Micah's POV

We were all waiting, again, behind the room where Brian was undergoing major surgery. The only problem with us going along with this procedure, is the fact that if they were to fail, we'd basically watch the same friend die for the second time. I sighed and laid down on the floor, off to the side of the hallway. There was only one thing we could do-wait. I shut everything I possibly could out of my mind, and closed my eyes. I was glad when I realized I wouldn't be haunted by another terrifying vision of Brian getting shot once I'd fallen asleep.

I continued a cycle of waking up and falling back asleep the entire night. The point of which I gave up on sleep was when it was already seven o'clock in the morning. My neck felt sore from laying on the floor all night and my headaches had come back with a vengeance. My wrists burned like hell. I stared at the still curtained window. Ten hours and they still weren't done. Either that, or they were too afraid to bring us bad news again.

The same nurse that had bandaged my wrists and head walked by again.

"You've been here all night. You want a snack, or some water?" she offered politely. Zacky and Matt were both passed out on the floor. I shook my head.

"No. I'm good," I replied with a frown. She looked down at me, her icy blue eyes filled with understanding.

"I know my job doesn't really allow me to do this, but, if you don't mind, could you tell me why you look so beaten up? Not to mention, sad?" I sighed. I did kind of mind, but it wouldn't hurt to tell her.

"I got attacked," I paused, looking to the door of the room, "and he did too." My voice was a raspy whisper.

"Do we need to call the police? Have them investigate?" she asked, worry written on her face.

"No," I said loudly, but immediately quieting down, "no. We don't." She quirked a brow at my reaction.

"If you both were attacked. And apparently, if the attack was so bad that he's been in surgery for ten hours, I think the police need to get involved," she said.

"And I said, 'no.'" I didn't want to risk telling her anything that had to do with us. Lately, I've been taught to trust no one except for the people protecting me.

"Why are you so against the idea of the police getting involved?" She started to sound irritated.

"Why are you so hellbent on getting the story?" I retorted. Another nurse walked up to her.

"What are you doing, April? As a nurse at this hospital, we expect you to respect people's privacy," she said, dragging 'April, the nosey nurse' to her feet. The other nurse, who was short with gray hair and faded hazel eyes, looked at me apologetically.

"I'm so sorry. April's a new nurse here. And she still hasn't learned to respect the rules." The last sentence was spat angrily. I was guessing that the other nurse was April's mentor. The nurse tugged April a little farther away from me, just inside of earshot. I could hear them shoot whispers at each other.

"You don't interrogate families and friends of patients, April. It's not acceptable. I would be surprised if the Dean of Medicine doesn't fire you by the end of the week," the nurse sneered.

"The conversation started out fine until she refused calling the police," April said.

"It's her call whether the police get involved or not. That's the state law. Learn it."

"I was just curious."

"Your curiosity could've caused her more pain than you'd like to imagine. You see this room, right here?" The nurse pointed to the room where Brian was still undergoing surgery. April took a quick glance and then glared back at her mentor.

"What of it?" There was a harsh attitude in her voice.

"They've been here all night because their friend is about to be a deadman. You better learn to respect other people, or you'll be booted on back to your homeless lifestyle," the nurse threatened. Shivers crawled up my spine at the sound of the word, 'deadman.' I couldn't stand to think of any scenario where Brian dies at the time.

"She said they were attacked. What was I supposed to suggest? Shake it off like it was nothing?"

"I don't care. You shouldn't have asked her in the first place. You should be grateful she gave you an answer at all." I started to get fed up with their conversation.

"I can hear you. But of course, keep talking about me while I can still hear you," I interrupted with biting sarcasm. April shot a glare at me but her mentor just smiled and said, "I'm sorry. I was just trying to get my student under control." I rolled my eyes and went back to staring into nowhere. All I wanted at the moment, was to know that Brian was going to be okay. But of course, everyone knows that I can't have one little happy thing happen to me without life throwing it back in my face by giving me an unfair bad situation in return. When I looked over again, the nurses had disappeared.

Thank God, I thought. I was getting tired of them babbling on about me while they were right next to me. I sighed, laying back down on the stone-cold, white, tiled floor. I had nothing to do but stare at things. I wished there were any magazines that were actually interesting to read. In hospitals, almost ninety-nine point nine percent of those magazines are about pregnancy and 'How to Be a Mom.'

After an hour or so, Zacky and Matt woke up at about the same time. None of them bothered me with any conversations or questions. They just got up and went to the cafeteria for some breakfast, leaving me alone with only my own thoughts. I honestly didn't get how it could possibly take, now eleven hours, to extract a bullet. Sure, I understood that poking around at someone's heart without a care in the world wasn't a good plan. But I found it hard to believe that, even when dealing with a sensitive organ like the heart, it would take so long to do this sort of surgery.

Aside from my worries over Brian, I began to think about why April had taken such a keen interest in me. From what I'd gathered, she had no idea about Brian being in such bad shape. Was it simply because I had odd injuries around my wrists? No. It couldn't be that plain and simple. But at the same time, it could be. Being a nurse, she'd certainly seen gloomy families and friends around the hospital before. So it couldn't have been the fact that I looked sad that she was interested in me. I shook my head and dropped the thought. There was no point in thinking about it too much. Chances were that I would never see her again.

I was hungry, but I didn't want to leave just in case, by some miracle, I would receive good news. I didn't really think it was even possible to be in surgery for more than nine hours. But I guess, by technical terms, Brian is dead. Being hooked up to a bypass pretty much means that you have a machine circulating healthy blood through an already dead body. Your body doesn't do the work. The machine does. I truthfully started to think that, this wasn't just a long shot. It was an impossible project.

Zacky and Matt came back and sat on either side of me on the rather uncomfortable bench. Zacky was drinking from a half-empty water bottle and Matt just sat there, his eyes hidden by his dark sunglasses. Patience wasn't one of my strong suits. But I knew it wouldn't help anything to bang on the door and tell the surgeons to hurry the hell up.

It wasn't until another hour had passed by before, finally, a nurse came through the door and faced us. I didn't really acknowledge her presence. It wasn't like I expected good news.

"Your friend is very lucky," was her opening statement. I looked up when I heard that. Neither Zacky, Matt, nor I said anything. So she continued.

"He's not out of the woods yet, though. The bullet shredded one of the valves. He survived the surgery but, we can tell you, that the recovery would be an even bigger struggle." We all nodded. We weren't smiling because it wasn't exactly 'good' news. But we weren't looking very depressed anymore because it also wasn't exactly 'bad' news. It was what I would call 'bittersweet news.'