Okay, this was inspired by the Aurora Theater Shooting. I wasn't there. I don't know anybody that was involved. But it was close enough to where I live that I was affected. I wasn't sure how to cope with this feeling of loss and sympathy to those families who were involved. But this is the only way I could express my emotions.
Disclaimer: I do not own Big Time Rush. (These disclaimers are getting lame, anyone agree?)
"James…what are you doing?" I laugh as he ducks his head as we enter the theater. He has aviators and a black ball cap to keep his face hidden. When I asked why the stalker look as he picked me up for the movie he said that he didn't want to be recognized and have our night ruined. I smiled at the gesture but he looked a little creepy as we dodge people in the lobby. It was the midnight premiere of some action movie that James Maslow, my boyfriend, was dying to see.
"I'm not trying to look suspicious if that's what you're asking." James replies with a hint of anger. I couldn't help but laugh. Just as he was about to shimmy down the wall to our theater I grab his hand and made him stand up straight. "Angela, what are you doing? Someone will recognize me." James tried to duck away again but I roll my eyes.
"Nobody really cares right now, Jay." I whisper. I gesture around us. "Look around, everyone is too excited for the movie to really care that a member of an up and coming band is at a theater in little ol' Colorado."
He sighs heavily and relaxes. He releases my hand and wraps his arm around my shoulders. "I guess you're right." He smiles down at me.
I slide my arm around his waist and rest my head on his shoulder. We walk into one of the ten theaters reserved for the midnight premiere of the movie. After much debate I let James drag me to the very back corner of the theater…right under the speakers. At least I won't be complaining about not being able to hear. I thought as James sits in the last seat of the row. I sit next to him, throw the arm rest up and cuddle into his side. His arm fell around me again and pulls me a little closer. We pass the time by catching up with each other after being apart for two months.
With James being in a successful band and having to tour and record and film all the time, I don't get to see him as much. He stars in a popular kid show. He is constantly hounded for pictures and autographs. Thus the reason why I allowed the 007 look for our date tonight. James loves his fans, but sometimes he needs a break and just be a regular guy sometimes. And if that meant looking like a secret spy in his hat, sunglasses, grey hooded sweat shirt and jeans then so be it. As long as it doesn't interfere with our night.
My brother Kendall Schmidt was in the band as well. My two other brothers were in showbiz too. I'm the only Schmidt kid that decided to be…normal. The boys never saw each other much but I saw them all the time. Besides, after seeing and hearing about what they go through daily, I thought I would benefit more from making a subtle living. I intern for a small boutique publishing house. That is why I moved from California to Colorado a year ago after my sophomore year in college. Kendall, Kenneth and Kevin come and visit me every once in a while, but never at the same time. I always have one K brother at my door. However, six months ago, Kendall came with a surprise. I had just got done with a shower and running a towel through my hair when there was a knock on my door. I answered it to not only find Kendall but his three band mates: James Maslow, Logan Henderson and Carlos Peña. There I was, in a wife beater, ratty sweats, wet hair and no make-up about to meet my brother's hot best friends. Lucky me! Little did I know that it really was my lucky day. I became close friends with all three boys and two weeks later when Kendall flew me out to see one of their concerts James had asked me out.
I ask him how the tour went and he excitedly tells me about the adventures on the bus, some of which I overheard on the phone with either him or Kendall (all I have to say: poor bus driver), the energy he gets from the shows, the once in a life time experience he thrives off of every day. I love watching him as he talks about his career. He loves it. He loves it more than life. His eyes shine with happiness and he subconsciously smiles when he thinks about all the fun he has. I find myself grinning at how ecstatic he is. Unfortunately, he notices too.
"What are you looking at me like that for?" He asks with a grin.
"Have you ever noticed how excited and happy you look when you talk about the band?" I ask him. "Your eyes shine and you always smile. It's cute."
"How do you know I'm not excited and happy because I'm with you?" He counters raising an eyebrow at me with a shit-eating grin.
