You've Got Me Love Drunk

-HAYLEY'S POV-

“What the fuck have you been crying about?” she smirked, slurring her words and trying to adjust her eyes to the sudden bright lights.
“You’re a cheeky bitch sometimes Rockerwell. Just stay here.” I said, before realising she couldn’t really go far considering all the wires she was hooked up to. Walking up to the reception desk by walk had a bounce in it for the first time in weeks.
“Would you be able to tell your disbelieving superiors, aka the people who supposedly knew best, that Emily Rockerwell has just woken up from her 3 week coma and has even managed to crack a joke despite probably being in mass amounts of pain. Cheers.” I said walking with slight arrogance, walking away before the receptionist could reply. I told them she’d wake up; she just likes to make a scene.
“So, erm, how are you feeling?” I asked, taking back my permanent position of the last 3 weeks in the chair by her bed.
“Like shit. But it makes it better that yours was the first face I saw. Hayley, tell me what happened.” It wasn’t a question so I had no way of avoiding it.
I sighed. “You had gone out with some people from your history class. When you left them a few hours later, Dave was waiting for you. He beat you up, and you’ve been in a coma for the past 3 weeks. You’ve undergone surgery, and the doctors said it looked promising that you wouldn’t suffer any brain damage if you woke up. Which you did.”
“No, I didn’t mean that. I meant in America, with Josh and Zac. Are you okay?” I stared up in disbelief at her as she took my hand. She’d just been in a potentially life threatening coma for nearly a month, and yet she could still sit there and ask if I was okay.
Before I could get the chance to reply Emily’s main doctor walked in. by the look on his face I could tell he was stunned about Emily’s convenient waking. I couldn’t help but hate him. I know he had done so much to help Emily live, but this was still the man who was going to cut off the life supply to the love of my life. I moved to stand by the door while he did the usual checks: checking her pupil dilation, her blood pressure, making sure she had enough liquid saline stuff due to her losing some blood from hitting her head on the street.
“Well, you’re showing positive signs. You’ve responded to the surgery well, meaning there is an extremely small risk of brain damage. We’d probably like to keep you in another week just to check your immediate recovery but after that you should be able to go home, although you will need some form of care for the following few weeks. Is there anyone that could provide that?”
“That would be me.” I spoke up from the doorway. I was pretty sure this doctor didn’t take a fancy to me, considering the amount of trouble I’d given him these few weeks.
“Well then, I’ll leave you be for the minute. I’ll be in in a few hours to check up on you.” I held the door open for him on his way out. Making my way to sit back down again, I heard Emily mutter a grunt and looked up to see her moving over and patting the edge of her bed. Being careful to avoid all the wires I climbed up next to her. The instant I was comfy she snuggled herself into me, her head resting on my chest.
“So tell me, how many times have you come to see me these past, however may weeks?”
“Erm, every day. I’ve sat on that chair every day. From about 11 to 8, occasionally popping home quickly.”
“Fuck off,” she said, pulling her head up to look me in the eyes. “You must have been bored stiff. What did you do!?”
“Well, I read to you, I sometimes wrote some lyrics and read them out to you. you didn’t offer any great feedback though,” I just about dodged a feeble attempt from her at poking me in the ribs. “I talked to you mostly. It wasn’t that bad.”
“Did anyone else come to visit? Not that you aren’t great enough, because I would rather you were by my side than anyone.”
“The guys from history came up a lot. Oh, that’s a thought.” I grabbed my phone from my pocket and quickly texted Dan telling him that Emily was awake and okay. I’d promised to update him with any news as he had to go and visit his family up North somewhere. “Can I get you anything?” I asked, putting my phone away.
“A glass of water would be nice; my throat’s as dry as a desert.”
“Shit yeah, of course.” I swung my legs over the side of the bed and went out into the hallway to grab a glass of water from one of the machines.
“There you go.” I said, handing her the glass. By the time I had taken my seat again the glass was empty.
“I was thirsty.” She grinned at me before yawning.
“Go to sleep, you must be exhausted.”
“But I just slept straight for three weeks!” she exclaimed, disbelief plastered across her face.
“Not properly though! Try and catch a few hours.”
“Fine. But I’m only doing this because I’m too tired to argue.”
“So you are tired?” I smirked, proving myself to be correct.
“Oh bollocks. Fine, yes I am.” Before I could make some witty reply about always being right she had fallen asleep. Kissing the top of her head and moving the strands away from her face to stop them tickling her nose (which always bugs her when she’s asleep) I couldn’t help but stare at the beautiful girl in front of me. My girl. She had pulled through, just like I knew she would. That was half of the puzzle sorted. Now for the other half. Dave.