Brick
Chapter Two: Alone
Author's Note: Sorry the last chapter was so short; I'm still new to the wonderful world of fanfics. (Cheesy? You bet!) Anyway, please R/R. Thanks!
Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own the Harry Potter characters. Nor do I own the lyrics to the Ben Folds Five song, "Brick."
Now that I have found someone
I'm feeling more alone
Than I ever have before
Several weeks after Hermione announced that she was sick, she was admitted to a wizard hospital close to the Burrow. Ron promised to visit her every day, as he had not yet found a job.
Eventually, Ron knew he would have to break his promise. The pain from daily treatments and medications caused Hermione to be irritable, tired, and weak. He knew she was getting worse with each passing day. He knew he should've been positive, a beacon of hope, as his father would say. But he knew…he knew when he looked into her eyes. She would be leaving him. And he had never felt more alone than when he looked into those empty, lifeless eyes.
Ron entered her hospital room one evening to find her sitting up in bed, fully awake. He smiled at the small improvement. Crossing the room in three strides, he kissed her forehead lightly before settling himself in the rather uncomfortable plastic chair by the window.
"Miss Granger, your dinner is ready!" A plump nurse with short black hair entered the room, carrying a large dinner tray piled with unidentifiable amounts of cafeteria food.
Hermione forced a smile. "Y…yummy," she mumbled, her face slightly green. Ron looked at the contents of the tray. Something smelly that resembled steak, petrified mashed potatoes, and jello sprinkled with…what was that? Red hots?
"Not too bad," he exclaimed, accepting the tray from the nurse, who promptly left.
Hermione took one look at the food and shoved the tray aside, her delicate fingers making Ron's stomach drop. She's so thin, he thought, looking at her. He quickly turned his attention back to the food- he wanted Hermione to eat something, anything.
"Aw, come on, 'Mione, this is quality stuff," he said slyly, waving the jello dish under her nose.
Hermione's eyes widened, and without warning, she threw up. Hastily Ron attempted to throw the jello dish back onto the tray. It missed and landed on the floor with a clatter.
"Bloody hell, I'm so sorry!" he mumbled, his eyes wide in alarm as he managed to clean her up with a large napkin. "Can I get you anything?"
Hermione shook her head. Her breathing was shallow and her eyes were bloodshot. Cold sweat was forming on her forehead.
"Oh my God! You look terrible!"
"Thanks," she wheezed sarcastically, clutching the bed sheet closer to her thin, limp form. She shivered violently before turning on her side.
"I'm sorry," he whispered.
"Me too."
The impact of those simple words made Ron burst into tears. Oh my God, you're giving up on her, he thought to himself. Turn around so she won't see you. No use making her upset. But after he'd calmed down, he realized he hadn't been the only one crying. Hermione's sniffles made him turn around. Silent tears poured down her cheeks. "I don't want to die!" She sobbed, writhing in pain.
Once again, Ron had never felt more alone.