It's Thursday!

So that means: another chapter =) Yay XD

Simple chapter, but it's necessary so eum, I hope you'll like it and leave a review because I looove to hear what you guys think.

Just so you know, Billy doesn't come back before chapter 13 :/ But these chapters are important too! But sorry about that, that's how the story goes..

Enjoy ;)

Everything was dark. My breathing was uncontrollable and I kept squeezing the light fabric surrounding the tiny hospital bed between my fingers, but it didn't stop the pain. All I could do was convince myself it would soon be over. Actually, it didn't really hurt. It was more of the feeling that I had a wound being fixed, but I was too frozen to feel it, and it made me feel sick. I tried to think about something else, but I could only feel the needle enter my skin and come out repetitively while the doctor tried to close the deep bleeding wound in my hand.

"Ok, you can open your eyes now," a low voice said, and I didn't fail to notice the laughter this person was trying to hide, the man I was holding hands with at the moment.

"It's over?" I asked in a small voice, unsure if he was telling the truth.

"Yes, Mademoiselle, everything's fixed," I heard the doctor confirm, and I was finally able to open my eyes.

My stare went directly to my left hand positioned between the woman's fingers, palm facing the ceiling. The cut started at the bottom of my index and went straight down to my wrist, dangerously stopping just before it could have been fatal. The once bleeding wound was now clean and sewn up and looked much better than when I had closed my eyes. I looked up to the man on my right who was looking at me with an amused smile as the doctor left the room.

"This is not funny, Nathan," I exclaimed, bringing my hand closer to my chest, covering it.

"Actually, yes, Sarah, it is," he disagreed before he chuckled lightly, teasing me like he always did. I rolled my eyes and looked away, ashamed of my childish attitude, but also angry at Nathan for being so insensitive. "I mean, who would fall like that trying to catch a ball," he explained, still smiling dumbly at me.

"A lot of people, ok?" I defended lamely, trying to justify how I had fell right on my face while running to catch a ball he had thrown at me. "And it's not my fault some dumbass left his beer in the middle of nowhere and I fell on it," I continued, looking down at my hand, remembering the feeling of the broken glass cutting my skin.

"Watch your language," he scolded me half seriously, and I rolled my eyes again.

"Yes, mom," I teased him, and he chuckled again, shaking his head in disbelief.

"You're only fourteen and you talk like you're twenty," he pointed out, and I just raised an eyebrow at him. Since when did he start acting all serious like this?

"Well, you're only seventeen and you talk like you're forty five," I answered back, and his only response was to hit me playfully on the arm before we both broke out in laughter.

"I don't. I'm just saying, you're still a little girl, you should act like one," he explained, but his attempt to make me feel better didn't quite work out.

"I'm not a little girl! I'm a teenager, you idiot, I wear a bra!" I defended again, and Nathan frowned before we started laughing again.

"Ok, fine, you're old," he finally agreed and I smiled widely at him as he rolled his eyes. "So, ready to go?" he asked after a minute and I nodded, following him out the door.

I peered at my surroundings, acknowledging every detail of the hospital that I hadn't seen when I had first came in, being too busy complaining about my hand. I kind of liked hospitals, even though there are mostly sick people there, and that's not very cool, but I felt calm whenever I was there. It always seemed like there was no reason to panic, you just had to wait. Being impatient, I never liked to wait, but it was always so peaceful around me that I didn't really mind. I was still happy to be leaving though, walking beside Nathan as I looked at him with a shy smile.

"Thanks for coming with me," I told him in a small voice, still smiling at him. He turned his head towards me, also cracking a warm smile before he wrapped his arm around my shoulder.

"No problem. That's what brothers are for."

The memory left my mind in a smooth sound, like a noise someone would do if they took a deep breath after spending hours without breathing. Exhaling slowly, I realised it was me who did it, that noise that seemed to wake me up instantly. It was dark again; my eyelids firmly closed refusing to let me see what was going on around me. I tried opening them, but it was really hard, they seemed to be glued to the bottom of my eyes, and every move I made with my face to try and change it sent waves of pain through all my body. Accepting the fact I couldn't open my eyes, I tried moving my fingers, thinking maybe if someone saw me awake, they could do something about my eyes. As I started moving my fingers one by one, surprisingly succeeding after a moment, I thought of how I ended up here. Why couldn't I move? What happened to me that made me hurt so much? Where was I?