"There!" I exclaim happily. "That look right there is how I know it's not me! You get this huge grin on your face that I never see unless you're on stage or on camera."
He laughs at me and kisses the top of my head. "You're too adorable for your own good, Angel."
"Angel?" I pull away from him and gaze up into his eyes.
"Yeah, you're my one and only Angel." He whispers and connects our lips. I grin and pull him even closer. It feels like seconds pass when he pulls away from me with that shit-eating grin on his face again. My heart swells knowing that I was the reason for it. "I love you."
I bury my face into the crook of his neck and prop my feet up on the balcony in front of us. "I love you too."
His arm never leaves my shoulders and he continues to place small butterfly kisses in my hair, my forehead, my cheek, my nose…where ever his lips can reach. I giggle as his lips brush a sensitive part of my neck. He pulls away grinning.
"Ticklish are we?" He asks with a devil grin. I try to stop smiling and shake my head. I fail miserably and his playful grin widens. He ducks his head to kiss that same spot again and I giggle loudly and try to push him away. "What's wrong, Angel?" He mocks with a smirk. "Don't you like my kisses?"
"Shut up, Jay!" I laugh and try to ignore him as he wraps both arms around me. "What are you doing?"
"I'm cuddling with my girl." He says simply. "Is that alright with you?"
I nod and nuzzle into his side. He chuckles and practically pulls me into his lap. I shake my head and return to being flush against his side instead. The lights dim and previews start. I hadn't noticed that the time had gone by so quickly. I glance up at James as he settles in for the movie.
About half an hour later, the movie starts off with a bang. Quite literally, a loud bang erupts through the small theater. James moves to see what the commotion is, but I hold him down.
"It's probably just some teenager messing around." I whisper to him. He nods and settles down again.
A brief second goes by and then gun shots ricochet off the walls. My eyes widen as I hear screams. I look around the small wall that guards the stairs and I see this lunatic in black strolling up the stairs. I panic. He has two guns, and automatic rifle and a simple hand gun. I look up at James with worried eyes. What do we do? I look around the theater trying to come up with a plan, but the screams continue and the gun shots are getting closer. James suddenly grabs my arm and yanks me down to the floor. It is sticky with spilled soda and candy but I could really care less. We try to stay hidden but James' attire stands out in the dark theater. He might as well have been wearing white. I'm shaking and muffle my startled cry when I see two feet in front of my face.
I look up and I get a closer look at him. He's wearing a gas mask and peeking out from the top I can see purple hair. Even through the glare of the gas mask, I know he knows where we are. I try not to sob but I can't help it. James tightens his grip on me. I can't look at him because the barrel of the hand gun is staring me in the eyes. I let out a terrified whimper and shrink as far back as I can. The man's finger moves to pull the trigger and as I brace myself for the pain I don't feel it. I hear the gun shots, it makes my ears ring, but I also hear a pained grunt and a body in front of me. The man moves up the stairs and continues shooting.
I am shaking so bad that I can barely move. But I force myself to help James. James who jumped in front of a gun to save me, James my boyfriend of close to six months who lay bleeding on the theater floor. James…
"James, James, please, God no!" I whisper as I roll him on his back. His face is scrunched up in pain and one of his hands is pressed into his shoulder. I let out a sigh of relief that lasts for a brief second before I notice the amount of blood. His other hand was pressed into his inner thigh. Blood was seeping through his fingers. The bullet had cut something. "Oh, Jay…James." Tears roll out of my eyes as I think about what to do. I glance up and see the shooter walking down the other side of the theater, still unloading bullets. I unzip my jacket and bundle it up. "Jay…baby this is going to hurt." I tell him as I press onto his wound to his thigh. He hisses in pain and I feel terrible. "We have to get you out of here. Now."
I look around and I can't see the shooter. That worries me, but just down the stairs the emergency exit was open. If we could just make it down the stairs… I bite my lip unsure if James could get up let alone go down the stairs without losing more blood.
"A-Angela…" James gasps out. I look down at him with worried eyes. "Angel…go. Get…out of…here. Please."
