Chapter 46 - Blue and Deany

-Skye-

 

Two months after the escapade in which I became a murderer and we left Nate, he was dropped off at his home in a coma. No one knew how he got that, and no one knew how he’d received the injury. Just like Andrea. He hasn’t so much as flinched since he was put in Intensive Care, and the doctors don’t suspect he ever will. But they’d said the same thing about Andrea, and look what happened.

 

These past four months have been the worst of my life. Dean and I barely speak, since he’s unimaginably appalled by how I so effortlessly murdered Camille. Chase and I were growing closer in our grief at first, but I guess we just . . . detached again. And then that’s when the depression settled in.

 

At first, I was just angry. Angry with myself for letting it happen, angry with myself for being a killer, angry with myself for being stupid and reckless. Then I got tired, so, so tired. I could barely move my limbs. I had to get Penelope to lug me food everyday and my classmates all pitched in to bring me my homework. Then I wanted nothing to do with anything and just chose to lie in my room all day. I cried endless hours, longing for Dean’s arms around me and his comforting words, like that night in the aftermath of my breakup with Chase. I just wanted comforting and got none. So I fell into a hole I couldn’t quite seem to pull myself out of. It got deeper and deeper with every passing day.

 

And then Nate showed up, in a coma just like Andrea.

 

I went to visit him a few days after he was put into the hospital, and he looked awful. Dead, even. I sat beside him and sobbed for a long, long time even though I didn’t really know him. It was just so awful. I wished we could trade places and I could be the comatose kid that everyone was sorry for and everyone wanted to help but couldn’t so they sobbed at their bedside instead. I took Nate’s hand in my own at that point and talked about Andrea with him. I felt like we sort of bonded, and yes I know that’s ludicris but that’s what it felt like.

 

I left his room feeling like a jerk. Here I was, exploiting my life and wasting it. I wasn’t going to classes, I wasn’t feeding myself nearly enough, I barely ever even got up to use the bathroom . . . I was a mess. And it was embarrassing. I realized I needed to buck up and push through this awful spell because it has to end eventually, right? But what made me scared was the thought that “the end” would be death.

 

But yet I soldiered on. I started putting the pieces of myself back together. It was a lot harder than it sounds. I won’t really go into specifics, but let’s just say that everyday all I wanted to do was give up. But I never did.

 

Over the course of what felt like forever, I gradually got better. Much better. I went back to class and socialized and worked and actually tried. I was actually feeling pretty good. (Minus the fact that my best friend was in a coma, my next best friend hated me and I was pretty much basically alone. Except for Penelope.)

 

And then the miracle happened. Andrea woke up, she’s talking, she’s breathing on her own, she’s alive. But Nate hasn’t made any improvement at all.

 

 

I helped Andrea out of her hospital bed, which she’s been lying in for months. It was a tad strange to see her moving again, but a happy strange. I clasped at her arm and we slowly made our way down the hall. We stopped in front of Nate’s room, where she took a collective breath before she pushed herself inside. Once she sat, I left. It wasn’t really my business.

 

“Keep an eye on Andrea, please,” I told her nurse, who smiled at me and nodded.

 

I made my way downstairs, wondering if she was sobbing like I had right next to him. My plan was to sit in the cafeteria until her meeting was over, then I’d come back to her room and we’d discuss what happened. If she could. I thought maybe, just maybe, I could squeeze in a small nap before she was finished with Nate. I seemed to always be exhausted these days. What I didn’t anticipate was to see Dean standing nonchalantly at the bottom of the staircase, his eyes trained on me.

 

I lost my breath for a moment. “D-dean,” I choked out.

 

“Hi, Skye.” His voice was rigid. “I’ve been thinking it’s time to talk.”

 

I nodded, tightened my lips into a hard line and followed him outside of the hospital. I noticed then that he only had seemed nonchalant. He really was tense and nervous and anxious. I could tell by the way he kept picking at his fingernails absently, the way he rolled back his shoulders to try and relax, the way he tapped his hands against his thighs. It was a little comforting that he was nervous, too.

 

When we pushed outside, I honestly felt a strong urge to just run. Run away and never look back, forget all my worries and troubles and broken friends and lies and pains. But I knew I couldn’t. So I stayed.

 

Dean leaned against the wall, and I followed suit. We were about a foot away, and the distance made my heart ache as well as sigh in relief. He spoke first, after anout five minutes of awkward silence.

 

“How’s Andrea? I’ve heard she’s woken up,” he said tentatively.

 

I nodded. “She has. And, well, she’s okay, I guess. She’s in her first meeting with Nate right now.”

 

He turned to me, eyes blazing. “Nate’s awake, too?”

 

I looked down. “Oh, God, no. She’s just seeing him comatose for the first time.”

 

Dean slumped back against the wall and sighed, defeated. I knew how he felt.

 

“Look,” I began nervously. “I know you’re still mad at me. I’m still mad at me. But Andrea’s awake, so her death wasn’t for nothing.”

 

Dean’s eyes looked pain. “But now you’re saying that it was worth it to kill Camille�"” I noticed he said Camille and not her. “�"for Andrea. And it wasn’t. No life is more important than another, Skye. That’s why I’m still mad at you.”

 

“Because I’m happy my friend’s alive?”

 

“For believing that what you did was just!” he yelled.

 

I flinched at his tone. Then I involuntarily took a step away, creating more space between us.

 

He sighed. “Okay, I’m sorry. I came here to make up, not yell some more.”

 

I perked up. “You want to make up?”

 

He looked right into my eyes when he said, “Blue, I’ve missed you too much. Four months is a long time.”

 

Without hesitating, I jumped forward and propelled myself into his arms. He caught me easily. Hugging him felt easy, really easy, and natural. I felt like I was finally in the right place after being to hopelessly lost for so long.

 

When he pulled back, his cheeks were rosy. I kissed the left one, then slid out of his grip, embarrassed. He smiled shyly.

 

“Dean,” I started. “Are you still mad? Like, right now?”

 

He bit his lip. Then sighed. Then took a few deep breaths. “No, I’m not mad . . . just sort of, well, I guess upset. But mostly at just what happened, not really what you did.”

 

Relief flooded through me, and I couldn’t help but lean over and hug him again.

 

“Thanks, Deany,” I whispered. 

Author's Note

:D yay Dean and Skye!

Reviews

[selkietales]

I read your author's note and was like, "Hey, that's what I was gonna say!" So yeah, yay Dean and Skye!

[Jasmine Thousand]

This was such a cute chapter!!! At least Nate isn't dead. =_=" WHEW CLOSE ONE!!!

[AK]

Aw! Skye and Dean are just so cute!!!! I'm glad Andrea is awake:) Keep writing!

[13ReasonsWhy]

OMG I LOVED THIS CHAPTER. I LOVE THIS CHAPTER. I SAY NO MORE. I LOVED THIS CHAPTER.