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We're sitting quietly in the waiting room of the hospital. None of us says anything at first, the sound of the different machines and calls of doctors being the only thing filling up the silence around us. Nick is somewhere where the venting machines are. Michael, although not wanting to leave my side, said he needed to call his mum. I have no idea where Lucas and Becky are off to and honestly, I couldn’t care less. I feel like I don't care about anything, like I won't ever care about anything ever again.
I can feel how tense Charlie is by my side. How careful he is about moving around me, as if I might just break if he breathes the wrong way. I know, because it’s exactly how I felt when he was the one in a mental hospital. He stares at me, really stares at me, as if seeing me for the first time in a while... If I wasn't feeling so numb, I would find this quite funny. How the tables have turned. That's sad. I didn't ever mean to make Charlie look at me like this. It's unnatural.
I'm looking ahead -- to the white, lifeless wall in front of me. I think I might be in some sort of shock because I don't feel anything. I don't think of anything. My mind is blank and unmoving. I don't think I am here. I don't exist. I don't even exist. I didn't ever exist.
"Victoria...?" Charlie's small, vulnerable voice pulls me out of my spiring thoughts in an almost painful way. I snap my head to look at him.
He looks worried. His eyes were shining with concern, his browns frowned. He seems to be waiting to reach out, to touch me just to make sure I'm here, living and breathing. Not dead. Not smashed in the pavement of the aches and ruins of what's left of my school. He doesn't, however. Probably because he sees something quite unreachable in my eyes.
I feel unreachable. I'm not here. I'm not here. This isn't happening.
"What?" My voice sounds odd. I don't feel like that's my voice. It sounds like someone else's. Someone distant.
He doesn't say anything for a long moment. He looks at me. I can almost hear him reassuring himself: "She's here. She's here. She's right here."
"What…” He stops, takes a deep breath, “What were you doing on the rooftop...?" He asks after a while. Carefully. He's afraid of the answer.
No. I realise. He's afraid because he already knows what the answer is.
I don't say anything, because I don't need to.
He just looks at me and I look at him. I think we have an entire conversation with just our eyes.
A few minutes go by before he nods as if he understands.
"Okay..." He says slowly, looking away from me and at the lifeless blank wall in front of us as if he might find something there, some sort of answer. I keep looking at him some more, almost memorising his face, his expression, the way his eyes water and how he presses his lips tightly together to hold back the tears. Everything about this moment feels surreal and wrong and unnatural, like I'm looking at him outside of my body.
My brother. My little brother. My little brother saw me standing on the rooftop of a burning building. He saw me ready to jump. He screamed at the top of his lungs to stop me.
I feel the numbness give way to that deep knowing sadness in my heart. My brother... My little brother...
I feel myself start to shiver.
"I don't want you to do that..." Charlie says finally, so quietly I can barely hear him, and I only understand them because those are the exact same words Michael said when we were there and it makes my stomach drop, it hits me like a ton of bricks. "I know I don't have any right to ask you that because of everything that happened. I know it's hypocritical and egotistical but... You can't do this..." His voice raises at each word he says and I feel my eyes widen little by little. "You can't leave me... You can't leave me and you can’t leave Oliver and you have to stay here because..." He sobs and hides his face in his hands. My heart squeezes itself.
My brother... My little brother...
I feel my heart ache. Physically ache. It physically hurts me to see the tears in my brother's eyes. And it is because of me. And suddenly I don't feel numb anymore. I feel my body almost bust itself into life.
The memories of the past few months, and the past year, come to my mind as if summoned.
I am right now where Charlie was just a few months ago. I was the one crying because of him. I was the one who found my brother wanting to die in that bathroom. I was the one who was dying with guilt for not trying harder. How could I've been so blind? Why didn't I do anything? Why didn't I say anything? How selfish and self-centred can I be to not see this? To not have seen the signs?
"I'm sorry..." I say, my own voice tight with tears. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." I say again and again, bringing him close and hugging him tightly. He hugs me back in the same instant as if needing to touch me to make sure I'm real and not a fragment of his imagination.
