Dan's POV

"C'mon! I had to get at least one hit in!" James shouts as I lie on the ground, my eyes squeezed shut. "The fucking bastard deserved it."

"Come on, James, or I swear to god, I will kill you," Jack snaps, and thunderous footsteps fade away from me.

Someone squats down next to my face, and I squint my eyes open to see Macy looking down at me. "Oh, thank god, you're not out," she sighs.

"He's done a lot worse," I grumble, sitting up. I finally glance at (y/n), and instantly am overcome by a wave of nausea. She lies on her stomach, face against the carpet. Swollen bruises already cover a large sum of her skin, and I can't help but worry about what kind of internal damage she has.

"This might not sound like a good thing, but he's also done a lot worse to her," Macy's voice brings me back to reality, and I look up at her. "I've never met anyone as strong as her, and I know she'll be okay."

After a moment of silence, I clear my throat. "Um, should we, like, take her to the hospital?" I ask, scratching the back of my neck.

Macy grimaces slightly, and I can't help but think it might have something to do with the fact that (y/n) despises hospitals. "I mean, she has a lot of, um, drugs in her system," she replies timidly.

"Yeah, but hospitals can't, like, go to the cops or anything," I answer.

Macy gives me a questioning look, before nodding her head. "Then, uh, yeah, a hospital sounds good."

Luckily Macy has a car, and I carry (y/n)'s frail frame down the stairs and into the backseat, lying her down. It's weird how calmly I'm taking this right now, but it's probably just the fact that reality hasn't completely hit me yet. As Macy drives to the hospital, I zone out, trying to grasp the events of the last two hours.

It doesn't hit me when we get to the hospital, nor when I carry her into the waiting room. I still feel numb as I watch the nurses roll her away in a stretcher, and as Macy and I sit in the waiting room. When Macy asks me if I want a coffee, I still feel as if nothing had happened.

Macy comes back from the cafeteria, handing me an iced coffee. As I take a sip from the straw, my phone vibrates in my pocket, and I read a text from Phil.

Phil
Where are you?? Are you and (y/n) okay?

Dan
We're at the hospital. James happened

Phil
Oh my god. Dodie and I will be there soon

Dan
You don't need to come, idek what's wrong

Phil
I don't care, Dodie and I are already leaving the apartment

I sigh heavily, leaning back in the chair and resting my eyes. However, I instantly remember Macy's sitting next to me, and I have about a million questions to ask her.

"So...what exactly happened?" I ask. I had been partially worried she would have some sort of negative reaction, but it seemed like she had been expecting it. Sighing, she sits up, and turns to face me.

"Um...James, James basically thought (y/n) was sneaking around behind his back, even though she literally hasn't left my house in weeks, and he...he decided he had to put her in her place."

The words make me shudder, and I close my eyes, taking deep breaths to calm myself down. As I do so, Macy continues talking.

"You know, (y/n) really loves you," she whispers, staring at some point ahead of her. "And I think that's what she's most afraid of."

I look at Macy, my eyes narrowing in confusion. "What, she's afraid of love?"

"Well, that, too," Macy replies, nodding her head. "But I think what she's most afraid of is you starting to see her the way she sees herself."

I give a sort of snort, and she gives me a weird look. "Sorry, it's just...I just, I think my biggest fear is she'll never see herself the way I see her. The fact that she somehow can't understand why in the world I love her, is probably my least favorite thing."

Macy nods in understanding. "Yeah, she's struggled with that her entire life. For some reason, she doesn't seem to be able to grasp the fact that she's actually fucking amazing."

"Yeah, exactly," I instantly agree, and Macy gives me a small smile.

After a moments hesitance, she says, "I am so glad she found you. You are probably the best thing in her life right now."

I look down at my hands, nerves forming in my chest. "I'm just worried about messing it up," I breathe, not really meaning for her to hear me. However, she only laughs.

"Trust me, if you're actually worried about that, it just proves that you're good enough that you're not going to," she replies, and the knot in my chest loosens just a bit.

Suddenly, the waiting room door flies open, and I immediately stand up as Dodie and Phil storm in. Dodie immediately jumps into my arms, Phil joining in, the three of us in a group hug.

"What happened to your face?" She immediately asks as she and Phil pull away, lightly brushing her fingers against my cheekbone.

I clear my throat awkwardly. "Um, James," I breathe, and both her and Phil nod in understanding.

Macy stands up, joining our circle, and to my surprise, Dodie immediately wraps her arms around her. Macy stiffens for a second, before loosening up, and hugging her back.

"Thank you so much for protecting her," Dodie says as she lets go of Macy, and Macy nods her head.

"Of course, she's my best friend."

