Cognizant (Adopted By Alex Gaskarth: Book 2)✅

Chapter 3

Adelpha Gaskarth's POV:

I heard beeping.

I couldn't move.

There was a heavy weight on my chest.

There was a voice speaking. It was soft and filled with tears. I could smell the person's cologne, one I had grown to find comforting as their natural scent.

Dad.

Several minutes of hardly even being able to think passed until my eyes burned with white light that shone through. They teared up as I forced my eyes open, blinking numerous times. The weight on my chest began to lift slightly, but I still found it a little hard to breathe.

I looked to my left. An IV and cardiac monitor. I was in a hospital. I was on a white bed with a white blanket over my lower body. Bandages covered my hands and arms on both sides.

I looked to my right. A man with dark brown hair sat next to the bed with his head hanging down, tears still fresh in his eyes.

"D-Dad," I cracked out as best as I could to get his attention. He looked up at me with the saddest expression I have ever seen Alexander William Gaskarth make, until he looked into my eyes and gave me the widest grin ever.

"Ad," he whispered tearfully. "You're okay."

Well, I wanted to say, I wouldn't say 'okay' is the best term, but yes.

I simply smiled in response to him as tears began falling from his eyes again.

"Don't cry. I'm not dead, you don't have to cry anymore," I told him, my voice not physically able to reach above a whisper. I didn't like seeing him cry like this. He shouldn't be upset because of me.

Alex smiled and chuckled, wiping away the tears. "That's why I'm crying. I didn't think I'd ever see you again. They said you were dead." He took my right hand in his two calloused warm ones, rubbing his thumb over my bandaged knuckles. My exposed fingers wiggled around slowly in experimentation, locking in with his. "I even had the death certificate."

I recalled what happened. "I did," I replied softly. "Clinically, I did. But they thought it would be best not to tell anyone I was alive because of... because of my mother."

Alex inhaled deeply and swallowed. "So what happened?" His voice cracked.

"I-I did die.. Clinically, yeah, I died because my l-lung collapsed when I was shot... I stayed in the hospital for a week to get better, and they were going to tell you what happened, but keep it on the low until they knew everyone was safe. But... But then there was a fire at the hospital. I... I g-got out, but I didn't know what t-to do. I couldn't call anybody, nobody answered. Nobody believed who I was, my hands were too burned to get good fingerprints, a-a-and I didn't have an ID, and I was all the way across the country, and I-I did-didn't know what to do, so I just tried ma-making my w-way up h-h-here, and Oh, God, I j-just, I didn't kn-know what to d-d-do," My stuttering became worse as I rambled.

"Sh, Sh, hey, it's okay," Alex hushed me, trying to help me to calm down as I began crying again. "I'm sorry I didn't answer, I got a new number." He sat up on the bed with me, pressing his warm hand to my face.

"It's not your fault," I whispered.

Alex stared at me, and I could see him going into protective-dad-mode as he examined me. "What happened to you this past year?"

I looked away from him, staring down. I swallowed hard and avoided his eyes.

I didn't want him to have to worry about the hitchhiking, or abuse, or panic attacks, or being stolen from, or the self-harm.  He shouldn't have to worry about me.