13 Chapter 13: Visiting Creed

CLOVER'S POV:

The door handle is slick in my hands. I don't know what is waiting for me inside the hospital room. Breathing in and out, I try to pull myself together.

Jett pats me on the back, pushing me forward slightly.

My heart is drumming in my chest as I try to rationalise everything. He's okay, I tell myself. He's just asleep.

Jett's hand covers mine on the door handle, pulling it down. Without his help, I'd probably stand here for an hour or something stupid, waiting for the courage to open the blasted door.

Just inside the room, I see my brother. I have to remind myself that he's not dead. I've never seen my brother so still. He's pale too.

Jett is holding my hand and he gives it a reassuring squeeze as he leads me into the room. My mum is sat on a rickety looking chair next to the bed, clinging to my brother's hand much the same way I am clinging to Jett. She climbs to her feet, reluctantly releasing Creed's hand. Her face is ashen, exhausted in a way I've never seen before.

Until this very moment, I've never seen my mum look anything less than perfect. Her hair that is usually flawless is currently flung into a messy bun and her face is completely devoid of makeup. I can see black circles under her eyes that don't belong there. Before I can inspect her further, she's pulling me into her arms.

"Thank you, Clover," she says directly into my ear.

"It's okay." I don't really know what else I'm supposed to say. I can hardly complain that she's asking too much when my brother is right in front of me, the way he is.

As she pulls away, she takes my face in between her hands.

"You really do look so much like him," she says, her voice filled with awe. "It's quite surreal."

Jett chuckles from somewhere behind me.

"Except she's prettier."

"That's true," my mum concedes.

Walking around my mum, I approach my brother. I reach out to touch him, but my hand falls short in the air in front of him. He's not dead, I remind myself again, forcing myself to take his hand in mine. It's not as cold as I expect. I glance at the screens around him. He's wired up to a heart monitor. His heartbeat sounds steady, although I have no idea what it should sound like really.

Jett and my mum say something about going to fetch us all a coffee but I'm not paying attention. A tear rolls down my cheek as I sit in the chair my mum previously occupied.

"What are you like?" I whisper, my voice breaking slightly. "Because of you, I've had to come home early and everything," I complain without conviction.

I begin to tell him all about everything he's missed over the last couple of days. It feels like I've been back longer than just the two days I have, so I'm surprised when I run out of things to tell him after rambling on for five minutes.

Taking a breath, I stop talking. He probably can't hear me anyway. I rub the back of his hand with my thumb.

"You've got to get better, Creed," I tell him after a moment's silence. "You owe me three months."

I laugh but it doesn't sound right. There's no humour in the sound at all.

Focusing on the sound of my brother's heartbeat, I slow my own racing heart. He's alive and that's all that matters. When my mum and Jett return, my eyes are closed. Having long ago ran out of things to say, I'm just sitting here holding my brother's hand as if my touch alone is enough to keep him with me. It's naïve but I'd do anything to keep my brother by my side.

Growing up, when my friends had talked about their siblings, they'd mostly complained. Me? Not so much. We never really argued as kids. Perhaps it was the twin thing, but we were always dead close, practically best friends. Even now when something goes wrong with me, he's the first to know about it.

If he was awake now, I'd tell him all about how much of a d*ck Rigby is, except if Creed was awake, I wouldn't have even met Rigby.

I can hear Jett and my mum talking but I have no idea what they're saying because all I can see is Creed and all I can hear is the sound of his heartbeat on the monitor. I listen to it closely, fearful that it might faulter.

When it's time to leave Creed's side, I know that I can't face the others. My face is blotchy from tears and I feel as if more could fall at any moment.

Turning to my mum, I ask, "can I spend the rest of the afternoon as myself?"

She looks confused, unsure what I'm asking.

"I want to spend some time in the studio," I say. She'll never deny me the opportunity to work on my music.

Pulling out a packet of tissues, she agrees with a soft nod of her head. She places a tissue in my hand.

"Jasper will make sure you have everything you need."

"I'll make an excuse with the lads," Jett tells us as he prepares to leave. "You'll let us know when he wakes up?" he asks my mum.

"Of course," she replies. "Thank you for looking after Clover."

"It's nothing." The smile that stretches across his face is enough to make my heart skip a beat.