"You don't have to apologise. You never have to apologise... Not because of this." He says, tears soaking through my jumper, "I know how you feel now..." He says with a bitter laugh after a few seconds. I can't help but laugh as well, it's bitter and humourless, and the irony of the situation doesn't fall flat, so we laugh and cry about it because, honestly, what else can we do?
It’s all very funny because it’s all very true.
He pushes me away just a little to look at me. He looks older. Kinda wiser. I don’t know when or how it happened. I don't know what to think of it, but I don’t think I like it.
"I love you, okay?" He says, "And I know it doesn't mean a lot now, but it's good to say, and it is good to hear. If you were…” He stops, forcing himself to say the word, “... Gone… I would miss you terribly... I would never be the same. And I know it's not about me, but..."
I love him. I love him. I love him.
"Charlie, it’s fine..." I hold his hands, "It does mean a lot." He smiles sadly because he understands. Love can't cure this, but it helps to know that you're loved.
It feels like we stay like this forever. It’s been a while since Charlie and I hugged like this, ever since he came home from the hospital to be more precise.
It’s him that breaks the silence once again.
“You know we’re going to tell Mum and Dad, right…?”
I know. Of course, I know. It was what I would do if I was in his place. But I really, really don’t want to. And he sees exactly that in my face.
“I know. I know it is hard. I know you think it’s best to keep it hidden… but it’s not Victoria… you know it is not.”
I look down, waiting to ignore his words, to make him stop talking.
He sighs a little and stays quiet. I don’t look at him so I don’t have any idea of what his expression is like.
“What would you do if you were in my position?” He asks quietly. His voice sounds older, too, I realise. I really don’t like it.
I don’t say anything because, once again, he knows exactly what my answer is.
“You would tell them.” He replies to me.
“Charlie… they won’t understand,” I say, very quietly. I know I’m being a bit unreasonable, but I think I can allow myself to be unreasonable this time.
“But I will.” He says, “I do. And I’m going to be there, just as you were for me all those months.”
I look at him. I have tears in my eyes. Something broken in my soul.
“It’s my turn to take care of you now, Tori.” He says so softly.
That just makes straight-up tears fall from my eyes. And he’s crying again, too.
“Okay?” He asks, hugging me.
“Okay…” I answer, heart heavy.
Nick and Michael came back, then. Nick is holding a chocolate bar in his hands and then offers me. "Here... Put some sugar into your system."
I take the bar from his hand a little awkwardly, but I appreciate the gesture. "Thank you....”
He smiles at me, his Nick Nelson way of smiling and then goes sit down next to Charlie and Charlie lights up like a Christmas tree. I watch them for a few seconds with my mind at ease with the knowledge that my brother is loved and he loves someone.
I look ahead and Michael is watching me, still standing up. He has that strange look in his eyes again; like he sees right past me, like he knows everything.
He smiles again, a silly, boyish smile and comes to sit down next to me.
“All right?” He asks, not breaking eye contact, and I know that he’s just not asking out of obligation and politeness. He really wants to know. He really cares.
I think for a moment, thinking about everything that happened on this crazy, unreal day and the past year as well.
“I don’t know…” I reply truthfully, “But I guess that’s okay, right…?”
He smiles at me, that knowing smile. It still pisses me off, but right now, I think that’s okay.
“Yeah,” He says finally, “Yeah, that’s okay.” He reaches to hold my hand and I look at it like it is a strange creature. He looks at my hands as well, with hope.
I hold his hand and he interlines his fingers into my own. It helps the shivering.
Mum and Dad come hushing in. I mentally prepare myself for what's to come, slightly tensing up. Michael holds my hand tighter.
I don’t know if things will be okay. I think they won’t for a long time. But then, Michael stands up still holding my hand, giving me strength.
I look at it, look at us. I know we have a very long way ahead of us.
I stand up, even when my body screams for me to stay still.
I give the first step.