Author's Note: I feel so shy having not written Ian and Erin for about two years now. Please let me know if they are a little rusty- being that they are my favorite characters, I really hope they aren't, though. Enjoy, and please review!
"It's very touch and go right now, Mr. Mckinley. Just go home."
They kept saying that. Over and over they told him to go home, to get a shower, to eat something…But how could he go home without her? How could he shower when she wasn't wrapped in a towel afterwards next to him? How could he eat something when she must be starving? He fought them tooth and nail to stay with her; to spend the night by her bedside, and finally they had relented and let him. They began with more bull, though. They tried to tell him that she couldn't hear him; that he was wasting his time, and he had gone off on them. He had screamed that she could hear him, that it wasn't anything short of worth his time to spend it all with her, and be there when she wakes up. Of course, though, his outburst had gotten him kicked out, and he had been forced to leave the hospital.
He was home now, alone. He shrugged off his heavy black jacket, the safety pins clanking to the floor in a heap. He kicked off his converse, tossing them in the corner of the room and removing his grey T-shirt. He flopped down on his bed, wincing in pain as he pulled the remote control out from under his back. He turned on his TV and then turned off his lamplight, watching the colors and light on the channel he had on, but keeping the volume down. All he needed right now was the distraction of light, not sound. It was his eyes that needed averting because every time he closed them he saw her again; he saw the accident. He watched the nails shoot through her once more, puncturing her shoulder, her neck. There were pieces inside of him that wondered if her being out of this misery would be better for her; he didn't want her lying in a hospital bed suffering.
There was another, larger part of him though, that acknowledged God for once and thanked Him for sparing Erin's life…Thus far, anyway. Ian knew that the accident had been brutal; that it may not be able to be reversed. He was painfully aware that even the nail grazing her brain could cause her to forget him. When she woke up, she may react poorly, and die despite their efforts…Or, she could live and not know him, and who they are to one another. Or, what Ian hoped for the most, she could wake and everything would go back to normal. He could take her home and nurse her back to health with kisses and chicken noodle soup, but he knew this wasn't the common cold. He knew it wasn't going to be fixed in a day, even if she did wake up tomorrow with no complications.
Ian feared for her life, still. He clutched the pillow she always slept on tightly in his fist, a piece of it anyway. He held it tight, so tight that he only let go when his hand went numb. Resting his hand on his chest, the smell he had gathered in his fist filled his nostrils, and he smelled her. He smelled her absolutely lovely, sweet scent. It was then that tears stung at his eyes. He couldn't be left with only a pillow; a smell that would only linger for so long. He needed to her wake-up; he needed her to come back home, to their apartment and their life. He needed his Pip. The truth was, he felt incomplete without her. There was a gaping hole in his chest that these past few days had only made wider and wider.
He felt like he could explode with anger, bitterness, or sadness at any given second. His heart hammered in his chest at all times with fear, anxiety, worry, and rage. It was difficult to try and stay calm for her, but he knew she would want him to. If she were with him right now, she would be laughing at his shaking, telling him to cut it out. She was always the one that told him when he was being melodramatic, which he found funny since he thought that usually girls were told that, not guys. He supposed he was a bit of a worrier, though, when it came to her. How couldn't he be, though? She was his life, his air, his everything. She was the reason he smiled instead of scowled, and the reason he lived to be a better man instead of average. He worked hard to make a life for her that they could call their own; that she could feel secure in. Yet, he hadn't been able to keep her safe. He felt like a failure.
He rolled over onto his side and closed his eyes slowly, giving in to sleep. In the darkness, though, with the TV long forgotten in the background, he whispered her name, and assured her that he would keep her side of the bed warm until she came home. Before he completely succumbed to sleep, he added softly: "Please come home."
Author's Note: So that is where we are so far...Poor Ian I can't give away my plans for this story, but I hope you all will review and follow it to find out all the little details. In this story, by the way, Ian and Erin are living together by the time the deaths begin happening. You will see all of those explanations in the next few chapters, but I wanted to make sure there was no confusion. I hope you all enjoyed, I am so happy to be writing them again! I will update soon if you all like it!