home to you: a blackbear fanfiction

the blame

          It wasn't until  after I arrived at the hospital that I realized I looked a mess. I was a fraction of the girl Matthew once knew, tired and worn out, but I was here for him, and that had to mean something. I walked inside and up to a front desk where a graying woman in large glasses sat clicking a pen. She only barely looked up at me. "Can you tell me what room Matthew Musto is in please?" Following the routine questions in a monotone voice, she responded"What's your relationship to Mr. Musto?" "I'm his fiancé." It had been months since those words had come out of my mouth and they burned like liquor. I tried not to show any emotion as the woman tapped away on her computer. "He's in surgery right now but his room is 602." "Thank you," I mumbled, walking towards the elevator. I felt empty, so unaware of what was happening to Matt.

         When I got to the room I found TJ, huddled over a small bedside table. I tapped him on the shoulder lightly so I didn't scare him and he turned around to hug me. "They just took him back for surgery, I'm so glad you came." I forced a smile and sat in a stiff chair in the corner of the room. "So what happened exactly?" "We were in Salt Lake City for tour and he had a piercing pain in his stomach. We went to urgent care and they told us we needed to go to a hospital. He wanted to be home in LA so we caught the first flight here." "And do we know what's wrong with him?" TJ hung his head and took a seat next to me. 

          "Part of Matthew's pancreas has died off. He's developed pancreatitis because his body can't process the toxins he's putting in it with substance abuse. Basically, he's drinking himself to death." Upon those words, I was immediately in hysterics. This built up sadness I had about leaving Matt began to come out and I struggled to catch my breath as I cried. "This is my fault. He needed help, I knew he did and I left him." "No Ashton don't, it's not your fault it's his. It's not your job to watch out for my brother." "Yes it is! That's what we do, we look out for each other and I left him. Is he gonna be ok?" TJ was quiet for a few seconds before covering my hand with his. "Two our of every three people survive the surgery, but that doesn't automatically mean they will survive the condition. There will most likely be future surgeries, and in order to keep his pancreas working, he has to be completely sober." It felt like I had been shot. I had nothing to say, so I just sat there silently, allowing the tears to run down my cheeks. "I did this to him." In an attempt to distract me, TJ walked over to the table he was standing at when I first arrived. "These are all of the things Matt had on him. You can come look if you want"

          His clothes were folded neatly in a pile, with a variety of items scattered around them. There was a half empty mini bottle of Fireball, a black ziploc bag that I assumed had drugs in it, a pack of cigarettes, a lighter, his wallet, his phone, and his jewelry. He has several rings, his Rolex, and his chains. I recognized all of the chains except one and I took it from the pile. It was my engagement ring. TJ took it from my hands. "He uh...he wears the ring on a necklace. I guess he's hoping you'll want it back one day. I tried to get him to return it. I thought it would help with closure, but he won't do it. I'm sorry about that." He removed it from the pile of jewelry and tucked it under his clothes so I wouldn't have to see it. Again, I found myself with nothing to say. I was heartbroken and petrified and the only person who could make it better was in a life threatening surgery.

          TJ handed me a blanket and a pillow. "The surgery's gonna take awhile. We should both at least try to get some sleep." I nodded, situating myself in a chair. I waited until TJ was asleep to get back up and take off my sweatshirt, putting on Matthew's instead. It smelled like him, like Old Spice, booze, and cigarettes and it was comforting. I nuzzled my head against the hood and allowed my eyes to shut, still so upset  that I had let this happen, but hoping I would wake up to realize it was all a dream.