The Therapist's Son // Ashton Irwin [AU] ✔

31.

I woke up to an unfamiliar beeping, but I was able to feel my heartbeat in my head. I swallowed harshly, feeling like there was dust and cotton stuffed in my throat, my tongue was sandpaper against the roof of my mouth.

"Natalie?"

I felt nauseous. I wanted to be sick. What happened?

"Natalie, can you hear me?" The words echoed in my head, but I knew the voice. I could pinpoint it in a crowd of a thousand people.

"Mom?" I tried to force my eyes to open, but it seemed impossibe. I coughed again.

"I'll get a nurse." Came another voice, and my mom squeezed my hand reassuringly. Footsteps left the room, and I forced my eyes open. The lights were bright and my vision was blurry, but I'd adjust. I looked to my right, and my mom sat next to me. Her eyes were bloodshot and had circles under them, her hair was a wreck. Her hands shook as they gripped mine for dear life.

"M'thirsty." Was the only thing I could seem to say, coughing the dust out of my dry, shriveled lungs. I felt like I was dying.

"I know, baby. The nurse will be here in a minute," Mom's bottom lip quivered as she spoke, and she stroked my hair. "I'm so relieved you're okay."

"Natalie," Came an unfamiliar voice from the doorway. The nurse. It looked like she had a styrofoam cup in her hand. "How are you feeling?"

"She said she's thirsty."

"Normal response. Here, drink this." I gingerly took the cup from the woman, sipping the cool, refreshing liquid. I drank slowly, feeling weak.

"What happened?"

"You overdosed," The nurse explained, glancing at the EKG and changing the bag for my IV fluids. I almost freaked seeing the needle taped into my vein. IV's and bloodwork were the worst. "You almost put yourself in an induced coma. You would have too, if your friend hadn't gotten there in time. You're a very lucky girl."

No I'm not.

"How long have I been out?" I asked, finishing the water in the cup and holding it out to the nurse, silently asking for more.

"Almost three days."

Wow.

"You have a few steps for recovery, Natalie. You'll stay here to get your strength back, then you're going to go to a rehabilitation center for a week or two, and they'll make sure you're stable enough to go home. What happens from there is your mother's choice. We strongly recommend continuing your therapy sessions."

I sighed. I should be dead. Why didn't it work?

The nurse left, promising to be back in a few minutes with more water. I turned to face my mom, who had tears leaking from her eyes.

"Natalie..." She trailed off, at a loss for words. I didn't want to talk about it, but my mother deserved an explanation.

"I'm sorry, Mom. I wasn't strong enough anymore. I hate myself for what I've done in the past year. I deserved to die with the rest of them." My mother sighed.

"Maybe moving so far wasn't the best decision," She admitted. "I...I thought it would be better for you, but I never thought it could make things worse."

"No one cares about me anymore. I didn't want to live this way." I whispered, coughing again. I concluded my throat probably hurt so bad from forcing down so many pills at once. I'm surprised I didn't die choking.

"Lots of people care about you, Natalie. Far more than you realize." She brushed a strand of hair from my face.

"Like who?" I snapped.

"Me," The response was instant, coming from the doorway. I looked over and saw a familiar blonde in the doorway. His eyes were puffy, and his hair looked flatter and dirtier than usual. He stood with his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants, something out of the norm for my best friend. "Debbie, is it okay if I have a minute with Natalie?"

My mom seemed hesitant to leave my side. I assumed she hadn't since I'd been here, but she nodded anyways.

"I'm going to go get a coffee from down the street, I'll be back soon." Mom had always hated cafeteria food and drinks. Even when they were doing surgery on Ashley and Mom hadn't slept for twenty hours, she still got coffee from next door instead of the cafeteria. Hospital foods and beverages give her anxiety.

She kissed my forehead, stood up, brushed past Luke, and left.

Luke stood in the same spot in the same position, staring at me. Frozen. As if I would vanish if he even blinked.

I moved over and patted the mattress next to me.

"Come here. Please." I said. It was barely audible, but he nodded. He moved slowly, and sat gently, but I leaned against him and he loosened up a bit.

"Why?"

"I don't know," I said. "I'm just overwhelmed. There's a lot I've never told you."

"You know you could tell me anything." Luke said quietly, sounding hurt that I hadn't trusted him. I hadn't trusted anybody.

"I know," Was all I said. We sat in silence for a bit before I asked the question that was eating me alive. "Did my mom call you right away?"

He gulped.

"I called her."

At first, I didn't understand his response. When I did, my heart skipped, and the EKG showed it. My mom didn't find me. Luke did.

"You didn't go to school. I tried calling you for almost two hours afterwards and you didn't answer. I thought something was wrong. Maybe you were sick or something. I told my mom I was going to your house, and when I got there, it didn't feel right. You don't leave the door unlocked when your home," He paused, clearing his throat after his voice cracked. "I thought the worst. A killer or something. But I saw you in bed and I thought you just had the flu. But you weren't...You wouldn't answer me, you wouldn't wake up. You weren't moving, and you weren't fucking breathing" He choked out a sob, his breathing getting heavy.

Guilt flooded through my veins as Luke cried next to me.

"You're my best friend," He sniffled. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"I'm so sorry, Luke." I said and I meant it. He was the best guy, he didn't deserve to find his best friend half dead in her bedroom.

At the same time, I couldn't stop that one sick, twisted part of me from hating him for trapping me here.