Page 28 of Proof Of Life

I can feel the pain in my head before I can see, and I choke on bitter vomit as I struggle to take a breath. My chest burns like fire. My head throbs like I have a migraine. And some piece of shit is pressing on my stomach like he’s trying to squeeze the life out of me all over again.

“Mother…Fucker…” he pants as he squishes my intestines. “I’ll fucking…kill you…myself.”

Must be Brandt, ‘cause I’ve heard that threat before.

And then he’s gone, replaced by medical staff that whisks me away on a stretcher. Again, with the wires and the tubes. Again, with the bright lights shining in my sensitive eyes. They swarm around me like ants, shouting orders, rattling off my stats and vitals. They save my life. Again.

I’ll never forgive him for this.

When the hustle and bustle dies down and my vitals are steady, the staff empties out one-by-one, leaving me alone with my savior.

I’m afraid to be alone with him, because of what I might say, afraid of what he might say. I never expected to have to face the consequences of my actions. The anger on his face doesn’t scare me, it’s the hurt in his eyes. The stark, naked fear that he can’t hide.

I’ll add it to the list of things I can’t forgive myself for.

He’s holding up the wall across the room, and I’m sure there’s a reason he won’t come near me. Maybe it’s for the best. If he gets his hands on me, he’ll probably put them around my throat.

“Brandt–”

“Three times,” he hisses, his nostrils flaring as he seethes. “Three times now you’ve tried to leave. Tried to leave me!” His voice becomes increasingly louder.

“Get the fuck out of here. I wasn’t trying to leave you, asshole. I was trying to leave this world.” I roll my head away from him toward the ceiling so I don’t have to see the anger on his face any longer. “My head is fucked. It’s not about you. Why do you have to see it that way? This isn’t personal.”

Brandt comes closer, and he crouches down beside my bed so we’re eye to eye, so I have to look at him.

“Do you think you’re the only one? The only one of us with thoughts like that? I don’t know how many times I’ve thought about it.”

He sounds so intense, like he needs me to believe every word. And I do. He may not wear his pain and misery on his sleeve like I do, but I know he’s torn up inside.

“But you’ve never attempted it.” I could almost hate him for being so much stronger than me.

“Nope.”

“Why not?” My throat is raw and my voice sounds like a frog croaking.

“I couldn’t save them. But I can save you.” The resolve in his eyes is stronger than his will, stronger than steel.

And I’m angry again in a flash, my face heating with the intensity of it. “Can’t you understand? I don’t want you to save me! I’m not your fucking mission!”

“I know that,” he states calmly. “You’re my reason for living. I can’t help but think tomorrow might be a little bit better than today.” Brandt clasps my hand, ignoring the IV running through my vein. “Even if it’s not. But if it is? There’s nobody else I’d rather face the day with than you.”

There’s so much he isn’t saying, so much he’s holding back, but I don’t need to hear it because I can feel it; in the way he squeezes my hand so tightly and in the way his tourmaline eyes bore into mine.

“You’re hurting. You’re in pain. You’re scared.” His warm lips brush across the back of my hand and he squeezes his eyes shut. Most likely to stop the flood of tears I know are threatening to spill. “And you feel all alone, even though I’m right here.” He blinks his eyes open and focuses on my face. “It’s grief, and it’s to be expected after what we went through. There’s no right or wrong way to grieve, and there’s no time limit on it.” It hurts to swallow, but I manage to do it twice.

“It comes and goes in waves and stages. And you have every right to feel all of it, whether you want to or not. But I promise you two things,” he whispers fiercely. “One, this is temporary; it’s not going to last forever. And two, I promise you, Wes, you are not alone. I’m not going anywhere.” His voice is husky and warbled with emotion. “You can snap at me, bite my head off, or you can hit me, but I’m not leaving you alone in the darkness that’s trying to swallow you.”

He loses his battle with his tears, and they run down his cheeks and soak into his already soaked shirt. Because he jumped in to save me.

“I won’t let it have you,” he cries brokenly, and I want to die all over again for the pain I’ve caused him. “Lean on me. Take from me. My strength, my conviction, my hope, and my love.” He clutches my hand to his stubbled cheek and squeezes. “Take all my love and let it fill up all your broken, empty places.”

“Brandt–” I don’t even know what I want to say, I just need him to know I hear him. The beeping machines are a somber reminder of the severity of the situation. He brings his forehead to mine, and I close my eyes with relief, needing the warmth of his touch. I need him to pour all that love he has for me into my empty chest so it can heal me.

“I know you feel lost. But I swear I’ve got you, and I’m going to hold on to you so tight.” He clutches the back of my head, his fingers almost pulling on my hair. “So fucking tight,” he whispers. “I’m not gonna let go until you’re strong enough to stand on your own again. However long that takes.” Brandt pulls back so he can look into my eyes. He’s ravaged by his grief; grief that I caused him. Why do we hurt the ones we love most? “I will hold you up and be your pillar,” he vows.

All I want is to take away his pain and make him stop hurting. “Three legs. You can’t fall with three legs.”

“No, you fucking can’t.” He presses a kiss on the back of my hand.

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