I Don't Need To Be Saved; Nathan Sykes & Taylor Momsen Fanfiction

9: A Touch

Where am I?

I stood for several minutes trying to make sense of the images around me.  In a moment of clarity I recognized Mark’s face and tried to walk over to him.  However, looking around me all I could see was the floor, and the legs of some chairs.  Laughing… so much laughing.  Who was laughing so much?

Everyone was looking at me.  I was the one laughing.  I couldn’t stop.

I continued in a hysterical fit for what seemed like an indefinite amount of time.  Suddenly, I felt water moving down my esophagus.  In another moment of clarity I realized I was no longer on the bus and that I was sitting up.

Must.  Lie.  Down.

My body was trying to fall towards the pillow, but it was restrained by some force.  Right before I blacked out, I believe I said, “Get me out of the castle; I don’t want to be locked up.”

* * * * *

I woke up to some sunlight peeking through a window, and realized I wasn’t in my own bed.  I sat up to look around me and felt extremely disoriented.  I was on the bus’ couch. Good, this means that I didn’t do anything too ridiculous. I hope.  I noticed that my throat was dry and that there was a strange taste in my mouth.  As someone climbed onto the bus their footsteps sounded like gunshots.  My stomach churned and I started dry heaving over the side of the couch.

“Thank God you’re alive.”

The voice was familiar, but I couldn’t quite place it.  Then the tone of the person’s voice changed.  “How’re you feeling, love?”  They kneeled down to eye level.

It was Nathan.

“Like shit, what do you think?!”  I didn’t have the energy to put force into my sentence and it came out sounding panicked.

His brow furrowed.  “I brought you some OJ.”

I grabbed the cup out of his hand.  “Can you go away now?”

Something in his face shifted.  “I just spent the whole bloody night making sure you didn’t die, and that’s all you’ve got to say to me?  At least I know why no one else wanted to help me.”

His words brought a sharp pain with them and I winced.  He muttered something under his breath and stood up, but I was able to grab his wrist quick enough before he could leave.  His words had hurt me, because he was right.  No one wanted to help him take care of me.

“I’m – sorry.”  The words alone required most of my mental energy but I didn’t know what else to say.

His expression softened.  “I’m sorry, too.”

It didn’t take me long to catch onto his meaning.  He felt sorry for me.

“Did you do it because you felt sorry for me?”  Word vomit.

He furrowed his brown again.  “Yeah, I do feel sorry for you.  That’s not why I did it, though.”

“Then why?  You don’t think I’m a huge bitch?”  I tried to laugh out the last part.

“Like I said, no one else would do it.”

Something about the way he said that made me feel that he wasn’t being completely truthful.  I guess he didn’t completely believe himself and after what I believe was a moment of contemplation he sighed.

I felt my eyelids getting heavier, and I let myself drift off to sleep.