What Makes It Wrong for Us to Fall in Love?

I felt some tugging on my neck. Something. Someone was pulling on my key necklace.

Too lazy to have opened my eyes, I just tried to recall what situation I was in before I fell asleep.

Hospital.

Chair.

Bed.

White walls.

Stephen.

Stephen.

I opened my eyes without moving and looked at Stephen, whose fingers were fumbling with my key necklace.

He was conscious.

"Stephen?" I managed to whisper through my excitement.

He didn't respond. His eyes were still closed, but he never let go of the key.

I held the hand he used to play with my necklace and pulled it away from me. I just held it. "Stephen, Jesus Christ, you're awake,"

No verbal response.

But he held my hand too.

His fingers wrapped around my hand. That was enough of a response for me.

I looked behind me where there were three other chairs, which were occupied by a sleeping Josh, a sleeping John, and a sleeping Kennedy. "John!" I called quietly. "John, call a nurse. Stephen's responding!"

John, who remained asleep, didn't give me the attention I wanted.

I turned to Stephen again. "Stephen.. If you can hear me.."

His grip tightened.

"Stephen, if you can hear me, squeeze,"

And he squeezed my hand weakly.

I started crying. "Stephen, I am so sorry.. I love you,"

And then his hand suddenly went dead. His hand slipped out of mine.

"Stephen?!" I took his hand again. "Stephen!"

That time, there was really no response.

John started stirring.

And I didn't waste any time trying to keep quiet. "John, John, call a nurse!"

He snapped awake. "What? What happened--"

"Just call the fucking doctor or something, I don't know what just happened!" I panicked.

He pushed Josh up and passed my command to him, and Josh immediately went running.

John ran to me and took his turn holding Stephen's hand. "What happened?" He asked me.

"He squeezed my hand, John, he was responding!" I answered.

And my answer made him smile. "He was responding?" He looked at Stephen. "Stephen!"

But like a while ago, he didn't respond.

Josh ran back with the nurse, Kennedy woke up and the nurse approached Stephen.

She told us to back away for a second, while she took his wrist. Her eyes filled with panic while they darted to the machine that was keeping track of Stephen's heart rate.

It was slowing down.

"Shit, shit, no." I didn't care about what the nurse said, I forced myself back and held Stephen's hand.

It squeezed mine weakly.

The nurse called a doctor, and with things happening way too fast, the next thing I knew was they were using the electric irons to try to keep Stephen's heart going.

"Stephen, don't do this to me!" I muttered while tears spilled out of my eyes.

Stephen was dying.

"Stephen, please. You can hear me, right?!"

One. Two. Three. Clear.

"Stephen, keep holding on. Please?! Don't let go, Stephen! Don't fucking let go!" I cried.

One. Two. Three. Clear.

John ran out of the hospital room. He couldn't stand to watch.

I didn't try to understand him.

I was dying emotionally.

"Stephen, don't do this to me. Please? Who's gonna save me? Huh? Who's gonna help me come around? Stephen, don't do this. Please? Stephen. Don't let go. Don't let me go."

Clear.

And his hand drew out of mine.

The line was going flat.

There was one more point going through the machine and each millisecond, I was hoping for another one.

"Stephen," I looked at him finally, after staring at his lifeline. "Don't let me go."

Clear.

The point was close to the edge, still no other one in sight.

John ran out the room.

Of course, who'd want to watch his brother die, right?

The doctor looked at the wall clock.

And I ran into the bathroom and broke down before the doctor could even declare Stephen's time of death.

Fuck.

--

Two weeks, Stephen had been asleep and unconscious for two weeks.

Two weeks, and I never got over how he almost died.

I mean, sure, the morning after, we found out Stephen was fine, but he almost died.

Nothing really strange about that.

But it was trauma for me.

I was the most vulnerable piece of shit for two weeks because I knew that I could lose Stephen any fucking second.

John and I never stopped crying.

For Christ's sake, Stephen was fucking dying, and him responding for a second didn't give us hope at all.

Him almost dying didn't help at all.

John was asleep on the chairs behind us again, it was my turn to sit next to Stephen.

Jared and the guys came again to visit.

It was only me and John that never left.

Garrett as much as possible never left either. He really cared about Stephen.

And Pat stayed with Garrett.

Jared brought pizza again because he knew that stuff would've helped cheer us up even the slightest bit.

While John managed to eat, I just sat there with Stephen.

Guilt was eating me alive.

No words could describe it.

"Jess, you gotta eat something, come on." Jared held my forearms and started pulling me up.

"No," I quietly refused.

"Come on, Stephen's gonna be fine, and you'll be a couple of feet away from him, he's gonna be fine," He said.

"No," I refused again.

John spoke up with food still in his mouth. "Leave her alone, Jared."

Jared ignored him. "Come on, Jess."

Garrett joined him. "Come on, Jess." He said again. "I'm gonna sit with Stephen for now, you go eat something."

I trusted Garrett enough, so I kissed Stephen's hand and let go of it reluctantly, then I walked to Pat.

Pat handed me a slice of pizza.

"Thanks," I muttered.

"Jessie, baby, cheer up." Josh shoved a pizza into his mouth and gave me a hug. "Joshikins is here, cheer up, Jessie."

"How do I cheer up when everything's my fault," I put the pizza down.

"Hey, it's not your fault." Josh pulled back from me and kissed my forehead.

"Josh, who are you fucking kidding?!" John yelled uncontrollably. "This is all her fucking fault! My brother's gonna die young because of that bitch!"

"John, stop," Josh cut him off.

"No! No, Joshua, this is all her fucking fault!"

Then we knew John had completely snapped. He didn't care if he was talking rudely to his best friend. And the way John called Josh Joshua gave the fact that John's emotions had collapsed away.

"John, no." Josh stood up for me. "None of this is her fault, John, shut up."

"Yeah?! Well whose fault is it gonna be when he really doesn't make it through this, huh, Josh?! Whose fault is it gonna be when I lose my brother?! Whose fault is it gonna be when you lose one of your best friends?! God's?!" John screamed.

"John," Josh pursed his lips. "We know you're hurt."

"Well that isn't fucking good enough, it's not good enough you know I'm hurt, you don't fucking know how I feel about this whole thing!" He looked at the ceiling and wiped his tears up.

"Stephen's gonna be fine!" Josh yelled. "Stop blaming Jess for this, John, it's not her fucking fault!" He snapped as well.

"No! No, Josh, Stephen isn't going to be fine! He's been asleep for two fucking weeks, he is never gonna wake up because his heart can't take all of this!" John yelled back. "He's got a fucking heart problem!"

"A what?" Garrett's head snatched to our direction. "A heart problem?"

John immediately quiet down.

"Why didn't we know about this?" Brian spoke up and questioned it. "Why didn't he tell us?"

"Because it was never gonna matter because none of this was ever supposed to happen." John explained. "None if this would've happened if we never met Jess. None of this would've happened if he never fell in love with Jess. None of this would've happened if Jess never found out and fell in love with him too. And none of this would've happened if they never got together.

"What made it wrong for them to fall in love? His heart problem, because he couldn't take any of this."