Help Me

Against His Wishes

Mikey

His eyes snapped open as he felt someone roughly shake his shoulder.
The drowsiness was still there, lingering beneath his eyelids. The cold began to seep back in now, and through his blurred vision he saw something move infront of his eyes.
They widened and his hand shot up to tightly grip the wrist, with a strength he thought had left him.

Vision still clouded, he had no idea who it was... He was so disorientated... And so so tired...

"Mikey no... Don't go to sleep! Open your eyes!" A voice spoke clearly, two hands holding his face.
He hadn't even realised that his eyes had closed again, and when he opened them he looked straight into Rye's eyes. Panic and shock covered his expression, his jaw tense and tight.
"Rye?" Mikey slurred, confusion spreading across his pale face.
"Yes, it's me... All the boys are here." He said, and Mikey groaned as a dull pain radiated from his waist, his eyes rolling upwards.
"I know Mikey, I know, but the ambulance is on its way... Jack's just called it..."
-"No... No ambulance... No hospital..." Mikey gasped, trying to sit up, but Another pair of hands gently pushed him back down.

"Michael Cobban... No arguments! You're getting in that ambulance when it arrives!" He looked to the side to see Andy, worried eyes staring hard at him, but he only focussed on the fact that he had tears in his eyes.

Mikey sighed, not putting up much of a fight. Something soft was placed under his head, and Rye placed his head gently on it.
He was more lucid now, a lot less confused.
He looked over Rye with his good eye, realising that he didn't have a shirt on. Then he realised that he must've given it up so he could rest Mikey's head on it.
"You're gonna get c-cold." Mikey stuttered, shivering.
Rye shushed him, running his hand through Mikey's hair in a gesture of comfort. "You're more important." He whispered quietly when Mikey turned his head, and he smiled weakly up at him.

Andy was to the side, holding Mikey's torn jumper to his waist, keeping it firmly in place. Mikey groaned, covering his face with an arm, hoping that none of them could see his eyes watering, and the pale complexion to his face. Something was gently laid over him, and Mikey peeked around from his arm to watch Jack cover him with his jumper.
"Thanks." Mikey murmered, closing his eyes, hating that he was crying again. He hated people seeing him cry.

"Ambulance shouldn't be long." Jack spoke, before crouching beside the three of them.
"Where's Brook?" He heard Andy ask quietly.
"Calling Blair... He needs to know what's happened." Jack answered, and Mikey sighed.

Great... More people to worry about him...

"Mikey?" Rye called, shaking his shoulder slightly.
"Mmm... I'm awake." He whispered, feeling the pressure build behind his eyes... Or was that his headache? He whimpered quietly, but of course Rye heard him.
"What is it?" He asked, and Mikey almost burst into tears at the concern. He didn't want anyone to worry.
"Head hurts."
"Okay... Anything else? What happened?" Rye asked, and Mikey felt him gently feel the back of his head. He winced. "Yep, your heads bleeding Mikey... You really need to stay awake mate, at least until the ambulance gets here." Rye continued, "Keep talking to me... What happened?" He prompted again. Mikey was silent for a few seconds, breathing deeply before he spoke. He couldn't afford to break down again. It was bad enough that he'd done it over the phone to Brook.

"Uuh, Rye... His side is bleeding quite a bit... There's so much blood..." Andy trailed off. Mikey looked down, now understanding what the spreading warmth had been. His blood soaked the ground beneath him.
"No wonder he wants to sleep." Rye murmered.
"Mikey, you're okay." He spoke louder, and Mikey nodded.

"He was following me... I tried to fight him off but..." Mikey abruptly cut himself off, breathing deeply. The pressure behind his eyes was unbearable, but he refused to lower it. He wasn't going to cry again.

Pathetic.

"He... He asked for my wallet... I gave it to him... He had a knife... I..." Mikey choked on a sob, not speaking for at least twenty seconds until he had got a hold of himself. He wasn't as cold anymore, but he was still shaking. Rye was gently rubbing up and down his arms, and Jack was helping Andy with his side.
"He asked for my phone... And I refused... He... I couldn't... I tried to fight... He pinned me down... I-I... I couldn't scream... He choked me... Rye, he-" Mikey broke off, breathing heavily, holding his arm firmly against his eyes. He wasn't going to cry.

"Mikey..." Rye trailed off. He felt a hand grip his tightly. "You're not on your own anymore." Mikey squeezed Rye's hand, conveying everything he couldn't say in the gesture.

Sirens wailed in the distance, getting closer and closer.
Footsteps approached. Mikey looked up suddenly, scaring Rye at his abrupt movement, before slumping back down in relief. Just Brook. No threat.
"Blair's bringing the car around... He wants Rye to ride in the ambulance, and the rest of us he'll drive. We'll meet you there." Brook said, calmly, too calmly.

Mikey still wasn't happy that he was being made to go to the hospital. Deep down he knew he was in a serious condition.

"What happened to your knee Mikey?" Jack suddenly asked, and at the question he felt it throb painfully. He felt it twitch, making him groan.
"He kicked it." He groaned through the wave of pain... Which kept getting longer, and even more painful.
Then Andy pushed hard. Mikey writhed silently, hating his body's reaction to the pain.

Pathetic.

Voices. The sirens. It all blurred into one, alongside the pain, and the cold, and the helplessness. His head burst into one colour, and Mikey didn't remember anything from that moment. He could feel people touching him all over, he was slurring, he moaned, he groaned, but he didn't cry. His limbs lay limp, arm falling from his face.

More voices. Frantic speaking. Shouting. The unmistakable sound of crying.

And then it all faded to black.