"I'm not going to leave you here bleeding!" I say helplessly. All I can do is hope that paramedics will realize that there are people unable to move in this theater, that people need help, including James.
"No." James shakes his head, getting into his stubborn mode. "You need to…get out." He takes a deep breath; my guess is he's trying not to cry out in pain as the pressure on his leg continues. "Baby, please…you…need help..."
"What?" I ask confused. He's bleeding from two places in his body and he says that I need help? Or is he saying that I need to get help for him and everyone else who is unable to move?
He lifts his hand that was on this thigh and touches my arm. It stings for a little and I look down. A thick but shallow gash marred my arm. Blood slowly trickled down to my elbow and dripped onto the floor. How did I not notice that? Adrenaline, my mind answers. That and James is in much worse shape and he comes first in my book. I shake my head.
"No, I'm alright. It's just a scratch." I say shakily. His face is paling and I realize we only have a few minutes before he goes into shock. "Jay, you have to stay with me okay? No passing out, no gazing into space, okay? I need you here with me."
He slowly nods. His eyes droop and I can tell it's a battle already. I look around once more. The shooter is definitely gone. If only I could just make it to the exit…
"Angel…I-I…its hard…" James murmurs. His eyes drop even further. "I-I don't…I… Baby…just know that I love you…okay?"
"No! No, no, no, no, no!" I scream as his eyes close. "No! Please, God! James! James, open your eyes for me! Open your eyes! Dammit James! Open your fucking eyes!" The tears fall even faster and I'm sobbing. I'm yelling at my unconscious boyfriend to 'just fucking open his eyes already' that I don't hear people enter the building. I don't hear them trying to coax me away from James. I don't hear them as they lift him onto a gurney and run him out of the theater shouting to each other. I am numb as a paramedic pushes me to follow James and his team out the emergency exit. When I move to follow them again, my paramedic leads me in the opposite direction. I freak out. "No! I have to be with him! I have to know if he's going to be okay! I love him! I need to be with him! Please! No! Get off of me! Let me go! James! James! Ja…"
I break down into sobs in the paramedic arms. He whispers kind words to me as he drags me to an ambulance on standby. I let him bandage my cut and do a routine checkup. As soon as he's done, I ask him if he knows to what hospital they took my boyfriend.
"I'm sorry, Miss, but I don't know." He smiles at me with pity before moving on to another patient.
I stand there trying my hardest not to break down again. Where is James? Where is my boyfriend? Where the hell did they take him? Is he okay? Is he—? No! I won't even entertain that thought. James will be fine. He'll be alright. He always will be okay. He can't leave me. I look around helplessly, wondering if anybody knows where they took James. Nobody makes eye contact. Everyone cast their eyes downward, upward, or toward the theater. No one will look at the injured. No one will bother to help the helpless. I sink down on a curb fifty yards away from everybody and have an emotional breakdown. I sob heavily into my knees as I pull them to my chest and wrap my arms around them.
A few minutes later, rain comes pouring down. It pounds into my back and my scalp. The icy water soaks through my shirt and jeans in seconds. My blonde hair plasters itself to my neck and face. But I couldn't bring myself to care. Somewhere in an unknown hospital, James is fighting for life. The owner of my heart is going to leave me, taking my heart with him. I can't let that happen. I can't let him leave me. I can't. Not after tonight. Not after barely beginning to live. It just wasn't fair. Why would God steal someone so pure, so good, so happy, and so young from this earth and leave behind a million shattered pieces behind? He wouldn't, He couldn't. Not my James. He can't take my James away from me. Despite this newfound confidence I couldn't move. I couldn't think of a place to start looking.
"Are you okay?" A timid voice asks me. It's then that I realize that something thick is around my shoulders and rain isn't dumping on my head anymore. I look up and see a boy, around the age of nineteen, looking down at me with concern. I briefly wonder how long he was trying to catch my attention. I nod once. "You don't look okay."
"Then why did you ask?" I croak my voice sore from crying and screaming.
