A/N: This story is just one tragic plot twist after another, isn't it? No, like legit. I write the most tragic stories! I don't know why, I just do. I promise nobody is going to die, okay?
Once Kyra had calmed down a little bit, we made our way to the hospital. It was about a 10 minute walk. Patrice and Evan went home, probably to let me do the whole comforting boyfriend thing. Really, I had no idea what was going on. I was used to being in the hospital myself, and I had no idea what it feels like to be on the other side.
"What happened? I mean, if you're okay and your mom's okay, then who else is there?" I asked, the previous conversation just coming back to me.
"My brother was visiting. Archie, we need to hurry." Kyra said, the urgency in her tone almost scaring me.
"Oh, shit. Okay, we'll cut through the cemetery." I nodded in understanding. No, this isn't going to be one of those lame stories where we get hunted by zombies or something. As awesome as that would be, it's just not reality.
We ran, (well, I kind of hobbled, but whatever) through the graveyard, not even looking at each other as we raced. We made it though the graveyard in about 2 minutes, as nobody in their right mind would come to Appleton on purpose, so there weren't many graves.
Soon enough, we were at the hospital. It felt really weird, not being in a panic. I mean, I was worried for Kyra's family, but usually I have this huge lump in my throat. Every time I come here, I'm terrified that the doctors are going to have bad news about my MD or tell me I'm going to die in a few months or tell me I have to have yet another surgery. I also sometimes feel this weird sense of hope, like maybe they're going to find me a better medication or my MD was really something else, something curable. I have to swallow that down. It's only going to get worse from here, and I just have to accept that.
Kyra put her hand over mine, and we walked simultaneously into the hospital. I felt a wave of fear strike me. What was wrong? Did Kyra's brother get burned? Did he die? Maybe he was fine, but they're just checking him out. Yeah, maybe that was it. Only time would tell.
"Kyra!" Mrs. Waterton waved, catching our attention. Kyra let go of my hand and ran into her mom's arms. I felt like I was going to barf. The suspense was killing me. Was this how everyone else felt when I had the concussion?
"Mom, what's wrong? Why are we here?" Kyra asked immediately, the speculation obviously getting to her, too. I stood about ten feet away, not wanting to invade, or whatever.
"It's Daniel. He's been burned really bad. I've been to visit him already. The doctor says he should wake up soon." Mrs. Waterton bit her knuckle, trying to hold back tears. My eyes widened.
"Is he burned for his entire life, or will he get better?" Kyra asked, tears forming in her eyes. She was trying to be strong, but sometimes you just can't hold it back. I've cried before, tons of times. Like last time they told me I needed spinal cord surgery.
"No. He'll get better, but the skin on his arms will be scar tissue. He got off really lucky." She shook her head. I was surprised at how well they seemed to be taking it. I would've been spazing out. I guess they've had a lot of bad crap in their lives. Maybe they just got tired of crying.
"Good." Kyra nodded once, turning to me. I gave her a supportive smile. She gave a sad one back. I hated the desperate look in her eyes.
"I've got to go call your father. You can go up and visit Dan if you want." Mrs. Waterton turned to leave. She gave me a nod, acknowledging me. I smiled back.
"What room is Daniel Waterton staying in?" Kyra asked the receptionist. She clicked a few things on her Mac computer.
"209. Archie knows where it is." She looked at me fondly, as if I were her son or nephew or something. I wanted to crawl in a hole and die.
"Thank you." Kyra said miserably, probably at the reminder that I spent a whole crap load of time here.
Kyra walked beside me as I lead the way to Daniel's room. The sad thing was, I knew exactly what room he was in. That was the room I was in the fourth time I had surgery. That time was on my knees, not that it matters now.
"In here." I said softly. I could see Kyra's hand shaking as she reached for the handle. Neither she nor I had any idea the level of disgustingness her brother's condition was. I felt a bit squeamish as I thought about it. I had been in the hospital loads of times, but I'd never had to witness open wounds like that. Usually, the doctors stitched me up and that was it.
"I'm scared." Kyra whispered, more to herself than me. I put my hand on top of hers, which was resting on the doorknob.
"Together. Ready?" I looked at her, and she nodded. I opened the door, and Kyra gasped in horror.
There was a young boy- probably about 8 or 9 years old- lying comatose in the hospital bed. His skin was pale and lifeless, and the only thing that made me believe he was even alive in the first place was the moderate rise and fall of his chest. His arms were wrapped in bandages up to his elbows, as were his legs up to his knees. An IV was tucked into one of the bandages. His blond hair was singed and blackened at the tips. His left eyebrow was burned clean off. The poor kid.
"Daniel…" Kyra whispered, her eyebrows rose in the middle of her face. Worry was replaced with remorse. She slowly approached his side. She knelt down beside him, seizing his hand between hers.
"Kyra, are you okay?" I asked, trying not to upset her teetering mental stability. She was seconds away from freaking out; I could see it in her eyes.
"Y-yeah. I'll be okay." She stuttered.
"Are you sure?" I asked again reassuringly.
Kyra shook her head 'no', and collapsed into tears. She slid her arms around me, locking her hands over the back of my shoulders. She bawled into my shoulder for ages. Not really knowing how to react, I rubbed circles on her back and said "Shh…" over and over again, which is what my mom would use to calm me down when I was a little kid.
"H-he's only 9 years old!" She wept into my shoulder. I held her tighter against me, desperately trying to mellow her out. She had finally lost her cool. I was wondering when it was going to happen. I mean, she cried a bit at my house, but that was before she knew about Daniel. Even then, she still kept control of herself. If I've learned one thing in my many years of friendship with Patrice, it's that rather that pounding the crap out of something, girls spill out all their inner problems when they loose it.
"Shh. It's okay. I'm here." I muttered soothingly in her ear. She sobbed more.
"Kyra?" A small voice mumbled. Kyra's eyes widened and she whipped around. "Kyra, please don't cry."
"Daniel!" Kyra screamed in exhilaration, rushing to his side. Doctors showed up almost immediately, running tests and checking vital signs. Daniel had woken up.
A/N: I hope this chapter doesn't suck, because I'm half asleep and it's exactly 1:10am. Oh, awesome. Please tell me if it's stupid, because I can edit it. R&R! This is the longest chapter so far, with 1400 words.
This is a pretty big announcement, so listen up! I've decided to do a sequel to this story, which will take place a currently undecided amount of years in the future. And, no, Archie will not die. Archie's to awesome, and I have declared him immortal. His disease will follow the correct time lines, just no dying.