I tried to concentrate on what I was hearing, but there wasn't much for me to analyse. It was very silent, but I could hear some people talking, unable to understand the words. After a moment, I heard the beeping sound. The constant high noise echoing in the whole room became louder and louder until it stabilised. I'm in a hospital bed, I realised. But why? I tried to think of the last thing I remembered, but it was all a blur. I was in my parent's car. I tried moving my fingers again, shaking them slowly, hoping someone would see. Jade was there... with Elisabeth and Matt. I felt someone grab my hand, caressing it softly. We were at the grocery store, bells tinkled; there were men, dressed in black.

"She's moving," someone said in a whisper, clearly unsure of what they were saying.

There was blood, at lot of blood. And this voice, I knew that voice, I knew that man. I moved my fingers again as I tried opening my eyes once more. I could see the light trying to break in.

"She's awake," the person said louder, squeezing my hand.

He told someone to shoot me. He told them to kill me. My shoulder... I had been shot.

"Doctor!" the voice shouted as my eyes finally opened, my head painfully trying to turn in the person's direction. I heard footsteps rush towards my bed, but I couldn't lift my head up, so I couldn't see who it was. Finally, an unfamiliar face came in my view, followed by another I remembered seeing before, but couldn't think of where.

"Sarah?" the unfamiliar face said softly, reaching for something next to my bed. I blinked twice, staring at the man with watery eyes. "Sarah, can you hear me?" he asked again, and I had to use all my energy to succeed in nodding slowly. He gave me a warm smile and pressed a button on the handle he now had in hand, which made my bed start shaking before it moved, rising me as it did so I could be half sit. I scowled in pain, trying to find a comfortable position even though I could barely move. "I'm Doctor Hurst; I've been taking care of you since you first arrived here. How are you feeling today?" he demanded to know as he checked on my shoulder. I turned my head to my left, staring at the huge white bandage covering my entire shoulder. It was so strongly attached that even if I wanted to move my arm, I knew I couldn't.

"As good as someone who's been shot can feel," I joked, smiling weekly at him. I heard a couple of laughs around me and I looked at my surroundings. I hadn't realised my father was there too (he must have been the one holding my hand), along with the other doctor that I now recognized. It was David, the guy I met weeks ago at my parent's party. The night I kissed Billy...

He was wearing those typical green thin shirts and pants doctors or nurses wore and he was holding a pad in one hand. He smiled warmly, exposing his pearly white teeth at me.

"We took good care of you," he assured me, placing a comforting hand on mine. It was kind of strange, since we didn't really know each other that well, but it was nice and I didn't mind it.

"Thanks," I finally said before clearing my throat. I had just realised my voice was raspy and broken, and I probably sounded like a man.

"So you remember what happened to you?" Doctor Hurst asked me, and I turned my head to him to answer.

"Hum, it's a little blurry, but yes, I do," I replied in a little voice. It seemed like I hadn't spoken in weeks. The doctor nodded and I turned to my father. "How long have I been out?" I asked him curiously.

"Four days," he told me, trying to smile to make it okay, but it didn't stop my eyes from widening, shocked by what I had just learned.

"Four days?" I exclaimed. The three of them nodded and I gasped.

"Well, actually, you woke up yesterday, but you were only half there," David corrected, and I raised an eyebrow at him, telling him to continue. "You were dreaming. You were screaming nonsense things and kicking everything, but then we stabilised you and you went back to sleep," he explained. I swallowed with difficulty, ashamed to have caused them so much trouble.

"I'm sorry, I didn't-" I started, but Doctor Hurst didn't let me finish.

"Its okay, Sarah, it happens a lot. It's part of the post traumatic shock, you were probably reliving the shooting," he assured me with a small smile, and I nodded hesitantly.

"What did I say?" I asked, curious. David said I screamed things, I wondered what it was and what I said about the shooting... I hoped I hadn't said anything about Billy and the guys. David turned to my father, asking him to speak for him. God, what did I say?