The teenager shrugged. "Just to sound nice." He sits next to me and holds the umbrella over both of us. "So why the mental breakdown?"
"I…" I wasn't sure what to tell this kid. Why is he sitting next to me, acting like he cares? Nobody here cares for those who just lost someone important to them. "I lost someone." I whisper after a long minute.
"Who?" The kid asks quietly. He can tell that I'm unstable and emotional. But that doesn't mean he can treat me like I'm some kid.
"My boyfriend." I look down in my lap and see the ring he gave me two months ago before he left for L.A. again. I twist it around my finger.
"I love you, Angela." James whispers in my ear. His flight leaves in five minutes and they already began boarding. "Don't you ever, ever, forget that."
I cling to him like a swimmer lost at sea. "I love you too. I love you so much." I say weakly. Silent tears roll down my cheeks. James cups my face and brushes the tears away with his thumb. "When will I see you again?"
James thinks for a minute, deciding how to answer my question. He grabs my hand and thumbs the ring on my right ring finger. Last night, James gave me that ring. It was the first time we said 'I love you' to each other after four months of dating. He lifts my hand and shows me the ring.
"If you ever feel lonely or think that I might forget about you, look at this. This was my promise to you that no matter how hard things get, no matter how far apart we are, no matter what I'm doing or where I'm at, I will always love you and think about you." He kisses my hand and releases it. James pulls me against him for one last passionate kiss before he has to leave. As he backs away he says one last thing that nearly breaks my heart. "Forever and always, Angela."
The teenager watches me for awhile before deciding exactly how to word his next question. It takes him five minutes to form a word, but he is still having difficulty asking the dreaded question.
"Is…did he…uh…" the teenager glances around hoping to find the right words to say. I laugh with no humor.
"I don't know." I say, my voice is stronger than I felt and more confident. "They took him away and they won't tell me where."
"Oh, that sucks." He says in real sympathy. I laugh at his word choice.
"It indeed sucks." I agree. I look down at the ring and smile sadly. "We've been together for about six months. Today was the first time I saw him in two months. What a great way to reconcile, huh?"
"Why so long since you saw each other?" The teenager asks. He is genuinely curious.
"He's in a band and he has to travel a lot." I answer squinting into the distance. "Besides, he lives in California and I live here. While we'd like to see each other all the time, our jobs get in the way. I'm originally from Kansas, but my brothers got into the Hollywood scene so we moved to California. Now, they're there making it big and I'm here interning for a publishing agency."
"That's some story." The teenager whispers.
"It is." I look at him, and for the first time I notice something. It wasn't a teenager. This was a man about my age. He had pale skin, spikey brown hair and sad brown eyes. Behind him was a short Latino with sagged shoulders. Sitting next to the brunette next to me was a blonde haired, green eyed man.
"Do you have any idea where they took him?" Logan asks gently rubbing my back. I shook my head.
"Kendall," I look at my brother full of hope and desperation, "please tell me he's going to be okay."
Kendall moves to sit next to me and pulls me into his chest. I curl up into his side and unleash more tears. "I wish I could. But Angela, we have to find out where he is first. We need to hear from the doctors if he's going to be okay. I can't be sure."
"You didn't see him." I whisper. "He wasn't even scared. He just dove in front of me. Even when he was bleed out on the floor and on me, he just told me to get myself help. I don't know what I'd do if I lost him, Kenny."
"Shh, Angela." Kendall murmurs. "It'll all work out, you'll see."
"How are we going to find him, Logan?" Carlos asks as he moves to sit next to Logan. "He could be anywhere."
"We'll find him, Carlitos." Logan says strongly. Being the oldest out of all of us (I'm one year younger); Logan often took control of any situation. "First, let's get Angie out of the cold and get her dry."
