I came up with this idea and it just wouldn't go away until I wrote it. The title of each chapter, even the title of this story, is the title of a song that describes the chapter. So without further ado, here is chapter one. Enjoy!
Full Summary: Two friends. Dorian Havilliard's life was always easy as Crown Prince. Chaol Westfall has drifted through life without much purpose. The two boys visit the local children's hospital as part of an outreach program. One Girl. There they meet Celaena Sardothien, a girl who is fighting the battle of her life. Three lives forever changed in a single moment by One Death.
Disclaimer: I am not the awesome Sarah J. Maas so I sadly do not own anything that belongs in the world of Throne of Glass. I do however own this idea and a bad sweet tooth craving.
Chapter One: Bring Me to Life
"Without thought, without voice, without a soul
Don't let me die here
There must be something more
Bring me to life"
Evanescence, "Bring Me to Life"
Chaol Westfall fidgeted with the plastic ear bud of his headsets that he stuffed in his pocket before joining Prince Dorian Havilliard, the heir to the throne of Adarlan, on the tour of the Royal Children's Hospital located within the heart of the capital.
Being in hospitals always made Chaol uneasy. Something about being surrounded by the sick and dying made Chaol feel like he was being buried alive. The harsh smell of bleach and ammonia were suffocating and burned his nose.
"Chaol," Dorian whispered harshly as their tour guide stopped to talk to a hospital staff member. "Pay attention. You have been zoning out for most of the tour."
Chaol looked back at the tour guide before pulling Dorian away.
"What's the matter? I thought this was something you wanted me to do." Dorian asked, folding his arms across his chest.
"It was. It is, Dorian," Chaol said, shaking his head to clear his thoughts. "You know how your parents feel about your, um…" Chaol trailed off, unsure of the correct words.
Dorian rolled his eyes.
"Your Highness, would you like to continue to the Pediatric Cardiology ward?" the tour guide said, finally returning her interest on the two teens.
"Yes, please," Dorian said, giving the woman a smile.
Chaol sighed and followed in Dorian's shadow. As Dorian accused him of, Chaol tuned out the chatter of their guide as she showed them around. Sticking his hands back into his jacket pockets, Chaol could feel the smooth surface of his cell phone and the music that he had on it.
He wasn't sure exactly what was going on with him. He went to school, he went home, he did his chores, and he practiced his guitar. He did everything that was asked of him yet…
Sighing again, he rubbed his temple. He wasn't happy. He felt like he was drifting through life.
He often wondered what he was supposed to do with his life. Dorian had a purpose; after all he was the Crown Prince of Adarlan. He would soon rule a country and needed to know his people. But Chaol didn't have anyone counting on him. His father practically gave up on Chaol for not wanting to go into politics. Yet his mother would love for him to come home from school more often. And his little brother just wished his father would stop focusing on him just once so he could actually have some fun.
Chaol wasn't sure how long he stood there, staring at the speckled floor titles, before he was interrupted by a soft female accented voice.
"Excuse me sir."
Startled, Chaol looked up and saw a nurse in red scrubs pushing a blonde girl in a wheelchair. The nurse had a kind smile on her face even though Chaol was stopping her from doing her job.
"Sorry," Chaol mumbled and stepped out of the open door way.
"Thanks."
Chaol watched as the nurse pushed the patient into the room and helped her get into bed. The nurse helped reconnect lines and the room was filled with the rhythmic beeping sound of a heart monitor.
"Your next dose of medications is in about an hour," the nurse said, folding up the wheelchair and moving it to one side. After everything was completed to her satisfaction, she asked, "Do you need anything now though?"
The girl, dressed in a faded blue sweatshirt and pants, simply shook her head and settled back into bed.
"I think," the girl said, her voice soft and breathless, "I may take a nap. You can wake me up then."
"Okay, sweetheart," the nurse, smiled softly down at her and brushed a blonde lock of hair that had pulled free of her braid out of her eyes.
