Playing With Fire (Previously Burning The Bad Boy) (UNDER RECONSTRUCTION)

{25} If I Die Before I Wake

Ryder rushed in through the hospital doors at a quarter to midnight, eyes bloodshot and heavy with exhaustion.

"How's he doing?" he asked when he finally reached me.

I shook my head. "I don't know. The doctors haven't said anything yet. They had him in the ICU, but I think they moved him."

"What happened?" he questioned.

I looked away, not exactly sure how I was supposed to put what happened into words.

"He overdosed." I decided was the best answer.

"Shit." Ryder blinked in surprise. "Was he. . . you know. . . breathing when they took him in?"

I sighed. "I don't know, Ryder."

I tried to move away, but he caught my shoulder in his hand and tilted my head back with the other. His lips parted a little in surprise when he saw the blood trickling down my neck.

"You're bleeding." he stated the obvious.

"It's nothing. Just a cut." I waved it off quietly, hoping he'd drop the subject.

He spent the remainder of his time with me perched in one of the uncomfortable chairs, watching silently as I paced back and forth in front of him. I knew better than to call Rachel. It was likely she was up, but her parents would shoot her if they knew she was up so late. All I wanted to do right now was curl up in bed and tell her everything that happened. I knew I couldn't, but it was still one of the millions of thoughts ricocheting around in my head.

"Miss Thomas." the doctor made an appearance in the waiting room, eyes raking the nearly empty waiting room. I stood immediately, feeling Ryder at my tail.

"Is he okay?" I asked.

The doctor glanced down at the clipboard in his hands, as if it were his first time seeing Damon's chart. No sign of emotion broke through as he nodded and turned his attention back to me.

"He's stable. He's got a few fractured ribs, but the medication we'll prescribe will help. I do have to ask if you have any idea where he may have gotten so many drugs into his system?"

I stared blankly, trying my best to keep my face emotionless. "I don't have any idea, sir, I'm sorry. Can I see him?"

The doctor stared down at me skeptically, but didn't make any further moves to try and pry answers out of me. Instead he waved a nurse over and handed over Damon's chart.

"Follow me." she smiled sweetly, touching my shoulder. I spun and looked at Ryder, but he was already ushering me away.

"Go see the idiot." he demanded. I forced a weak smile, bowed my head, then allowed the petite red haired nurse to lead me down the long, dimly lit hallways and to Damon's room. She stopped me outside of the room, pulling a small band-aid from one of the many pockets on her uniform and took my chin in between her fingers.

"Nasty little cut you've got here, sweetie." she patted my shoulder after placing the bandage on it. "Be more cautious next time, both of you."

I thanked her softly, brushing passed her and into the room before I could talk myself out of it.

I'd seen Damon at his best and worse, in the spot he was now and swerving in and out of lanes on his motorcycle, living off the adrenaline. There was something about seeing him unconscious, hooked to a million different machines, that projected a vulnerability I knew was likely to never be seen again.