Kendall stands up and pulls me with him. Without removing his arms, Kendall leads me to the car the guys had rented. I began to feel bad about getting the backseat wet but then images of James ran through my mind and the feeling went away. I bury my head in Kendall's chest and tears that I didn't know even existed anymore continued to pour out of my eyes. Logan pulls the car into the street and we make our way toward wherever they're taking me. We pull up to a decent hotel and head up to what I'm guessing is their suite. Kendall pushes me into the bedroom in the back of the suite, grabs a pair of black sweats and a long sleeve white shirt and shoves them at me. He then pushes me into the bathroom and shouts, "Take a warm shower!"
I smile despite myself. I have to love my brother. I slowly peel off my soaked clothes and turn the shower on. After doing a quick check for hairs, bugs, and blood I hop in. The warm water cascades down my shoulders and body. It's relaxing and I can't help but close my eyes…which soon become a mistake. As soon as my lids shut I face the night over again. I relive how the shooter slowly stocked up the stairs, how James' arms tightened around me protectively, how scared I was staring down the barrel of a gun, how James jumped in front of me with his arms wide open, how James' blood stained everything it touched. I open my eyes quickly and finish washing up. I reach for the white shirt when something dawns on me. That shirt belongs to James. Somehow the thought of wearing James' shirt becomes appealing. I thrust my arms into the sleeves and yank it over my head. I inhale the musky and sweet scent of James. His shirt is almost as good as having him here with me, like a security blanket.
I exit the bathroom with my wet clothes in hand. I open the dryer door and throw them inside and start it. I can't wear James' clothes all the time…well maybe just his shirt. I walk out into the living room of the suite and hear the TV talking in the background.
"…killed and thirty wounded." The reported says. I look at the screen and see the theater; people were still swarming around the street looking for lost loved ones. I squeeze my eyes shut. When I open my eyes again, the anchor is on screen and he looks very drawn.
"For those of you who are just joining us, there was a mass shooting at AMC Twenty Mile in Parker little over two hours ago." Two hours? I look down at my watch and see that, sure enough, it is two o'clock in the morning. I couldn't have taken more than a ten minute shower. How long was I sitting on that curb? "A man, whom was apprehended as he tried to make an escape after the massacre, was dressed all in black with a gas mask. He was armed with only two weapons. How he managed to get into the theater is yet to be discovered and motive is still a mystery." The news anchor shuffles the papers in front of him and continues. "Police are asking anybody who has any information on this man"—A shot of a middle aged man in his late thirties appears on the screen, his eyes are calm but his mouth is turned into a wide smile—"is to contact the number on the bottom of your screen. Whatever the information you may have may be crucial to this case. Now, let's go to Rhonda for the weather…"
Carlos turned off the TV and sat back in his arm chair. Kendall hunches over on the couch staring at the black screen in silence. I hear Logan moving around in the kitchen. Deciding that silence is better than noise, I move and sit next to Kendall. I lay a reassuring hand on his shoulder. He shoots me a sorrowful smile and moves his blank stare to the carpet.
"Has anybody heard anything?" I ask quietly. The tension is tangible in the air. I could cut it and keep is a souvenir.
"We didn't hear anything besides what that news guy has been spouting for the past two hours." Logan calls. "We're hoping that whatever hospital he's in will call his family and hopefully they'll call us or you."
"One could hope." I mutter. Kendall sits back and wraps an arm around me, rubbing my arm comfortingly.
Feeling exhausted all of a sudden, I stand and mutter a good night of sorts to the remaining three boys and kiss them each on the cheek. I pad down to the bedroom in the back of the suite and collapse on the bed. I glance over at the clock on the bedside table. The offensive green lights tell me it's still only two in the morning. Two hours. Two hours since I've last seen James. Two hours since we were happy and laughing and hugging and kissing. Two hours since I watched him get gunned down. Two hours since he saved my life. I find it amazing at how fast things changed in two hours—hell even two minutes my life drastically changed. I curl on top of the comforter clutching a small throw pillow to my chest.
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
I sigh heavily as I go to answer the pounding at my door. I continuously run the towel through my hair. I do a quick check of the time. It's barely past two. My brother shouldn't be here until three and knowing my brother he will not be early. Late is more likely. I open the door with an exasperated growl as the banging increases.