Chaol didn't say anything as the nurse walked towards him and stopped just beside him to look back at the girl, whose eyes were already closed as she leaned back to rest against the slightly elevated stack of pillows.
"What's wrong with her?" Chaol asked softly, looking at the nurse.
The woman, probably no older than twenty-five, looked up at Chaol. With her exotic caramel skin, her eyes were so alluring and so dark that Chaol couldn't tell if they were brown or black even if he had time to study them more.
"You know I can't tell you that," the nurse said gently, holding her gaze steady on Chaol.
"Right," Chaol realizing what exactly she was saying. He glanced back at the girl who was now curled up on her side.
The nurse laid a hand on his forearm bringing Chaol's attention back to her.
"Let me put it like this: She is in need of a miracle."
Chaol swallowed, imagining what the girl could exactly be in need of a miracle for, and glanced quickly at the nurse's badge that was clipped to her scrub top.
"Thank you Ms. Ytger," Chaol said, trying to give nurse a smile but it felt a bit forced.
"Nehemia," the nurse said, returning the smile. "You can call me Nehemia."
Chaol repeated her name and his thanks before the nurse returned to her desk. Chaol was lost in his own thoughts that he didn't realize the girl had turned over and was now facing him, her eyes wide open.
"I need a heart," she said with very little feeling, as if she was okay with the fact that she was dying.
"A heart?" Chaol asked, confused.
The girl nodded and then pointed to the wheelchair that she had abandoned a few minutes ago. "Sit. I'm getting a headache looking up at you," she commanded.
Chaol awkwardly went to the wheelchair, opened it again and then sat down in it. He felt a bit ridiculous sitting here like this, talking to some girl knocking on God's door, someone that was a complete stranger to him.
"A heart transplant," the girl said. "I need of one but sadly hearts a little short of order."
"I'm sorry," Chaol said, unsure of what else to say.
The girl remained quiet for a moment before looking at him, the heart monitor the only sound that could be heard.
"I was never sick," the girl said, staring above Chaol's shoulder. "I was pretty active as a kid and could never really sit still. And then just after my 15th birthday, I started feeling weird. I suddenly wasn't able to do things like I use to. I started having trouble breathing and sometimes with stomach pain. My doctor couldn't really find anything wrong, not that he was actually looking at the right organ. It wasn't until I became dizzy, passed out and hit my head on the corner of the coffee table did someone find out what was wrong with me."
She looked at him then, her blue eyes flat and void of any emotion. "I originally had a viral infection that caused inflammation of my heart muscle. Because of that my heart muscle has thinned out and one of my ventricles is too enlarged that it can't pump blood correctly.
"Originally doctors thought that I would make a full recovery, live a normal life. But two weeks after I was sent home, I went into cardiac arrest." She paused for a moment here, lost in her own thoughts, just staring at Chaol but not really seeing him. She blinked once, twice and her eyes refocused on him. "Anyways, my heart is too damaged, even with these devices they've implanted in me. It's only a matter of time."
Chaol didn't know exactly what to say to her. Did he say 'sorry' or 'I'm sure you'll be okay?'
"I'm Chaol Westfall," he said instead, offering her his hand.
The girl looked at his hand and then back at him, astonishment flashing in her eyes. Her eyes, Chaol noticed, though blue like the waters of Silver Lake—the longing of home seizing at his heart—had just a faintest ring of gold near her pupil. He hadn't seen it before but then again he hadn't been looking at them before.
"Celaena," she said, slowly reaching out and taking his hand, her IV swinging as it moved with the hand it was attached to. "Celaena Sardothien."
They had just released each other's hand when there was a knock on the door.
"There you are," Dorian said, walking into the room, one hand stuffed into a pant pocket. "I was wondering where you disappeared to."
"Sorry," Chaol said, standing from the wheelchair. "I, uh, got distracted."
"Mmhmm," Dorian said, smirking as his eyes darted to Celaena and then back at Chaol. "Since you weren't there for the rest of the tour through the Neurology and Nephology wards, are you ready to go then? Mother wants me home in time for the banquet at the Royal Museum of Science and History tonight."
