A New Kind Of Love//Book 2

Chapter Twenty-one: Quiet Crying

May 17th, 1994

Michael's POV

My head pounded with pain, like my brain was going to combust. I serenely groaned, letting my eyes flutter open. The light momentarily blinded me, I let my eyes focus, revealing the world around me.

I stared at the ceiling, it was white and tiled, spotted with grey specks. Then, my eyes dropped it my stomach as I realized the baby bump was gone, it confused me for a second until all the memories flooded back. Almost loosing or loosing Francis, I panicked, I didn't know what happened to our son.

I was snapped out of my hysteria by quiet weeping. It was soft and muffled, I turned my head to find the noise, it was coming from Prince. He hung his head in his hands, his body was racked with sobs, his shoulders shook as he let out a shaky sigh.

"Prince...?" I croaked, my voice raw and scratchy from yelling and sobbing.

His head shot up, eyes filled with a relief, "Michael! Oh my god!" He cried, throwing himself upon me, wrapping his arms around my neck tightly, "they said you wouldn't make it!" I didn't care, I just wanted to know what happened to Francis.

I dug my nails into his silky pajama shirt, taking the hug, "where's Francis? What happened?" I buried my head in the crook of his neck.

He didn't acknowledge my question, he just continued to dissolve in tears, his hole body shaking with grief. "You lost so much blood, they thought you were going to die." He whimpered into my ear, sending prickly shivers down my spine.

My eyes traveled to the long tube hooked up my arm, it was an IV filled with red fluid, blood. Seconds later Prince mentioned our little boy, making my eyes burn with tears, though they wouldn't fall. "And Francis almost choked to death, I don't know how well he's doing."

I ran my hand through his messy, midnight hair, it soothed me, "did-did you s-see him?" My voice had a slight tilt to it, since I was so utterly exhausted.

"N-no," his cocoa colored eyes stared back at me, bloodshot and puffy and covered in tears, "oh god Michael you looked so pale and lifeless- I didn't know what to do."

I muttered a small oh; he sat down on a small plastic chair, leaning back and resting his head on the floral wall. I glanced down at my now flat stomach, looking at it was going to take some getting used to. I poked it it, enraged by it, it was pudgy, I sighed. I felt weirdly empty.

It was eerily silent in the small, wallpaper covered room, the clock on the wall ticked by and people muttered things in the hallway. I could hear women screaming in the other rooms, they were giving birth, and I prayed that their babies would be healthy, unlike mine.

"I called your family and mine." Prince spoke, voice dim and quiet. "Okay." I mumbled, inching my IV infested hand to his, linking them together.

Prince started weeping again, his face reddening up, becoming blotchy. I couldn't cry, I only felt empty, even with Prince in the room I still felt empty. I didn't know what to do, so, I gently held his hand.

"I'm sorry." I whispered, pulling him closer to me. "Don't be sorry, it's not your fault." Prince's voice cracked with sorrow.

A mixture of sadness and anger filled my chest, making it constrict, "Yes it is! I did something wrong!" He looked at me, a deep sadness residing in his eyes, "Michael-"

A doctor walked into the room, swinging the door open with a little creak, she held a clipboard in her steady hands. "You're up, that's good." She gave me a weak smile, I just stared.