AN: This chapter is really short. More of a filler than anything. Sorry, but the last one was extremely long. So you're welcome for that.

Chapter 5

If the waiting room didn't kill Emma, the dark cloud of doom surrounding Dare Cassidy just might. The bleach blonde hair and leather identified him as the infamous rock star he was, but the worry twisting his face with concern was a staunch reminder that he was only human and an utter wreck over his little brother's hospitalization. It was almost five a.m. Neal had been out of a successful surgery for a few hours now, but he was still sleeping off the anesthesia.

"Why won't they let us in to see him? David asked for the twentieth time. "I just want to see him."

"He needs his rest," Lacey said. "That's all." She produced a lion-sized yawn and scrubbed her face with both hands.

"It's not like I'm going to yank him out of the hospital bed and take him for a cruise down the Vegas strip. I just want to see hi. To know he's still fucking breathing."

Emma patted the back of David's hand. She understood all too well what David was feeling. Not that the blonde could express it. Every time she opened her mouth to tell David how it had felt to sit in a hospital waiting room while a loved one's life was in the hands of strangers, the white walls seemed to close in on her, and a paralyzing anguish stole her breath. David didn't need to hear that, and Emma didn't want to revisit it, so she just patted the back of David's hand every so often, hoping that he somehow realized that Emma was there to support him. She owed David her success—her entire livelihood.

None of her band mates knew how David had helped her become a part of Sinners. It had been David who had arranged Emma's audition with the band. David who had talked Neal into having the Sinners' original bassist, Millie, fired for drug abuse. David who had invented that bullshit story about Emma being considered as a replacement for Peter—The Lost Boys' bassist. Peter had never considered quitting The Lost Boys. It had been a setup. David claimed to have intervened because it was best for his little brother's band. The dude had a strong protective instinct when it came to Neal. Emma wondered if Neal realized how much his older brother cared about him, and how it would feel to have someone love you that much.

"I'm about to crash," Lacey said. "When is August supposed to get here and give us a break?"

"In a few hours," Emma said.

"You can go, Lacey," David said. "You've done enough for him."

Lacey smiled and then jumped to her feet. "I'm not pussing out now. Who needs coffee?"

"Yeah," David said absently.

"I'll take a cup," Emma said. She expected Lacey to twist her words into a barb, but she headed out of the room to find another dose of caffeine. Emma decided Lacey must be completely exhausted if she'd given up on wisecracks.

"I didn't talk to him about August." David said.

Emma looked at him in question. "What about August?"

"I should have talked to him. I should have checked on him to make sure he was okay."

Another thing Emma completely understood. A case of the "should haves." I should have never stolen that car. I should have pushed Henry away. I should have never climbed out that window. I should have never been born.

"I should have talked him into going to the doctor sooner," David said.

"We tried to talk him into going to the doctor, David," Emma said.

"But he listens to me." David stroked his eyebrow with his middle finger. "Sometimes."

"We should have insisted. We knew he was hurt," Emma said.

More should haves.

Lacey returned with three Styrofoam cups between her long fingers. "What are you two grumbling about?" She handed a cup to David and then one to Emma, before taking a sip of her own.

"We should have gotten Neal help sooner," David said.

"Well we didn't. Now we have to deal with the consequences. No sense in beating yourself up over things you can't change. You have to make the best of the current situation," Lacey said.

"The current situation blows," David said.

Emma patted David's hand again. She understood. She still beat herself up over things she couldn't change years after they occurred. She couldn't imagine ever letting that guilt go.