A Different Perspective, chapter 16

"Tell me she'll be okay.." Billie said, pacing back and forth, his emerald eyes clouded by the haze of tears he was holding back. "Please.. Please tell me she'll be okay.." He was pleading with the doctor for him to tell him the news he wanted to hear.

"She has a concussion," The doctor explained once more, trying to be as patient as he could be. "She could slip into a coma, which is why it's crucial for someone to be here with her-"

"I am. I'm going to be here with her," Billie said, shaking profusely. "Just, please.. Please tell me she'll be okay.."

"She has a good chance of living," The doctor replied, glancing at him momentarily, before leaving the room. The sound of the pacemaker spewing out her heartbeats were driving him mad, to the point of needing a cigarette to try and stop a panic attack he could feel rising in the pit of his stomach. But, he wouldn't leave her.. Never.

"I'm right here, baby," he said, his chin quivering as bitter tear drops rolled down his cheeks. It was his fault she was this way.. If only he hadn't of drank so much..

- - -

My head was throbbing as I rolled my neck slightly to lift my heavy head, my eyes slowly parting open. I could feel the IV in my veins, but everywhere else hurt too much for me to even begin to care. I squinted, trying to reduce the affect the brightness of the room was having on me, but it was no use and, anyway, my eyes were adjusting. I could feel someone's hand firmly holding mine as I looked over, trying to make out who it was.

"Billie?" My voice was weaker than I had expected, startling myself and Billie as he looked up, paper bag in hand. He'd had a panic attack - I'd caused him to have a panic attack. Shit, I thought. He could've been in serious trouble.. Billie scrambled up, his hand still entwined with mine as he leaned over and kissed my forehead, closing his eyes.

"Thank God you're okay," he said, letting out a sigh of relief as he looked down on me and hugged me. "I'm so sorry, Hayleigh.. I'm so sorry.."

"Shh.. Shh.." I said, stroking his back as he buried his head into my neck, muffling his cries. He looked so innocent then, like a scared child clinging for protection. "Billie, it's okay.. I'm okay, see?" I lied, trying to calm him down. He looked up at me, his face blotchy and his eyes red as I scooted over, biting my lip in pain, so he could cuddle next to me. He climbed behind me, wrapping his arm around me and resting his head on my own. It was killing me, but I just wanted him to calm down.

"I thought you were dead," his voice was barely a whisper as he choked on his tears again. I turned over slowly to face him, brushing away his tears and running my hand through his hair. He looked at my face, which was badly bruised and cut up and he let out another whimper. His finger lifted, shaky and slowly, to my temple where I was sure to have a scar and ran over it lightly, as if claiming it.

"Billie, it'll all be okay," I assured him and I think he might have believed me, even if only for that moment, and we laid there together as I reassuringly stroked his hair. I couldn't be mad at him even if I tried because, for some reason, I was okay with everything; it was if I had accepted that everything happens for a reason.

The doctor came to check up on me a little while later, surprised that I was, in fact, awake and not in a coma. With much bickering back and forth, he decided that I'd be able to leave in the morning since I hadn't any broken bones, just a some bruises and scratches. Billie opted for him to stay, but I shook my head, telling him it was best if he went back to the hotel and got some rest. Reluctantly, he finally gave in and grabbed a cab home while I attempted to try and get some sleep. It was so damn hard, though, with the pace maker beeping throughout the night. I mean, don't get me wrong, that's a good thing and all, but it was annoying as hell and all I wanted to do was go to sleep, forgetting the pain that had overwhelmed my small body. Sleep didn't come as easy as I wished though, and when I finally did doze off, it seemed daylight woke me right back up. I slowly stirred in my fighting to try and hold on to dreamland, but it was quickly fading faster and faster until I could no longer stand it.

"Are you sure she's not dead?" I heard a strangely familiar voice say and a jab to my side.

"That's not even funny, dude," I heard another voice hiss.

"No, what's not funny is you wrecking my fucking rental car. You're paying for that, I hope you know.."

"Mfhem.." I murmured, arousing from sleep as my eyelids slowly parted to reveal.. Tre's bulging face extremely close to mine. "Whoa.. Tre.."

"Hey, she's awake," Tre said, snapping his head backwards as he stood up straight - or as straight as Tre Cool could possibly stand.

"Yeah.. What are you all doing here?" I asked, slowly sitting up as I bit my bottom lip in pain.

