81

                                    

                                          
The hours before the doctor returned felt like an eternity. I'd always thought Mondays were a drag. I always thought classes dragged along at a snail's pace. I thought time moved slowly during the last few seconds of a winning game. But nothing had ever felt so painfully long like waiting to hear if Rose was okay.
When the man who looked to be in his forties finally appeared, his expression gave absolutely nothing away. "How is she?" I asked, leaping to my feet so I was standing in front of him. Dad raised to stand beside me and I saw a flicker of concern pass through the doctor's eyes before his professionalism returned.
"She's awake," he started and the relief flooded through every vein in my body. Every muscle unclenched a little and I breathed a little easier at that. She was awake. That was a good sign at least.
"She's suffered a moderate head injury. The external damage isn't a concern, she won't need stitches or anything and we're confident it'll heal pretty quick. What we're worried about is the blow to her head. She's awake and responsive, which is a good sign, but she doesn't remember what happened to her and seems very disoriented which suggests concussion. We're taking her now to get a computerised tomography scan to determine the extent of the injury so we'll know more when we get those results."
I stared at him, hearing the words but not really absorbing them. "Can we see her?" I asked him. I couldn't care less about his medical babbling. I wanted to know she was going to be okay and I wanted to see her. Anything else was just a waste of my time.
When the doctor shook his head, I felt sick. And then I felt really fucking murderous. "Family only," he said, eyes darting down to the clipboard of paperwork in his hands. Fucking coward couldn't even look me in the eye as he told I couldn't see my own damn girlfriend. 
I opened my mouth but dad cut me off. "She is family," he stated, a look in his eyes that dared the doctor to argue. 
He looked between the two of us for half a second, sizing us up. And then he obviously realised we were bigger than him, stronger than him, more powerful than him and a hell of a lot more motivated than he was because he offered a small nod. "I'll let you know when she's back from her scans."
Dad nodded in thanks and then tugged me back towards our seats. "That's good news," he said, his tone steady and sure. It made me relax a little more. "She's awake and responding and their confident she'll heal."
"But she doesn't remember what happened," I pointed out.
"She was knocked unconscious. She'll need some time to come to terms with what happened and where she is. She might remember but maybe doesn't feel comfortable confiding in the doctor. But she's okay, Matt. That's all that matters."
I nodded and relaxed a little into the seat. Mom squeezed my hand. She was okay. She was going to be okay. Everything was going to be okay. 
It was almost another hour before the man returned. This time, he lingered in the doorway, offered us a nod and then gestured to the door across the hall before darting away again. I rolled my eyes as I got to my feet. "We'll be here, Matty," my mom told me, a smile on her face that calmed my nerves.
I nodded in response, grateful that they were staying here. I wanted to be alone with Rose. Needed to kiss her. Needed to tell her that I would never, ever let her get hurt again. Needed to hold her hand, look her in the eye, and tell her that I'm completely and utterly in love with her. I needed that moment with her and I certainly didn't need my parents lurking behind me. 
I pushed the door open.
She was lay in the hospital bed, staring up at the ceiling. The breath was immediately knocked out of me. She'd always been small. It was so damn adorable how tiny she was, but right now, she looked too small, too fragile and vulnerable surrounded by various machines in that horrible hospital bed. It made me nauseous.