Dyed Hair Rock Show [Michael Clifford]

San Diego // Part 31

Shots Fired // Breathe Carolina

~

Dodging through cars and what not, still going at good 100-something mph, we got to San Diego in about an hour and a half, skidding into a space as close to the entrance as the lot got that we could park in.

We all shuffled out the car and ran into the emergency room lobby. Everyone was staring at us, wondering what the hell was SO wrong, and why we just stopped and stood there in the middle of everything.

I finally realized that I had to ask where he was. "Hemmings," I said, to the nurse staring at me and her computer.

"Oh, that one," she gave us a look of pity, "He's on the fifth floor, room-"

"Thank you!" I said, and started running off towards the elevator.

Calum grabbed my arm, "Take the stairs."

"To the fifth floor?" Michael said.

I pushed him in there and ran -literally, ran up stairs, who knew- up the stairs to the fifth floor and barged through the door. An old lady sitting outside on the chairs looked very startled, and I felt kind of bad.

Calum and I were ahead of Michael, who was not at all prepared for this, since he had just woken up. We dashed through the long hallway, looking back and forth through the other passages as we passed, until I finally saw Hazel on the left of a passage and turned towards her. She gave me a big hug.

"He's in there."

"Where's Ashton?"

"Bathroom."

I nodded. Ah. Okay. I walked to though the door, The door sheet said something I was afraid to look at, and partly felt like it wasn't me who should be looking at them, that they were for the doctor, and made my way towards the bed, scared to my bone every step.

He was not awake right now, his eyes closed and a mask over his nose. Face had a big bruise on the left, and his eye was swollen, and I could tell his hair was messed up, but Hazel probably fixed it. He also had a cut on his lip, and I didn't ask what was under the blanket. Whatever had happened, it wasn't looking pretty.

"What did you do, Luke?" I whispered to myself, looking at him. I noticed that his arm was in a sling, but they haven't been here more than 2 hours, so no x-rays or anything happened yet.

I walked out of the room, "What're they going to do? Where are the doctors, anyway?"

Hazel sat with her head down, in her hands, elbows on her knees. "I don't know, I'm really tired right now, I worked really late last night and had to clean and stayed up late. If I knew, I'd be on their asses."

I smirked, sitting down, "Yeah," a sigh, "What's the doctor's report?"

She shook her head, "No," a scoff, "No-- they didn't do one yet, just said 'Anesthetics' and 'looks swollen', and 'oh, we'll need to do this and that' and blah. Nothing." I sighed with her, and gave her a quick side hug.

Ashton came back from his long trip to the bathroom, and I guess the vending machine. "Well hello there." A smile.

"Can I have a chip?" I nodded toward the bag of Doritos in his hand. He held it out and I took one. "Were you-"

"No." He looked up from the chips. Before I could open my mouth and form words again, he started talking again. "He's not too good."

"Don't say that," Hazel said, head still down.

"What? Isn't it true?"

"Don't say that!"

I looked at Ashton, "Please, stop. She's not in the mood. Neither am I. Can we just get along for once?"

"Well, sure. But technically if you never came into our lives, this never would have happened. So it's your fault, all of this."

I looked at him, scarred. "You know what, You really know that it's been over two months.

I'm trying to help, I really am. You just keep making it so hard for us to help you get over it, and now Luke's here. We've all tried, and this is our final patronage. You've got to see that we care about you- God, this sounds so scripted. But it's true. Just listen to me."

"I'm sorry for being an asshole, Rachel, but I can't help it. You know what happened, you know what you did. And every time I see you and him, I can't stop myself. I tried. But I can't, not when you're here with him."

"Guys-" Hazel said, but we brushed off her comment.

"So are you saying I shouldn't be in your lives anymore?"

Ashton nodded. "Mine. I don't want you in my life."

"Okay," I said, understanding. "I will leave." I grabbed my bag and walked away, out to my car, on the freeway, turning up my music, leaving.