"We came to see you, of course!" Tre bounced, hugging me tightly.

"Oww, Tre man, no.." I said and he released, giving me a solemn look. "I ache all over."

"I'm sorry," Tre mumbled. "You wouldn't if someone hadn't taken my rental car, drunk.." Billie shot him a hateful glare from the chair next to me.

"Like I don't feel bad enough," Billie spat and I gently squeezed his hand that had found its way into my own. I didn't want them to argue about this, if anything I wanted two vicodin and silence. Billie shot Tre another look before his gaze drifted down onto my own and he mouthed a 'Sorry, ' to me.

"Yeah, well you should feel bad, asshole. You rammed your girlfriend through the goddamn windshield." Tre wasn't letting up and, truthfully, it was giving me a headache.

"Tre, really, it's okay.." I muttered, trying to avoid looking at the IV that was still planted in my arm. Fuck. It hurt.

"No, it's not okay. Billie, you're an alcoholic.. You should like be going to AA meetings and I'm not even being funny," Tre said, and I could see Billie's anger rising. Dammit, Tre, I thought, rubbing my head.

"Oh you're one to talk. You go out and get drunk every weekend," Billie snapped back and Tre was about to say something until they heard him.

"Okay, you're all signed out.." Mike's voice echoed into the room as he came round the corner, holding paperwork in his hand. Both Billie and Tre's head snapped to the side to face Mike, now quiet.

"Thanks?" I asked, blinking.

"You're welcome," Mike said, flashing a quick smile before he handed the papers to Billie. "When we get back to the Bay Area, you have to get checked in again to make sure things are still going smooth."

"Thanks Mike," Billie said and Mike nodded to him.

"No problem, Bill. It's what friends do."


The flight back to California, which we got on as soon as we left the hospital, was a quiet one. Tre and his normally rowdy self kept content in the corner, reading some magazine, Mike was asleep and Billie said nothing. It was awkward and out of place, something I didn't like.

"Billie," I said, my voice wavering a bit. "Are you upset with me or something?" He turned his head to look at me and blinked.

"What? No, God no.." Billie said, shaking his head. "Why would you think that?"

"Because you aren't talking to me."

"Oh." His infamous little 'Oh. ' How I'd come to loathe that word. "I thought you wanted to get some rest, so I didn't want to bug you," he said, shrugging slightly.

"Billie, I know you would never intentionally do something to hurt me," I said, and his gaze lowered to look down at his feet, submissively. "Sometimes we do some stupid shit. Just.. Think of this as a wake up call - a warning if you will because if you ever, ever get that wasted again, you won't find me sitting next to you. I'll be gone, baby, whether that means being underground or moved back in with Jess." He nodded slowly and I leaned over, kissing him on his cheek. He turned to face me, and squinted, looking for what was rightfully his to claim. He found it, that scar on my temple and his hand moved into my own and that's how it stayed the rest of the flight.

When our plane landed, Billie helped me with my bags, carrying both mine and his own. He had insisted, through my protests, and I reluctantly had given in.

"I really can handle my own bags.." I said, watching as Billie struggled to get a grip on everything.

"No.. No, I have them.." He said, trying to balance things on top of one another.

"You're going to fall. Just let me help," I said and he shook his head, taking a few steps forward.

"No, I'm fine.." Billie said as Mike and Tre watched him, laughing. One of my bags started to fall and I leaned forward, catching it. Billie snatched it from me and put it back on top. "I will not be defeated by inanimate objects.." It was like that the whole way to the car, Billie dropping bags and me catching them until we finally made it to the trunk.

"Thank the friggin lord," I said, sighing in relief as he popped open the trunk and got the bags adjusted inside. I walked around side of the car, getting inside and waving bye to Mike and Tre, who got into Mike's BMW, when Billie finally came in, huffing and puffing. "You're getting old, there." He gave me a look, starting up the car.

"Ha ha, very funny.." He muttered, bitterly.

"I thought it was," I said, an amused grin spreading across my face. "You know, everything aside, New York wasn't as great as I had expected."

"Yeah. I'm just happy to be home," Billie said, and he lit up a cigarette, taking a long drag of it before letting it hang out the window.

"And just think, we have to head out to my sister's tomorrow," I muttered. "Won't that be fun."

Billie looked over at me, a bit wide eyed as his eyes glazed over my bruised body. "Oh.. Shit."
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