"I miss going to the RMSH," Celaena said, rolling slowly so that she was laying on her back again. She was smiling slightly at Dorian. "My favorite section was that little area were you could dig up those fake dinosaur bones."
Dorian laughed. "God, I totally forgot about that."
"I didn't," Chaol said, glaring at Dorian. "You shoved sand down my pants in Grade School."
Celaena laughed out loud before it turned into a cough, her heart monitor sounding a different sound as it showed heart EKG go into a frantic pace.
The nurse before, Nehemia, came rushing into the room, pushing Dorian out of the way. She was barking out an order to another nurse who was hot on her heels.
"Breathe Celaena," Nehemia said, snatching an oxygen mask off the wall and placing it over Celaena's mouth and nose. "Come on, slow deep breaths."
The male nurse, meanwhile, was filling a needle with some sort of clear medication from a vial that he had brought with him. He verified the amount and Nehemia glanced up and nodded at him when he showed her the needle. With a few quick taps against the side of the needle, he put aside the medicine vial and administrated the drug into Celaena's IV line.
"Gods above," Dorian whispered, having gone to Chaol's side while the whole scene unfolded.
Chaol wasn't exactly sure how long he and Dorian stood to the side watching. The male nurse had gone to the computer stationed within the room and started documenting what happened. Nehemia soothingly brushed Celaena's hair as she held the mask to Celaena's face until the girl was able on her own to hold the mask herself. But eventually the heart monitor finally stopped the alert call and Celaena's EKG on the screen showed a slower rhythm.
Celaena ripped the mask off her face, her eye lids drooping slightly, and cussed.
"Damn it, I hate this. I hate being like this so damn much," she cried, resting her cheek on her pillow.
Nehemia said something that Chaol didn't recognize and kept brushing her hair till Celaena finally fell asleep.
*IRM*
Chaol scrapped his shoes against the welcome mat of the hospital in hopes that he managed to dry the soles of his shoes well enough not to squeak down the hall. Sadly no such luck since he sounded like a demented mouse each time his shoes squeaked against the tile floors.
It had been raining all day, which was okay with Chaol. He wasn't in much of a good mood after the more recent argument with his father. His father didn't like the fact that Chaol was spending so much time messing with his guitar instead of doing any extracurricular activities that would make his college application shine. He had to get out of the house so he decided that he might visit Celaena.
It had been a week since he first meet Celaena and he would come periodically to come and visit her. She didn't have another episode like she did that first day, but she wasn't improving and neither did her place on the transplant list. He would sometimes bring her a new book, which she would finish by the next day considering she spends her entire day in a hospital bed, or a new movie that the hospital didn't have in their stash of DVDs.
He learned that Celaena was an honors student, taking her classes over the computer and with a private tutor. She had a passion for fashion and for food. And he also learned that Celaena love to argue with him, with her nurses, doctors, social works, really just about anyone who didn't agree with what she wanted.
And that was exactly how Chaol found her, bickering with Nehemia about a certain dress color that a starlet wore the night before at some big award show.
"Oh God, no," Celaena said, shaking her head as Nehemia readied her next IV medication dose. "It was a total wash on her. I seriously think her stylist was either blind, a four year old or was playing a prank because there is no way that any shade of orange should have gone on her."
"But it was a beautiful dress," Nehemia said, raising the vital and needle up to eye level to measure the correct amount of medication.
"Just because the dress was beautiful does not mean that it was beautiful on her," Celaena pointed out.
Nehemia was about reply when she noticed Chaol standing in the door way.
"Well howdy stranger," Nehemia said, smiling. Chaol had to smile himself. Nehemia sounded slightly odd saying "howdy" in that accent of hers.
"Hi Nehemia," Chaol said, walking over to the chair that was added to Celaena's room after Chaol's second visit to see Celaena. "She still being feisty?"
Celaena glared at Chaol as Nehemia laughed, nodding at him as she gave the needle a few taps to remove any bubbles.
