nurse; mgc

forty-six

hey hey hey im alive

should I start a luke fanfic after this???

also once again they're might be some nasties at the end of this chapter so if you aint about that life feel free to skip

but im sure you sinners will enjoy it other wise

Jasmine's POV

"Hey, baby," I smiled, walking into Michael's now regular hospital room. "Hi baby" he smiled, leaning into a quick peck. "How you doing?" I smiled leaning against his bed frame, "I'm absolutely fine, why the hell am I still here. It's been three damn days."

I just chucked throwing my backpack on one of the chairs - since I had just came from school. "You look really cute in that skirt," he twindled the plaid uniform and I shook my head, "I look like a prep."

"I think it's hot." He said and I giggled. "Graduation in a month! Can you believe it!" I said, beaming with excitement. "But something better is happening tomorrow" he sang.

"What?"

"Your birthday" he whispered to me and I just shook my head. "Oh no! I hate my birthdays! They always end up being terrible-"

"Oh, but babygirl, I'm gonna make this one great." He smiled, biting his lip and interlacing his fingers with mine. I swung our hands, "are you though?"

"I-"

"Get my son off those machines!" A farmilliar voice shot through the hospital corridors, I whipped my head around only to see Michael's dad arguing with another nurse, through the window. Michael just groaned. "Sir, sir - I need you to calm down and then we can assess the issues he-"

"No! Get him off that! He doesn't need any of this! He's just an attention seeking bitch, who wants his parents to come to the rescue and free him from his little black girlfriend!"

I could see Michael tense up but I just squeezed his hand. "Breathe, it doesn't matter" I hummed to him.

"Sir - are you aware that your son has been admitted to the hospital three times for self destructive behaviours, twice for suicide attempts, and has been abusing prescription painkillers since his accident?"

"You told them?" Michael mouthed to me and I shook my head, "I didn't say shit."

My eyes trailed down to Calum who sat slouched in his chair looking rather guilty. Michael just scoffed, "that bastard."

"Miss, you can't seem to wrap your little lady brain around the fact that all my son wants is attention! Get that damn IV out of his arm! And let him out of this hospital!-"

Michaels father began to storm towards the door to his room but the nurse jumped in front of him. "Sir, if you continue I'm going to have to ask you to leave. Mr. Clifford is in the middle of a visit, you can sit next to that lovely gentleman and wait your turn." She said calmly, gesturing over to Calum. "I'm his bloody father!" He roared back, a couple doctors began to turn around and approach the two. I guess he felt the eyes on him because the next move he made was insane. "That doesn't matter right n-"

In a minute the nurse was knocked out cold on the hard tiles. He swung at her. My mouth gaped wide open in disbelief, as the doctors rushed up behind him and grabbed either of his arms, pulling him to the ground.

••••

"Did he ever abuse you?" I asked. Michael was sitting up against my bed frame and I was lying next to him. Michaels dad inevitably got arrested and banned from the hospital, unless enduring a life threatening injury. And the nurses didn't hesitate to listen to Michael next time he asked to go home. They released him tonight, with just a link to an anxiety website and a psychologist he will be seeing twice a week for the next few years.

"Yes." He sighed, looking down at his hands. "He killed my baby sister. He hurt my mom and all I could do was watch until I was 13. That was the first time I had ever hit someone."

"What happened?" I asked softly. Michael wasn't responding to my touch and just stared straight into my window.

"He got really drunk, and my mom got tired of him, so she started yelling. And he grabbed a pot and started beating her. She fell to the ground and was cradling her head, thinking he was gonna hit her there next. But he dropped the pot, and grabbed a knife. Before he could even turn around I picked up the pot and hit him over the head. He fell and i hit him again, my mom stood up took the pot and hit him again and again, everywhere. I reached for the knife, but she shook her head we called the police and reported domestic violence, child abuse, threats, murder, and rape. They took his unconscious body, and took him in for 9 years, but he was let out for good behaviour. I saw my father again when I was 16, and my parents fell in love all over again."

"Do you regret.."

"Not killing him? Everyday of my life."

"But if you did you would've been locked up and you wouldn't have met me. Things happen for a reason." I gave him an apologetic smile, and he just leaned in and kissed me. I could feel him smiled underneath the kiss warming my soul all the way up. His hands wrapped themselves around my waist, pinning me down as he flipped us over. The kiss got deeper and deeper, he kissed all the way down my neck as he fiddled to the button of my jeans. He just smirked looking up back up at me, and glancing over to the clock.

11:57

"I don't break promises, baby."