Obvious

Disaster of a Family

***Jack's POV***

The day things really went downhill it was a beautiful day. Really, it was. I know that sounds cliche as hell, but that's really how it was. It was warm and sunny, like autumn's last hurrah before everything faded with winter. Nate and I were upstairs, trying to get some homework done. That wasn't going so well. I was too busy trying to distract Nate with little kisses here and there. God, he tasted so good.

My hand was just inching towards Nate's chest when a scream startled us apart. I don't think I had moved faster in my life. We raced down the stairs and into the kitchen where we found Nate's mother lying on the floor.

"Call 911," she said, holding her side. Nate was crying the whole time it took for me to call them.

"Mom, mom! Momma!" Her eyes closed and she went limp in Nate's arms. Thankfully she was still breathing. It felt like a lifetime that it took for the ambulance to get there. They worked quickly, and I pulled Nate back as they laid her on a stretcher. He turned and sobbed into my chest, and I just held him. I had no idea what to do.

I drove us to the hospital, Nate silently sitting in the passenger seat. He had called his dad, who was supposed to meet us there. I stopped him before he got out, gently laying a hand on his shoulder.

"Nate, I just want you to remember that I am here for you. Anything you need."

Nate just shrugged. I followed him out and into the place that reeked of cleaning solution. It's not that I didn't like hospitals. It was a dream of mine to be a doctor. I felt no joy, though, when we walked through those sliding hospital doors. How could I be happy when the person that I was falling in love with was dying on the inside?

Nate politely asked for directions to where we were supposed to go, and as we walked down the hallway, I grabbed Nate's hand. When we got to the waiting room, we found his father sitting there. He tried to give us a strained smile, but his eyes were being overrun by tears.

So we sat patiently. There was nothing else we could really do. The doctor had come out once just to say that she was going into surgery, and it might be a few hours before they would know if she was to survived. To pass the time, I tried talking to Nate, but he ignored me. I got the feeling that Nate didn't even want me here. I went to grab his hand and that was when he snapped. Nate stood up, glaring at me. If looks could kill...

"Why do you have to be so goddamn annoying?!"

I looked at Nate as if he had sprouted three heads. This seemed to upset him even more. I couldn't look to Nate's father for help because he had left shortly to go get something to eat.

"Nate, calm down. What's the matter?"

"You're what's the matter. You have to always keep saying everything's okay when it's really not. You're always so calm and patient and saying 'everything will be okay'. It's not going to be okay!"

I held out my hand to comfort him, but Nate slapped it away. "I'm sick and tired of you! Why can't you just leave me alone!"

"I can leave if you want me to," I said calmly, and Nate growled at me. "I hate you! I don't want to be with you anymore! Leave me alone!" I tried to hug him, but he ended up punching me in the face. I reeled back and stared at him incredulously, holding my hand to my nose in case it started bleeding.

"I hate you," he said quietly. "I hate that you keep reminding me that I can't do anything. I hate that you keep reminding me that everything's gonna be okay, but you really don't know. You don't know anything!"

The usually calm Nate suddenly launched himself at me, punching and scratching and screaming at me. It took three nurses and his father to get him off of me. Mr. Manson turned to me with a grim face.