"You were asking for Nathan," he told me, and I sighed, raising my available hand to my head to place some of my hair behind my ear. My dad came closer to the bed, taking David's place by my side, and took my hand. I knew there was something he wasn't telling me but I thought maybe it wasn't something he wanted to mention in front of the doctor. Anyways, I kind of knew what else I could have said, so I didn't really need to ask. Of course I had been asking for Nathan, he was my guardian. He had always been there for me when I needed him and he took care of me like the good brother that he was. He may have died two years ago, I still couldn't bring myself to stop thinking he was watching over me, and that if ever I needed him, he would be there.

The doctors asked me multiple questions, some about the shooting and others about how I was feeling. They changed my bandages and checked my vital signs, making sure everything was working fine. An hour and a half passed and they finally left my father and me alone. My dad told me it was barely three in the morning, so that's why nobody else was there. He said Jade and Elisabeth went back home two days before, when they were supposed to. Of course they wanted to stay, but they had obligations and as soon as they had learned I was going to make it and that I was fine, they assumed there was nothing else they could do and decided they were better off at home. Dad assured me he gave them news everyday on the phone and that everyone had been extremely worried about me. He and mom took turns watching over me in the hospital while the other went working.

Turned out David was in medicine school and had a part time job as a nurse at the hospital, which also gave him more credit before he finished university. He had been placed under Doctor Hurst's surveillance, and since he was the designated doctor for me, I got to see him a lot.

The next day, my mom came to see me. As I expected, the woman was freaking out, and the doctor had to ask her to calm down or he would have to call security. I almost laughed, but knowing it was mostly because she had been worried for me, I didn't, and I felt kind of bad for her. After all, she was just trying her best to raise me. She maybe wasn't succeeding very well at it, but at least she tried. That's what they say, right? 'What's important is to participate'. My mom participated, on her own way. I respected her for that. Later in the afternoon, I received a visit from two very polite and awfully too serious police officers. They had come to take my statement. I honestly didn't know what to say.

"Well, my cousins and I went to the grocery store," I explained, looking between the tall built man with his perfectly placed brown hair and my parents, the both of them looking at me, trying to encourage me with their too present stare. I tried ignoring all the pairs of eyes that were stuck to me, but I couldn't. Doctor Hurst was there too, along with David, and they all seemed to want me to explain everything all over again, though they must have heard the story from Eli and Jade a million times already.

"Just the three of you?" asked the officer, his little pad in hand with the pen, ready to write everything down.

"No, Elisabeth had her son, Matthieu, with her," I corrected, and he nodded, writing something down before looking back up at me, waving me to go on. "We wanted baby food for Matt. About ten minutes after we got there, these men came in. They had masks."

I was pretty impressed at myself of how well I was handling this. I would have thought explaining everything would be hard, would make me cry, or would scare me at least. It didn't. I was very calm and I talked like I was stating a story I knew by heart.

"One of them shot the man behind the register. I went to hide with Jade and Eli, they were both in the back, and I was in a row. We hid there a couple of minutes, but one of them heard us, and he fired in our direction. I was hit. They left," I finally said in a hurry, saying what they had already heard before. The cop nodded anyway and wrote it down again. The second one, a little older than the first, with his white moustache, spoke for the first time.

"Had you ever seen these men before?" he asked me, and my eyes went slowly to him. This was the part where I lied.

"No," I said in a small voice.

"Could you describe what they looked like?" he asked again, and I took a deep breath, putting my thoughts in order.

"They had masks..." I said again, stating I couldn't really say how they looked like since I never saw their faces. Well, that wasn't really true, but for that brief moment, it was.

"Yeah, I know," the man said in his old and very low voice. "But how many were they? What were they wearing?"

"There were six or seven of them. They were dressed in dark colors... Everything happened so fast, I didn't really get to see anything else," I replied, and the eldest nodded as the younger one sighed before writing everything on his little paper. "Don't you have the surveillance camera tape anyway?" I asked myself. Both cops looked at me with a raised eyebrow.

"Of course we do, young lady, but we still need to know what you remember happening," the eldest explained, and I simply nodded. "Well, if you remember something, anything that could help us, don't hesitate to give us a call," he told me after a moment. I nodded slowly and watched them walk out the door. My mom came towards me and passed a hand through my hair. She became more affectionate after I nearly died.

