She lay there, barely breathing, with an IV in her arm and a tube down her throat. I had been in the hospital room for over two hours, not moving, not eating… I was honestly surprised when my brain pointed out the fact that I was breathing. I didn't think I had the right to breathe after all this. After what I put Marley through; after she passed out on the stage, in front of everybody; after they carried her out on a stretcher; after I demanded that the immediate responders take we with them in the ambulance; after the doctors refused to let me in her room until they got her all set up.
I didn't think I had the right to live after I had almost killed her.
I didn't think I had the right to do anything after Marley passed out, much less breathe.
She stirred, hardly anything, but still movement, and I could feel my stiff and frozen muscles twitch and move as I flinched. She coughed and sputtered and I immediately yelled for a nurse.
"Nurse Amy," I cried, standing quickly and I swayed where I stood—still in my sectionals dress—as the nurse and a few doctors shuffled in, pushing me out of the way. Marley was still coughing, and I felt even more helpless than when I saw her fall on the highest tier on the cold, hard stage.
I watched as they did God only knows what until a nurse finally remembered I was there and basically threw me out of the room. I tried to fight him off—I mean, what guy chooses to be a nurse, anyway?—and I screamed and shouted and tried to get back in the room, but he just wouldn't freaking let me!
"Marley," I shouted, still trying to fend off the stupid freak—wait, you know what?—the fucking nurse. "No, get off of me! I have—have to be with her! I have to, you fucking moron!"
"Ma'am," he stuttered, pushing me out of the room and into the waiting room. "Ma'am, please!" He gestured towards a few other nurses and they swiftly took me and held me to a nearby chair. Tears leaked from my eyes. It seemed like when I wasn't moving, neither were my emotions. The second I strayed from my position, so did my tears.
There was no need for the nurses to hold me, so two of them left, but one, a woman, maybe in her early thirties, sat there and held me whilst I sobbed. I knew I looked ugly, but at this point, I didn't care about that. All I cared about was Marley.
*Around an hour later*
"So… did we win?" Her voice was throaty and rough, not at all like the beautiful soprano that everybody loved. I could tell that she was trying to smile, but it came out forced. It came out oh, so forced, and it pained me to see that. The rest of the glee club was in the waiting room, most likely mumbling to themselves about their apparent self-pity.
"No," I whispered. I knew that she blamed herself. I would too. I watched with tired eyes and she nodded slowly before I noticed tears beginning to form at the edges of her eyes.
"I'm sorry," she muttered, her voice deeper due do to the tears that were now obvious. "I'm so, so, so, sorry. It's all… all of it. It's my fault." She started to sob, and I couldn't help but stand—again making myself light-headed—and go to comfort her. I climbed awkwardly onto her hospital bed and hugged her in a comfortable, yet strangely uncomfortable way. She gripped onto me with her one arm that wasn't plugged up into the IV. Marley sobbed into my shoulder without shame and I held her even tighter. And then, out of nowhere—I swear, it came out of absolutely nowhere—I got the strange urge to kiss her. Kiss her. I couldn't do that though. I am a Christian girl who fears God with every fiber of her being. But I don't suppose that that means I can't have urges, right? I'm a teenage girl; I'm going to have urges. It's a given.
"M-Marley," I rasped. I wasn't totally sure about this. But I'm Kitty. The Kitty. Besides, my motto is 'What Would Quinn Fabray Do?' and I'm pretty sure that she would take whatever the hell she wanted. And at that moment, I wanted Marley. "Marley," I tried again, still holding her close. "I'm going to do something, okay? But you have to trust me, alright?" I felt her nod stiffly against my shoulder. I slowly tore away from her, but I still kept my hands on her. "I need you to close your eyes, Marley." When she hesitated, I reiterated. "Please, Marley… please." She nodded again before her eyelids fluttered closed. I leaned forwards slowly, getting closer to that mouth that probably hadn't eaten in days, if not weeks. "You just have to trust me, Marley," I whispered, just before my lips touched hers.
My whole body froze. My lips were tingling. I had no choice but to inhale everything about her. My hands gripped her back harder—god she was so skinny… so, so, so skinny—and tears sprang to my eyes at the thought of what she did to herself because I lied to her. Lights exploded behind my closed eyes and then I finally realized: Marley Rose was kissing me back.