"What? Can't I take my own time in..." I trail off when I see who is at the door. My brother, Kendall, is standing there with three strangers. I blush and look down at my appearance. Wet tangled hair, faded white wife beater, and old ratty sweats. "Kendall, you're early!"
Kendall laughs, his green eyes dancing with mischief. "I can see that." Kendall snickers again. "Aren't you going to let us in?"
"Name one reason why I should?" I tease with a smirk. "You're technically not supposed to be here until three. You're an hour early. Why don't you find a way to entertain yourselves for an hour then return?"
"Angela, come on!" Kendall whines. He bounces from foot to foot in the hallway of my apartment building. "It's getting a little creepy out here. Besides, I'll make it up to you."
I sigh heavily again, like it's a burden to have my brother and his friends in my humble abode for a few hours. "Fine! But don't touch anything. You caught me in the middle of a project."
Kendall and his friends enter the apartment and they look around. I blush again as I realize how messy my place is. There's papers scattered on the dining table with black boards leaning against the chairs. Books and folders litter the floor around the coffee table in the living room. A laptop is humming away on the breakfast counter in the kitchen with more papers and folders stacked around it with many pens and highlighters of different colors. Kendall leads his friends to the couch and they all sit down. Kendall peaks at a folder with curiosity.
"I see that." He says as I began picking up the many papers and books from the living area. I slap his hand away and pick up the folder. I carry them to the corner of the open living space that was deemed my office, which is the cleanest area in the apartment, and dump them on the desk.
"So are you going to introduce me to your friends or do I have to name them myself?" I snap rudely at Kendall. He raises an eyebrow. He goes to acquaint me and his friends when the tallest, a brunette with killer hazel eyes and tan skin, beats him to the punch.
"I'm James," he holds out his hand to shake. I take it and am surprised by the soft warmth. He gestures to the guy sitting next to him. He is pale and his brown hair is spiked. He smiles and I have to blink twice. What a nice smile. "That's Logan and that"—he points the only remaining unknown in the room, a Latino boy with huge puppy eyes—"is Carlos. We work with your brother on set, stage and studio."
"Oh, so you're the other members of that band." They nod. "Right, so I'm guessing your last names aren't Diamond, Garcia and Mitchell, then?"
James laughs. "No, they're Maslow, Henderson and Peña."
"Hmm, not as exciting but normal enough," I sit down next to Kendall and James sits the farthest away from me. "So, not meaning to be rude, but why did you three come with this loser to see his little sister?"
"Well, we were in town and Kendall mentioned going to see a family member." Logan explains. "We already met the rest of the family and heard so much about this mysterious sister that we just had to meet her."
"Yeah, for the past year all we heard about is 'Angela this' and 'Angela that'. We decided to see if this Angela is real or not." Carlos jokes with a sly grin. Kendall groans and his face falls into his hands.
"Plus, it's fun to embarrass him." James laughs as Kendall throws one of my throw pillows at him. "Not to mention his reactions are hilarious."
"Why do you think I love being his sister so much? That's my job!" Kendall goes to throw another pillow but I grab it from him. "Hey! Just because they're called throw pillows does not mean that you can throw them!"
The other three laugh as Kendall, oh so maturely, sticks his tongue out at me. They stay for three hours, only leaving because they have a show the next day and don't want to be distracted. I hug each of them. Over the course of the three hours, we've become close friends. Logan and Carlos were definitely the loudest and the biggest jokers of the bunch while James and Kendall were more quiet and calm. But I didn't mind. They made my day a little more interesting. I watch from my door as the boys walk down the hallway to the stairs. But before disappearing, James glances back at me and gives me a sly wink.
"Angela! Ang! Wake up! Come on!" A voice shouts in my ear as a hand shakes my shoulder. "Wake up! James' parents called, they're flying over here but we need to get to the hospital. They already know we're on our way. Angela get up! We have to see James!"
