Years Without You - Cashton

Luke

 

Luke's P.O.V.

After spending three months in a hospital/rehab center one would most likely have an extreme dislike of going anywhere near another. So as I approached the automatic doors to hell, my long strides faded and I was divided by anger and fear.

I didn't want to go anywhere near the busy London hospital, but when you just found your best friend bleeding out beside his dead boyfriend's grave in negative temperatures, it's a must.

My long legs sped up, and in a few strides I caught up with the rushing paramedics, following in their footsteps until a short nurse told me I couldn't go any further.

"Sorry love, but it's mandatory you stay in the waiting area," The nurse showed me to a more private waiting room whilst doctors and nurses rushed around us, heading to unknown places. "Just come over the nurse's station if you need anything."

She smiled and went back to doing whatever nurses do behind her tiny desk, tapping away at a computer.

I must've sat in the desolate waiting room for an hour, just staring at the blood that stained my clothes and covered my hands, and thinking over and over, "Calum is going to die."

I pulled out the letter I had received less than 48 hours ago, my eyes skipping over the words as I reread it. The letter shouldn't have arrived so early, but I guess by some fluke in the postal system I recieved the letter days earlier than I should've.

I wonder if Michael got one.

Michael.

Oh god, I forgot to tell Michael. He's probably angry I didn't show up Christmas Eve for his family's party and wants to kill me.

My parents don't even know I left, they've probably called me a multitude of times.

I pulled my phone out of my pocket, and instantly winced.

89 missed calls

124 unread texts

Shit.

My fingers moved rapidly as I typed up Mikey's number and pressed the call button.

He picked up in six seconds.

"Luke, where are you, we're terrified, I swear your parents were about to put out a missing persons report and I-"

"Michael."

"-it's okay if you did drugs or something I still love you Luke-"

"Michael, Calum attempted suicide," My voice cracked as I spoke, the realization of it hit me at last.

"-you'll always be my Lukey-" The line suddenly was dead silent, Michael was quiet and no worried parents were squabbling in the background. "Luke, y-you're joking, Calum's fine, he just sent me a text four hours ago saying Merry Christmas and I love you."

"Well an hour ago I just found him with slit wrists lying next to Ashton's grave, so you're a little behind on the Calum part of the world." My hands shook worse than when I came out to my parents as I reencountered the images of Calum surrounded in his blood, his pale blue colored lips barely moving.

A sob, or something that sounded close to that, came from the other end of the phone call. "Is he going to be okay?"

"Mikey, I don't know. There was so much blood, and-God, it's all over me Michael."

"Luke, I'm going to fly out there as soon as possible, keep us updated okay?" Michael sounded like his heart had just been broken, and from the sounds of sobs that came from his end, it probably was.