"Don't worry, honey, they'll find them," she assured me. I did my best to smile, though I wasn't feeling very well about this. I knew maybe the right thing to do would have been to tell the police the truth, but I couldn't bring myself to betray the guys like this. Yes, what they did was wrong, incredibly wrong, and I didn't want to have anything to do with them again, but I had grown too close to some of them to sell them to the cops. As crazy as it sounds, those past months made me realise a lot of things about me, mostly because of the guys, and my way of seeing things changed as well. I no longer felt alone, nor unwanted. I felt stronger as a person, like I could decide for myself and be respected if I stayed true to what I believe in. They almost killed me but I couldn't do this to them, I owed them that much.

Later that night, Emily came to visit me. She had been calling me none stop since the shooting, but I didn't have my phone with me, so I couldn't pick up. It's when I had called Ronnie to tell him I wouldn't be going to work for a while since I had been shot that Emily learned what happened and came straight to the hospital to see how I was doing.

"Holy shit, Sarah, you look horrible," she said, sitting on the chair next to my bed. We hadn't spoken in four days and that's the first thing she told me. Great.

"Thanks, Em," I replied sarcastically, and she laughed softly before growing serious again.

"Sorry, but you're pretty messed up," she explained, and I passed my hand in my hair trying to cover my face a little. After waking up, I had figured out my left eyebrow was cut and had to have stitches, and I figured it was probably bruised up as well. Doctor said it happened when I passed out after being hit and banged my head to the floor. My lip was also a little bit open, since I had bitten it until it bled because of the pain. After a couple of days, it must have been a dark red and blue color that could only look disgusting. Both wounds hurt, but it was nothing compared to my shoulder.

"That's what happens when you get shot," I replied, and Emily frowned. She brought her hands closer to me, obviously wondering if she should take my hand or caress my arm in support. I didn't really like physic contact that much, so I brought my hands together on my belly and smiled sadly at her, and she seemed to understand.

"I freaked out when Ronnie told me," she finally said after a moment. "Why didn't you call me before?" she asked.

"I was passed out," I defended, and she nodded in comprehension. "I called Ronnie first, knowing he'd tell you and you'll be here in no time," I added, and we both laughed softly.

"Of course I'm here, you're my best friend," she answered, smiling at me. I felt a warm feeling in my chest, happy to be hearing those words. It had been quite a while since someone told me this.

"I'm happy you're by my side," I said, and surprisingly took her hand. She seemed surprised as well, but squeezed mine after a moment and I realised it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be.

"Who did this to you?" she asked after a moment. I bit on my lip, then stop immediately when I realised it hurt like a bitch, and looked away instead. Should I tell Emily? She was part of all this after all, and Tommy was her boyfriend... I took a deep breath and turned back to her, but before I could speak, she continued talking. "I mean, if you could remember some details, maybe we could track them, and the guys would beat the shit outta them. I swear, these motherfuckers will pay for what they did to you."

"It was them, Emily," I interrupted her, and she stopped talking, looking at me with a confused expression. She raised an eyebrow, but I still didn't say anything, I just kept a serious face as she wondered what I meant.

"Them? Who are you-" she started, but stopped immediately, comprehension hitting her. Her eyes widened and she backed her hand away from me, swallowing difficultly. "You mean, it was..." she interrupted herself again, unable to finish her sentence.

"The Darley gang," I confirmed, looking around me to make sure no one could hear us. We were both alone in my hospital room, so I assumed we were safe.

She swallowed again, obviously not knowing what to say. She looked away from me, taking as deep breath as she seemed to control her emotions, though it wasn't working out very well. Soon, tears formed in her eyes and she pressed her lips together, trying to hold it in.

"But how could they... How could they do this to you?" she exclaimed, still not looking at me. "Why did you let them do this to you?"

"They didn't see me," I replied, also almost crying just by looking at her. She had been hanging out with them long before I did, and I could understand it was hard for her to admit her boyfriend and his buddies almost killed me. My comment brought her eyes back on me.

"But why didn't they? Why didn't you show yourself? They would have never shot you if they knew it was you!" she shouted, and I glanced back at the door, afraid someone might come if they heard her talk this loud.

"Everything happened fast, I-I was scared they'd shoot before they truly saw me," I tried to justify, but it didn't seem to be enough for her.

"Oh my god, Sarah, you are so fucking stupid," she exclaimed, placing her head in her hands, her elbows resting on the side of the bed. My mouth dropped, realising this was the meanest thing Emily had ever told me.