Chaol sat down and watched as Nehemia injected the medication into Celaena's line. "Alright, you know the drill."
"Yeah, yeah," Celaena said, rolling her eyes. "Page you if I am having any side effects or in need of that PRN medication."
Nehemia gave Celaena a smile, pleased at her response, before leaving the room to go check on other patients.
"So, what's got your knickers in a twist?" Celaena asked, laying back in her elevated bed.
"Family stuff," Chaol said, rubbing the back of neck.
"I see."
Chaol sat there for a moment, unsure of what he should say. More importantly, he couldn't exactly figure out how to put into words what he wanted to say.
"I've been arguing with my father," Chaol said, eyeing the IV bag just behind Celaena like it was the most interesting thing he had ever seen.
"About you not going into politics?"
"More or less. He doesn't understand how it just doesn't interest me."
"You mean sitting on your ass all day, get paid thousands to represent the people elected who you and yet do nothing to bring their issues to light. You mean that doesn't interest you?" Celaena ask in mock horror, bring a hand up to her chest.
Chaol snorted.
"Funny," Chaol said. Celaena earned him a smirk.
"You know I'm right about what politicians do." Celaena sighed and stretched her neck to one side. "God, if I had that type of power, I'd do anything to make a difference."
Chaol blinked. "You could still make a difference."
Celaena rolled her eyes and stretched her neck the other direction.
"I'm serious," Chaol said sharply. He didn't like the negative attitude Celaena had when it came to getting that heart she needed.
"Well so am I," Celaena said, glaring at him.
Chaol blinked.
"God Chaol," Celaena said, the balling hospital linen in her fists. "You are such a fucking idiot sometimes. How many—" Celaena's heart monitor gave a warning beep "—people have been in pain, suffering, tormented? How many of them have been turned away by society, by those who don't care for anything unless there is something in it for them? How many times did you walk right by the chance to make a difference?"
Celaena rubbed her eyes harshly and inhaled through her nose, trying to bring down her heart rate. Chaol wasn't surprised to see Nehemia leaning against the door post.
"Is everything okay?" she asked, one hand propped on a hip.
"Yeah," Celaena said, nodding her head slowly. "Chaol is just being a total buffoon."
Nehemia snorted but left the room once she checked the EKG records and made notes on the computer.
Chaol had pulled out his headsets again, fiddling with the plastic bud.
"I'm sorry," Chaol whispered, feeling it was the best thing he could say at this particular moment.
Celaena, who eyes were dropping closed in fatigue, mumbled some sort of response but Chaol didn't getting a chance to inquire about what she had said before she was asleep.
*IRM*
Chaol was standing beside Dorian as he joked with other students in the hallway. Neither boys were in much of a hurry to get to their next class.
"You're such a fucking idiot…"
"How many times did you walk right by…"
Chaol rolled a bead on the custom keychain he had received from a child at the Children's Hospital. He wasn't sure what made him keep the keychain. Maybe how the child, who was currently undergoing a round of chemotherapy, smiled at him as she crafted the beads onto the string. And while he wasn't normally the type of guy to carry around pink and glitter, he couldn't take it off his set of keys.
Thinking of the Children's Hospital, Chaol hadn't seen Celaena since her outburst on Monday. On Tuesday, her cardiologist was with her. On Wednesday, Dorian had kept him at the library for a group project he had forgotten about. And yesterday, Celaena was at the Radiology department having another echocardiogram. So Chaol was hoping he could see her today, come hell or high water.
"You're such a fucking idiot…"
"How many times did you walk right by…"
Chaol sighed and closed his eyes, his fingers stopped their fidgeting. He couldn't get her words out of his mind. She was right, damn it. He had been an idiot. He spent the rest of the night, pushing around his dinner till it was a large mash of different cold foods, thinking about how he could be different. Be the person he wanted to be. Sure he would be pleasing his parents by getting into politics, but he could change things to help the –
Chaol nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard the crash against metal followed by the snickering of students.