I jolt upright and see Kendall standing next to me. I take a deep breath and stand up. He hustles me out of the room and hotel to get into the car. Logan and Carlos wait for us in the car and as soon as the door closes, we're rushing off to whatever hospital James is at. I look down at my watch. Four? I was out for only two hours? Again? I shiver. Why did it take three to four hours for the hospital to call James' parents? With a sting of pain I realize that James wasn't the only one injured in that shooting. There were many, countless others who need medical attention, countless families that had to be contacted.
The hospital comes into sight and a breath of relief makes its way past my lips. Finally, I can see James. Finally, I get to know how he is doing. The four of us jog to the entrance of the ER and immediately ask for James Maslow's condition. The nurse's page for a doctor and ten minutes later he appears. He looks worn and tired. The hour of the day and the sudden rush of people are probably taking its toll on him. He introduces himself as Dr. Frahm. He apologizes for the wait. We nod in understanding and he leads us deeper into the hospital.
"Now, we understand that James' parents are letting you see him, but you can't stay with him." As we open our mouths to argue, Dr. Frahm silences us with a look of sympathy. "No one can, even family. He's recovering from surgery. He had two shot wounds: one in his left shoulder and one in his right leg. We removed both bullets and the bleeding was easily stemmed in his shoulder. His leg, however, took longer. The bullet had cut open an artery. We sewed that up and gave him three blood transfusions." A small sob breaks through my lips. He had lost that much blood? Frahm looks at me sadly. "He's in recovery now and there are no signs of infection."
"So he's going to be okay?" Carlos asks quietly. Almost as if he were any louder that James won't make it.
To my utter relief and joy, Frahm nodded. "He's going to be just fine. Walking is going to be difficult and he won't be able to move his arm for a few weeks, but he'll be perfectly fine."
"Oh, thank God." I whisper.
Frahm stops in front of a door. Through the window I can see James on the lone hospital bed. Wires and tubes connecting him to machines that read his vitals. He looks so vulnerable, a look I never want to see again. I look up at Frahm, silently asking for permission. He nods and leaves us to enter James' room. As soon as Kendall closes the door, I'm at James' side, holding his hand that's not in a sling. Tears fall from my eyes. He's alive. He's alive and he's going to be okay. I nearly collapse from joy of the news alone. Logan, Carlos and Kendall gather around his bed. All look down on him in sorrow, upset that he has to be in this position.
"He's going to be pissed when he learns that he can't perform for a while." Logan mutters. We laugh in agreement. If there was one thing that James hated, it was disappointing his fans.
We stand there for a few minutes, each in our own thoughts. A nurse walks in to check on James and that's when the question falls from my lips.
"How long will it be until he wakes up?"
"It'll be another hour." The nurse replies with a small smile. I nod. After making sure nothing has changed, the nurse leaves.
An hour before I can see James' hazel eyes. An hour before I can talk to him, or at least try to. I doubt he'll be very coherent when he wakes. I see a chair and pull it up next to the bed before sitting. Another five minutes pass before Frahm reappears.
"I'm sorry, but you'll have to move out to the waiting room." Frahm says quietly. "We need to make sure his recovery is not tainted in any way. No offense."
I give James' hand one last squeeze before we leave the room. We were quiet as we sit in the overcrowded waiting room. It amazes me that no one has said anything about Big Time Rush's own James Maslow was involved in the shooting and that the other three members are waiting to see how he is doing. My guess is that no one cares at the moment. But word will get out soon and there will be no rest for the four boys. I look over at the three afore mentioned and frown. Kendall is slouching in his chair, gazing at the sterile white ceiling. Logan is reading some magazine from the table nearby before throwing it down and grabbing another. Carlos is bouncing his leg, twiddling his thumbs and his eyes dart around the room. These poor guys, they just return from a tour and their best friend/brother/band mate/cast mate is lying helplessly and wounded in a hospital. They don't need the extra stress. I stand up.
"Where are you going?" Kendall asks, not taking his eyes off of the ceiling.