"Well fuck you Emily! I would have liked to see you there in my place, seeing some old dude die right in front of you and then be shot by your best friend's boyfriend!" I replied in a breath and Emily' head raised instantly, her wide eyes glued to mine.

"What?" she demanded in a small voice. I hesitated a second, knowing this wasn't the way I had been planning to tell Emily what happened exactly. "It was..."

"Tommy, yeah," I confirmed, and she didn't move for a minute before she sighed deeply. I frowned, knowing this was hurting her more than I could ever imagine. It's not every day you learn your boyfriend shot your best friend.

"But Billy asked him to," I justified. "Tommy had no other choice."

Emily sighed again, and went back to placing her head in her hands.

"Oh my god," she whispered before sniffing, obviously fighting to cry again. "Did you tell the police?" she asked suddenly, looking back up at me with tears slowly falling down her cheeks. I shook my head and she seemed a little less worried, but still devastated. "I can't believe they did this..." she added, more talking to herself than to me, so I didn't answer anything.

We stayed there a moment, me looking at the wall in front of me, and Emily with her eyes closed with her hands pressed on her eyelids.

"I'm gonna break up with Tommy," Emily announced, breaking the silence. I slowly turned my head to her as she roughly scrubbed the tears off her face and tried to put the most nonchalant expression she could find.

"You don't have to do this, Em," I replied softly, but she shook her head, ignoring me.

"Yes, I do. This has been going on for too long," she justified, and I sighed, knowing she was lying to herself.

"But you love him," I defended. She looked at me with an upset expression and passed a nervous hand through her hair.

"May I remind you he shot you, Sarah," she spat, doing her best at controlling her obvious impatience towards my understanding of her feelings.

"I know that, but he didn't mean to," I answered, knowing that was only half true. He did want to shoot towards me; he just didn't know it was me... Did that make it okay? I doubt it. "You don't have to leave him for me."

"Not only for you. I'm doing it for me too. I won't date a killer," she explained.

"I'm still alive," I corrected, raising my hands in the air to show myself. Emily cracked a smile, but I could tell it wasn't a real one. The sadness in her eyes was too present to be ignored.

"At least you are, yeah. I would have killed him myself if you had died," she commented, and I grabbed her hand again.

"You wouldn't have known it was him if I had died," I corrected again, and she sighed. She squeezed my hand and another silence came over us. Emily was biting her lip and frowned, so I could tell she had mixed feelings about the situation, and I didn't want to pick a side. It was her decision, even if somewhere in the equation I had made a considerable difference.

"I think I'm just gonna... say I need time," she commented, and I nodded, feeling it was the best thing to do.

"But don't tell him why," I asked, and she raised an eyebrow at me. "I don't want them to know," I explained.

"You don't want them to know they nearly killed you?" she exclaimed, looking at me like I was going mental.

"No. It'll just be better that way," I confirmed. She shook her head in disbelief, not knowing what to say. "Let's hope I just won't have to talk to them again," I added. Half of me agreed with what I said, and the other half just didn't know what to think. I mean, I knew they wouldn't have shot in my direction if they knew it was me, but that didn't make it okay. There was a baby with me, people I cared about. Even if it hadn't been me, it could have been some other girl with a family, people that loved her and cared for her. They wouldn't have mind to kill her, just like they didn't mind killing me not knowing who I was. But I couldn't help but think of Joe, who probably wasn't even there because he wasn't in the gang. It was hard to think I might never see him again. And Bodie, he was always nice to me. I knew he had a heart, I knew he wasn't all bad. And Billy... Billy just broke my heart. He was a complete heartless asshole, a killer and a gang lord on one side. And he was a caring, overprotective, funny attractive hottie on the other side. I hated the first one, and loved the other. I couldn't be near him, or I'd break. I had to face the fact it was better not to see him again either.

"Easy for you to say," Emily commented, taking me out of my dark thoughts. "I'll have to see Tommy, that's for sure."

"Please, promise me you won't tell them," I pleaded to her, squeezing her hand as I did so. She bit her lip again, staring at me with sad eyes.

"Fine," she finally agreed, and I smiled weakly at her, satisfied. She smiled back, but I knew her heart wasn't into it.

"We'll get through this," I assured her, trying to convince myself as well. She sighed and patted my hand without much enthusiasm.

"Let's hope so."