About fifty feet away, a freshman boy was only in his tidy whites and a towel that wasn't covering much of them. Standing around and mocking him where three of the worst footballers. Chaol, like Dorian, fit into almost clique and he didn't mind majority of the players on the team, but these three were tormentors. They targeted the weak like the freshmen, those that were into things like the Science Club or Math Athletes, and basically anyone who wasn't popular or into the same things they were.
Bullies. Chaol could remember, years ago, when he had his own share of bullies.
He cringed as he heard that awful voice.
"Hey Westfall, you're walking. Don't you want to honor—" Chaol tensed "—your name."
With a hard push from behind, Chaol went head first into the small classroom lockers. Chaol could feel the start of tears forming in his eyes as his head exploded with pain when it clashed with the harsh metal. Chaol slowly tried to turn over, attempting to get away.
"Oh no, you forgot your water!" Chaol gasped as he felt the icy cold water hit his groin.
Chaol's lower lip quivered as he looked up at saw Richard Dickerson grinning over him.
"Ah, poor Chaol," Richard said, attempting at sorrow. "Did you wet yourself?"
A few of Chaol's classmates snickered as Richard reached for the few books that Chaol had left on his desk.
"Here, I'm sure you are going to need these—" Chaol covered his face as he saw Richard slowly let the books slip from his fingers "—to cover yourself up."
Chaol cried out as the books hit him in the groin and curled up in a ball. Tears were flowing from his closed eyes as he wished he was at home, that he never went to school today. And lastly, he wished someone would just stick up for him.
And that's when he heard an unfamiliar voice speak out.
"Hey you, jerk face, why don't you pick on someone your own size!"
Chaol opened his eyes just in time to see a boy with black hair that stuck up in all directions punch Richard square in the jaw.
"What in the world is going on here?" said Chaol's favorite teacher, Ms. Boyers, entering the classroom with their actual teacher Mr. Andrews on her heels.
"He punched me!" Richard cried out, pointing one finger at the new kid, his other hand clutching his face where the boy had hit him.
"He's a bully!" the boy said, crossing his arms. "He pushed this kid, poured water on him and then dropped a book on him. And I don't think this is the first time either."
Ms. Boyers' eyes flashed wide and then narrowed at Mr. Andrews.
"Mr. Andrews is this true?" she asked him. "Do you have a bully in your classroom and have done nothing to stop him?"
Mr. Andrews made a few tempts to try and make his case before Ms. Boyers raised one hand and said, "Enough! I've heard just about enough. Sidney, go get the principal please. Oh and the nurse if she is free."
A little red head girl that stood near the door nodded and raced to the front office.
"You," Ms. Boyers said, pointing at the new kid, "help Mr. Westfall up."
"Here, easy does it," the new kid said, helping Chaol to a sitting position first and then to his own two feet. Chaol's arm was wrapped around the kid's shoulders as he steadied him to his chair.
"What's your name?" the kid asked. Chaol could barely hear him over Ms. Boyers who was ripping Mr. Andrews a new one in front of the principal who just arrived.
"Chaol."
The kid smiled. "Well Chaol, I'm Dorian. I hope you don't mind having me as a friend."
For the first time that day, Chaol smiled slightly. "I would be honored to call you as a friend."
Chaol blinked as the memory faded. He couldn't remember exactly what Dorian's punishment was for punching Richard, who ended up moving at the end of the school year. He could remember Celaena's words though.
"How many times did you walk right by the chance to make a difference?"
Dorian sighed. "God I hate those three. I can't see how they are still on the damn team. Here," Dorian said, handing Chaol his bag. "I'll go deal with those morons."
"How many times did you walk right by the chance to make a difference?"
"To make a difference," Chaol whispered, watching the freshman, now crying, try to get his clothes back from his tormentors who were passing his uniform back and forth like a game of hot potato.
"Chaol?" Dorian said, concern written all over his face.
Chaol's messenger bag slipped from his shoulder and his soul left like it was unburdened.