"To get some coffee if that's alright with you." I reply. "It's going to be a while before we are allowed back in to see him and his parents are going to be here any second. I don't know about you but I'm dead tired. I want to be awake when they arrive."
Kendall nods in understanding and I walk away to the kitchenette area to the side of the waiting room. I fill a large cup three quarters of the way with black coffee and add enough cream and sugar to induce a diabetic coma. I return to my seat a few minutes later and end up sharing my coma inducing drink with the others. When it returns to me I can't help but notice that it's halfway gone. Those boys are guzzlers. Half an hour later Dr. Frahm returns and notifies us that he is awake and we can see him. We rush down the hallway, half full cup of coffee forgotten on the floor. He's sitting up in bed, only an IV needle in his hand and the brace remains on his arm. He smiles when he sees us. I want to rush to him and hug him but I refrain, that could potential injure him further than necessary. Instead, I grab his hand, careful of the IV, and smile at him with tears in my eyes.
"Hey," I whisper. Kendall, Logan and Carlos join me at his side.
"How are you feeling, buddy?" Carlos asks.
"Fine, I guess." He shrugs and winces. "Except when I move my shoulder that hurts like a son of a bitch."
"Well, if you don't move it, it won't hurt." Kendall jokes. James chuckles as he turns his hand over to hold mine. "Now, don't get mad, but there's something we have to tell you."
"I'm not going to die am I?" James asks with a smirk.
Logan shakes his head. "No, but you're going to be very upset."
Silence falls and James looks at us, waiting for someone to say it.
"Someone tell me. I'm not a mind reader." James finally says annoyed.
"You won't be able to perform for a couple of weeks." Logan responds. "They had to remove the bullets from your leg and shoulder. One of which cut an artery in your leg and had to give you three blood transfusions."
James nods, his face crestfallen. I squeeze his hand and he gives me a half smile. "So, how are you holding up?" He asks me.
I shrug. "Better than you. I'm all bandaged up from the small cut that a certain Maslow insisted I get treated while he lay on the floor bleeding…" I trail off my joking voice faltering.
"Hey," James says, catching my attention, "don't think about it. I'm alright. I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere."
"We're going to go and wait outside." Kendall says not so subtly. "We'll look out for your family, Jay."
James barely acknowledges them as they leave. He moves over as much as possible and pulls my arm toward him. I climb on the bed and snuggle into his side, mindful of his leg. He holds me close to him and waits for me to speak. I draw in a ragged breath and look up at him.
"There was so much blood." I whisper. "I wasn't sure what to do. You were falling away from me and I wasn't sure where everyone was." I let out a quiet sob as I relive those fateful moments. "Then when they took you away from me, I…" Sobs shook their way out of my chest as I cry into his chest. His arm tightens around me and he says sweet nothings in my ear. I calm after a while and take a deep breath. "They wouldn't tell me where they took you. I asked around and no one knew. Finally I just had a breakdown in the middle of the street. I couldn't move, couldn't think. You were unconscious somewhere, bleeding out, and I had no way of knowing if you were okay."
"Oh, Angel…" James murmurs. "I'm perfectly fine. It's going to take more than a lunatic with a gun to keep me away from you. I love you."
I lean up and kiss him. In the last four hours I had lost James. I had no idea where he was or if he was alright. In the last four hours I was reunited with James again. I know that he is okay and will be alright. My lips part for his tongue and we reacquaint ourselves with each other. His sweet taste is all I can concentrate on. My hands tangle in his hair, pulling him impossibly closer. I pull away with a loving nip to his bottom lip before curling into his side again. My arm drapes over his waist and I cling for dear life.
"I love you, too." I say with a small kiss to his neck.
Yet again, this was inspired by the Aurora Shooting that happened last Friday. I was listening to Parce Mihi Domine on repeat the last twenty-four hours to keep myself in this sad and depressed state. Now I'm moving on to Love Me Love Me to get me in that upbeat mood. ;)
Reviews por favor? (Thought I didn't do that anymore, didn't ya?)