr Sivan!" she called, making me turn back to face her "One last thing,"

She fumbled around, cursing under her breath and muttering "where did I put it?"

Eventually, she located what she was looking for. It was brochure, filed in her clipboard. She handed it to me face down, and excused herself hastily.

As soon as she turned away, I flipped the glossy leaflet over, exposing the title;

Single Parents: What are the options?

I looked up, stunned. I didn't want to ever imagine a world without Noah in it, whether we had a child or not. Death itself seemed more appealing than existing without her. She was a part of me, like a vital organ. If she was gone, then I was too.

I tossed the brochure in a nearby bin and slammed my way out of the intensive care ward.

I didn't want to know the "options". I didn't want to be alive at all, at this point.

A/N:
Oops.
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***I NEED MORE BABY NAME IDEAS+GENDERS. IDK THE USER THAT SUGGESTS THE NAME I PICK WILL GET A SHOUTOUT  OR SOMETHING.***

Love you all x