I had partly expected Dodie to be weird about that, but considering she's not the jealous type, she only gives a grateful smile. However, Phil and I both flinch as the two of them both immediately start crying, and hugging again. Phil and I exchange an awkward look, before realizing this is probably just one of those things we'll never understand.

The four of us sit anxiously, not exactly sure of what we're waiting for, for what seems like days. After at least an hour, a nurse finally comes into the waiting room, and the four of us stand up.

"You four the family of (y/f/n)?" He asks in a gruff voice.

Luckily, Macy doesn't even hesitate to speak up. "Yes, we are. Is she alright?" She asks hurriedly.

The nurse sighs heavily, and my heart begins to rise as he hastily flips through his clipboard. "Um, she has a concussion, sprained ankle, and blunt abdominal trauma. Aside from those, she has a few minor bruises and cuts, which may ache for a few days, but are rather superficial."

"Can we see her? Is she awake?" I quickly ask. The nurse chuckles slightly, before nodding his head.

"Yes, she's awake, and yes, you can see her. Follow me." He leads us through a door and down a hallway, and as I suddenly get a familiar feeling of anxiety and nausea, I'm staring to realize why (y/n) hates hospitals. The more often you go to them, the more repulsive they become.

We're led through a maze of hallways, before finally coming to a room. He opens the door, letting us walk into the room.

(Y/n) lies on the bed, her back raised, but her eyes squeezed shut. A tray of untouched food sits next to her, and as I look closer at her frame, I suddenly have the urge to shove the food down her throat. Her eyes and cheeks are sunken, her skin has a waxy paleness to it, and even with the thin sheet covering her body, she looks completely emaciated.

Dodie, Phil, and I hesitate in the doorway, but Macy wastes no time, rushing to (y/n)'s side and grabbing her hand. With bated breath, I watch (y/n)'s eyes slowly flicker open, and my heart sinks. The light in them has completely gone out, and all I see is a dull emptiness.

Her eyes slowly turn to mine, and pressure instantly builds behind my own. I open my mouth, about to say the first words I've said to her in weeks, when I'm interrupted. A doctor rushes into the room, standing in between (y/n) and I.

"Um, are you the...family of (y/n)?" She asks, with a rather condescending tone. The four of us nod our heads, and she continues flipping through a clipboard.

"After a few more tests we've done, we thought it would be important to mention that not only did she have marijuana in her system, she is also incredibly malnourished. Due to the malnourishment, it will most likely take longer for her to recover, and she might even need physical therapy."

Even though that was kind of a given, it still hits me hard, as I realize this is going to take a lot longer to get over than I have really comprehended until now.

Everything hits me like a pile of bricks. As my vision blurs, someone grabs my arm, keeping me steady. I sit back in a chair, closing my eyes and attempting to gather my thoughts.

Macy's POV

I look at (y/n)'s frail body, and into her sunken eyes, only now realizing how hurt she really is. Not only physically, but emotionally, as her eyes glaze over and she falls into her own little world.

"Okay, thank you," I say to the doctor, hoping she sees this as her cue to leave. Luckily, she must understand we're all rather sensitive right now, and walks out of the room.

I look down at (y/n), and a tear rolls down her cheeks as she makes eye contact with me. "I'm...I'm sorry," she breathes, her voice quivering. "I didn't mean for this to happen."

My eyes glaze over, and I have to close them for a second, just to keep myself from crying. "It's okay, (y/n). You're okay, now. Everything is going to be okay."

Your POV

I attempt to move my arms so I can wipe the tears from my face, only to realize the slightest amount of movement shoots pain throughout my entire body, and the crying only becomes stronger. I squeeze my eyes shut, waiting for myself to either wake up from this stupid nightmare, or fall asleep so I can escape real life.

"(Y/n)?" Macy breathes, and I open my eyes to look at her. "I know you really don't want to, but it's really important for you to eat, right now."

I sigh, my breath quivering, and looking at the food on the tray next to me. I know I want to eat, but every fucked up part of my disordered mind is telling me no, I don't need food, I don't deserve food.

"At least just a little bit," Macy pleads, only making me feel worse. "You just need something in your stomach."

I look down at the tray, which holds a ham and cheese sandwich, along with a bag of chips. Sitting up, I grab a half of the slice, taking a deep breath, and take a bite, tears streaming down my cheeks.

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I went to the hospital because I was at one of the lowest points of my life, and it only made it worse. I'm on meds that make me tired all the time to the point that I can barely walk from class to class and I throw up nearly everything I eat, and I'm expected to do 12 weeks of school work in only two weeks. I'm stressed and I want to die, and writing is my only therapy, so don't be surprised if I start posting a lot more often. Thank you all for the support, it means the world to me. I'll see you all later💜