You Won't Feel A Thing - (The Script Fanfic)

Chapter 26

It wasn't until I sat down in the passenger seat that I realised how tiring walking had been. I felt faint, so I leaned back into the seat, trying to get rid of the feeling. Glen started the engine, pulling his seatbelt on. I reached for mine and plugged it into the socket. I rested my head back, closing my eyes.

Images of flames and smoke were imprinted to the backs of my eyelids. It was as though the fire was playing out again, every time I closed my eyes. I forced them open, feeling breathless as a constricting fear gripped onto my chest. I saw Glen look over at me. I could feel his concern radiating off of him.

"Where did Dylan take you?" He asked, spitting out the name. I turned to look at him. His fingers were curled tightly around the steering wheel, as if pretending it was Dylan's neck.

"He put me in a van. A car drove into us. Dan and Selena set the scene on fire." Even as I said the last part, I didn't understand why. Selena had said to 'smoke Dylan out', but that didn't seem right. Nothing seemed to be making sense.

Even Glen looked at me with masses of confusion swirling in his aura. "How did Dylan manage to find you anyway?"

Something was blocking my throat. Every time I tried to tell him, my throat seemed to swell, making it hard to breathe. The words couldn't seem to pass through my lips. You can't tell him it was Danny. Only I really did want to. I didn't want to hide it, even if it meant Danny was dragged into an inferno of firey rage. Yet, I still couldn't pass his name through my lips. He saved you. You could have died. But then, I wouldn't have been in danger in the first place. You're over reacting.

"I'm still weak." I said, the words coming out easily, showing no signs of my enternal struggle. I didn't want to hide secrets, yet I couldn't tell him anyway. I blamed it on my weakness. I leaned over, holding my head in my hands. A burst of disorientation swallowed me whole. 

"We're nearly there." Glen reassured me whilst obviously speeding.

"If you crash, I'm going to kill you myself." I laughed slightly, but it caused more pain to my head and stomach. I pulled up the hem of my top to see that the wound was pratically open, blood taking its course out of my body. Honestly, I felt worse than crap.

Apparently red lights didn't apply to us as we raced past them, cars beeping their horns as we speeded past.

Luckily, it wasn't too long before Glen pulled up outside the A&E section of the hospital. I tried standing, but it didn't seem possible. I was getting increasingly worse. He slipped his arms underneath me, holding me up to his chest.

The blaring lights on the ceiling were blinding, so I covered my eyes to shield them from the light. I heard people conversing before I was carried through to another room, to which Glen placed me down onto an examination table. He was told to leave, which he did very reluctantly. I waved slightly at him as he walked out. He turned back around staring as the doors closed and I could no longer see him.

The doctors ended up doing head scans, which seemed to be fine. They used to glue to seal the wound (something to do with the positioning on my head? I guess I didn't really listen). My stomach they injected with local anaesthetic, then stitched it back up. I was told firmly not to do anything of great exertion again. I nodded. They prescribed me some medication, such as penicillin and pain killers before I was okay to leave.

I didn't realise how long I'd been until I saw Glen asleep in a chair in the waiting room. He looked so sweet and vulnerable there, even if he did look quite uncomfortable. His mouth was open slightly and his breathing was deep. I walked over and sat in the chair next to him. He awoke startled. He turned and saw me.

"Everything's okay?" He asked, his voice sounding drowsy.

"Everything's okay." I smiled at him. He smiled back.

"We should head back." He stood up, helping me stand up too. I made sure to move slowly so I didn't rip my stitches again - and it would be every intention of mine not to rip them. We walked back to the car, Glen holding my door open for me and then returning to the driver's seat, driving off at the legal speed this time.