Heartbreak Warfare :: Chapter Thirteen

Hope stumbled through her front door, terrified of what she was about to find. Her heart had been pounding against her sternum ever since Steve had called her. The living room was trashed. Couch cushions, throw pillows, and picture frames were scattered about. Chairs were over turned, lamps were on the floor, and the coffee table was broken in two.

"Steve?!" Hope shrieked, her panic level rising.

"In here!" Steve called out from the kitchen.

Hope sprinted, almost slipping on the trail of blood that trailed into the kitchen. She pushed the door open to find Bo unconscious on the floor with Steve hovering over him.

Hope's hand found her forehead as she sank back at the sight, "What have you done?"

"I don't know, Hope," Steve was dumbfounded, "We were just hanging out. He was feeling great. We had a couple of beers."

"You gave him alcohol?!" Hope screamed, "Oh my God, is he breathing?"

"He's breathing." Steve nodded, "You didn't tell me not to give him alcohol. Is there something I don't know? He just passed out, he was awake when I called."

"Call 911," Hope ordered, "Now, dammit. Call them now."

Steve ran into the living room to grab his cell phone.

Hope leaned over Bo. His breathing was shallow, his pulse was slow, and his knuckles were bloody.

"Oh my God, Bo…" Hope cried, panic-stricken for his life.

"Okay, they're coming." Steve reappeared, "You mind telling me what the hell is going on?"

Hope was hysterical. She couldn't even look at Steve.

"Bo, please…." Hope pleaded, "Please… wake up. Don't do this."

She stared at his chest, willing it to keep breathing. He survived years of captivity and torture. He couldn't give up now. She just got him back. Her heart raced. She wrapped one of his hands in both of hers, sobbing into his chest.

Steve ran a hand through his hair, a sick feeling washing over him. He felt responsible, but what hurt him more was that he felt like he'd let his brother down. He could hear the sirens. The closer they got, the better he felt.

Hope had left the front door open in her haste, making it easy for the paramedics to enter the scene. Steve rushed out, holding the kitchen door open, "In here! In here!"

Steve pulled Hope away from Bo's body kicking and screaming. He wrapped his arms under her armpits and across her chest from behind, securing her to his chest as she sobbed. The paramedics did their job quickly.

Hope couldn't hear much of their jargon. She was too busy fighting Steve. She wasn't even really sure why she was resisting his restraint. She was furious. She had anxiety. She was scared. Tears cascaded down her flushed cheeks as she continued to attempt getting out of Steve's hold. She didn't need his comfort. She needed to be with Bo.

"Let me drive you." Steve offered, "You're in no condition to drive."

"There's no way I'm leaving him alone. He can't be alone." Hope croaked out, finally untangling herself from his hold.

"Then I'll meet you there." Steve nodded, then added, "Hope, I had no idea that something big was happening here. I'm sorry."

She stared at him. She was speechless. Her head spun. She couldn't formulate the words to tell him what was happening. She couldn't find the forgiveness in her irrational thought process to tell him everything was okay, that is wasn't his fault, "I'll tell you at the hospital."

"If one of you are riding with us, we've gotta get moving." One paramedic called. Bo was on a stretcher and they were up and moving. Hope followed with Steve not too far behind. The front door of the house was slammed shut, lock forgotten, and the mess left behind.