Voices (A Sawyer Fredericks Fanfic)[sequel to A Gentle Touch]

Chapter Twenty

Violet's POV

Sawyer had been out of surgery for about an hour now. There was a thick bandage around his torso and an IV in his hand. The glass hadn't gone in too deep and he was expected to recover fairly quickly. The doctors were planning on discharging him as soon as he woke up but we wouldn't be allowed to go to the studio for a few days until he got enough rest. I scheduled Molly and Henry to come over in three days if he felt up to it but they didn't have to come. I can't believe he didn't just tell me. He's been really off lately and I don't know what's going on but I'm determined to find out. I don't know where he came up with Lysander or anything he's been seeing really and it was starting to scare me. I was also starting to get a little homesick. I wanted to go back to New York but I couldn't leave him now.

The Next Day

Sawyer's POV

My body was on fire. Sweat poured down my face as I shook violently. My stomach was killing me. It felt like I was repeatedly being stabbed. I had drawn the curtains and kept the lights off so that it was dark in my room. I could feel hot tears pouring from my eyes but I didn't care. I checked Twitter to try and get my mind off of it but I could barely lift my phone. All of a sudden I felt the nausea come back. I went to stand up but I was too weak. I wasn't going to make it. Then it happened.

Violet's POV

I heard a crash and gagging. I ran into Sawyer's room to see him on the floor in a puddle of vomit.

"I fell." He whispered.

I said nothing. I just pulled him up on his feet and brought him into the bathroom. After running the water I took his shirt off and wrapped the bandage in a garbage bag so it wouldn't get wet. Silently I took the shirt back and began to clean his bedroom floor. Again. This was the fourth time since yesterday. I knew he got self conscious if I said anything so I just did what needed to be done.

By the time I was finished Sawyer was stumbling out of the bathroom. I ran over and helped him into bed. His clean sweatshirt rustling against my arm. I sat him down and moved him into a laying position. He curled up shaking and I wrapped the covers around him again.

"It hurts." He let out a muffled sob.

I kissed his cheek and laid down next to him. I began to run my finger down his face as he cried to calm him down. He only cried harder. I began to hum softly and soon he was out, tears still streaming down his face. I hated seeing him like this. So sick and vulnerable and fragile. Enough was enough. I walked into the hallway and picked up my computer. After opening up Skype I waited a few rings and finally got an answer.

"Violet? Hi! How's everything going?"

"Hi Kirsten, and it's not. Kirsten please help me I don't know what to do!"

"What? Honey what's wrong, where's Sawyer?"

And so I told her everything. All of it. Our dates, Django, and his sickness.

"I'm just so torn." I admitted.

Suddenly I heard another crash. I ran to Sawyer's room to see what it was but this time he hadn't thrown up. Only fallen. However, there was a large cut on his face. He had slashed himself on his desk drawer on the way down and he looked like he was trying not to cry. I helped him up off of the floor and into the living room where his mom was waiting on skype. As soon as she saw him she gasped and as soon as he saw her he started to wail. He missed her. He missed her and I think he was literally homesick. We needed to go back. I started to worry at the thought of how he got through when I wasn't here.

I had grabbed a cold wash cloth and was dabbing at Sawyer's face to wipe the excess blood off of his face while he cried. All while talking to his mom. Asking her what we should do. She suggested coming home and inside I was overjoyed. I looked at Sawyer who nodded slowly. I put a large band-aid over the cut on his face and pulled him into me.

"We'll leave tomorrow then." I said.

His mom nodded, told us she loved us, then hung up.

Sawyer stretched out so that his head was on my lap and I started to play with his hair. I could feel him drifting off when suddenly I fell asleep too.