"I'm going back to the house with Snake to get clean clothes," Manny says. Peter nods. "Spike's getting breakfast in the cafeteria. You should go sit with her."
She jerks her head back toward Emma's hospital room door, causing her curls to bounce and spray across her shoulders. Peter nods again and, as Manny walks around him, goes into Emma's room. He hesitates—the room is dark, dimly lit only by the early morning sun, and Emma seems to be sleeping. He hopes she's sleeping. Tentative steps lead Peter away from the door he's just closed and to the chair next to Emma's bed. He watches her sleep for the longest time until she rouses and drowsily calls his name.
"I'm here," he whispers, taking her hand. It hurts him to see her like this; he feels terrible—it had been happening right under his nose. He should've noticed it. He should've known that something was up. He should've seen it before it had gotten to this point. Before she fainted—before the panic attack.
They sit in silence; Peter listens to her breathing and the steady beep of the heart monitor—occasionally, it beeps too quickly, then too slowly, and every time it makes every hair on Peter's skin stand on edge, waiting for it to fall into a long beep. It never does.
"Em," he says, voice raspy and uncertain.
"Hm?" Emma's eyes flutter open as she hums.
"You have to get better," he whispers. "Please."
Emma sighs and turns her head from him. Peter's eyes become desperate and he holds her hand tighter—like a child scared to leave his mother.
"Emma, please, you have to get better." He sounds so much like Manny had the day before. His eyes are more scared, though, and more desperate. Fewer tears, Emma notes as she looks to him.
"Please," he says again. "I don't… I don't want you to keep doing this to yourself."
His hand is gripping her bony one so tightly it's uncomfortable. He looks as if he's about to cry; his eyes aren't too glassy, though. He simply looks distraught. Perhaps more than distraught.
"I…" Emma speaks for the first time. "Peter, I don't know if I can promise that."
"Y-You can try, though," he says frantically, voice breaking. "Can't you?"
"I'll try," she says after a long pause. He doesn't believe her, but somehow her words calm him. His grip on her hand weakens as he relaxes.
The next weeks are good. Emma's eating and spending more time with Peter and Manny and her parents. Peter walks her to class and Manny walks with her to lunch and back to their house. It's almost as if she can't starve herself or purge the food she's eaten. But she does. She broke her promise to Peter the day she made it. All that greasy hospital food? Vomited into the toilet before she had showered.
Four and a half weeks after the panic attack, however, Peter notices. He sees the cuts on her knuckles and notices her wrists are smaller than ever. He confronts her.
"Em, have you been eating?" he questions one night when they're curled on her parents' couch watching a movie.
"Of course I have," she lies—partially, at least. "Why do you think otherwise?"
"I… I just…" he trails off when she gives him a pointed stare.
"Do you not trust me, Peter?" she demands.
"No—no, it's not that Em," he tries, but knows he's blown it.
"I think it is." Emma says. Peter sighs. "And I think you should leave now," she adds angrily.
And so he does.
The next day at school, however, Peter does not back off. He walks with Emma everywhere. He's outside her classes when they let out and walks with her to her locker and sits with her at lunch and studies with her—he does everything but follow her into the women's restroom. Manny does that, though.
It's sudden when it happens. One moment, she and Peter are talking and the next she's falling forward onto his chest. Panic strikes him like lightning.
"Em?" he breathes. He stumbles back with her dead weight and, as terror and adrenaline take over, he shouts for help and falls to his knees, cradling Emma's head in his lap and combing his fingers through her hair. A few strands pull from her scalp by his gentle touch.
His mother comes running down the hallway with the school nurse. His mother shouts at a passing teacher to call 911 as she pulls Peter away to allow the nurse to help Emma.
"Mom—" Peter starts, but his mother leaves before he can speak. He knows she's going to meet the ambulance when it arrives at the front doors.
He drives Manny to the hospital. She's crying and he's trying not to and they're both hurting too much to care about their mutual hatred. Manny clings to him when they arrive at the hospital. Snake is already there, having ridden in the ambulance with Emma, and he's holding Spike, who must've arrived sometime before them. Spike's crying and dread fills Peter's veins.
"No…" he whispers. Manny cries harder. His arms, which had been wrapped halfway around her in comfort, fall limp to his sides. Manny runs to Snake and Spike, who pull her into their hug. Peter stands back. He overhears the doctor's apologies and—and oh god, this can't be happening. He finally cries, leaning against the sterile hospital wall and hugging himself with one arm as if he's all he's got. His other hand pulls harshly at his hair and he sinks to the ground, overcome and in absolute pieces.
He'd loved her. No, he loves her. And it hurts to be lied to. She… she told him that she would try. And she didn't. Peter realizes now that she'd never stopped.
Manny comes over to him. She wraps her arms around him and lets him cry on her shoulder.
"I'm so, so sorry," she whispers over and over again, as if it's some sort of mantra that will bring Emma back to them. It doesn't. The fog of pain overwhelms Peter and he holds onto Manny as if she's all he's got.