"No," Chaol said, his jaw set as he stalked towards one of the athletes.
Chaol wasn't exactly sure what he was going to do, but he didn't have much time to think as he intercepted the freshman's uniform in midair as it was getting tossed again.
"Hey what the—" the receiving jock said, confused.
"That's enough," Chaol said, giving the freshman his clothes.
"Thanks," the kid said, his lower lip quivering as he held his clothes to his chest and hurried back to the locker room.
"God, Westfall, you are such a buzz kill," one of the footballers, Alex Pugman grumbled.
"No, you are a buzz kill and a damn bully." Chaol could feel his temper flaring.
"Excuse me?" another footballer, this one beefed with muscles as thick as Chaol's head, said, glaring at Chaol.
"You heard me. You are trying to compensating for the fact that you are subpar athletes that only get to play because you cheat off of Bianca who is scared of you. The only way that you get into parties is because of your positions on the Champion football team, despite the fact you only get to play for three minutes a game. You have no one you can call as a friend so you spend your time creating pranks to be in the center of attention.
"But you know what, people don't like nor care about you," Chaol said. "And we're tired of seeing you three pick on people who can't defend themselves against you."
Alex was glaring at Chaol, his face red with rage.
"You're lucky that you are Prince Dorian's best friend or your face would be pulp right now," he muttered, taking a step towards Chaol.
"Yeah, you're right. I am lucky to have Dorian as a best friend but that doesn't mean I use his status as Prince to get away with things like you three use your muscles, lack of brains and status as athletes to get what you want."
Alex growled and pulled back his arm, his hand balled into a fist, and threw a punch in Chaol's direction. But what Alex didn't know was Chaol spent years after he meet Dorian taking self-defense classes.
In a matter of three steps, Chaol parried Alex's fist away from him, and brought up his other arm to hold the arm away as well as turning into position in order to drive the elbow from the arm that first blocked the punch into Alex's chest.
Studded, Alex grunted and fell backwards onto the hallway floor. The two that were with Alex, scuttled away, their jaws wide open in shock. Dorian, witnessing the entire thing, laughed out as Alex looked like he was about to cry.
"Be thankful that I didn't go for your crotch," Chaol muttered, rolling his eyes as he stepped over Alex, who cringed as Chaol's foot came within a breath's distance from his nose, and walked back over to Dorian.
"What is going on here?!" the vice principal shouted as he hustled towards the scene, students parting for him.
"Nice one," Dorian said, giving Chaol a fist bump.
"Hey do you remember what your punishment was?" Chaol asked.
Dorian blinked. "For which event?"
"The first day you meet me, when you punched Richard?"
Chaol could faintly hear the athletes complain about how Chaol attacked Alex and the grumbles of students around them disagreeing with them. But what he really heard was Dorian laughing.
"Oh my God, I totally forgot about that day," he said, smiling. "I had to reorganize the library stacks after the kindergarten kids messed them up during the book sale. I actually liked doing that, was probably one of the best punishments I've ever had to do."
Chaol smiled and shook his head. Of course, even ten years ago, at the age of seven, book worm Dorian didn't mind spending more time in the library.
I hope that you enjoyed this. But I would like to note that even though this is fictional, there are real people who are experiencing a life and death situation, that are the victims of bullying. I tried to write these scenes with the utmost care and with the respect that these people deserve. And I hope that if you witness someone being bullied, either physically, emotionally, or even cyberbullying that you take a stand to stop it. By not saying anything, you are saying A LOT to the victim. Also, if you can be a DONOR, either blood or organ, be one. You can be a personal hero to someone. (And that's my PSA!)
Many Hugs,
Nollie
Playlist for this chapter: Evanescence "Bring Me to Life" — Katy Perry "Wide Awake" — The Wanted "Heart Vacancy" — Swedish House Mafia "Save the World"
For more of my Throne of Glass fan fictions, just replace the word dot with an actual period: nolliemarie dot tumblr dot com/tagged/My-FanFics
