Andy's POV

With pink roses in my hand and my heart pumping in my chest, I rode up the elevator to Leah's room. It took me a while to find her room through the halls, but I eventually did.

There was a long glass window, looking into the room where she was laying. Two doctors were talking over her, pointing around her head. I decided to wait until they were done to go see her.

After waiting another few minutes, one doctor shook his head and unfolded a white blanket. He gave one side to his partner and they started to fold it over Leah's body.

My heart leapt and I ran for the door, expecting to have it be locked, but it wasn't. I threw it open, my mind racing.

"What the hell is going on here?" I asked.

The doctors looked at me with wild eyes, "We- Uhh- She just- got cold..."

I glanced over at Leah. The blanket only covered up to her ribs. Embarrassed, I apologized to them and they left, closing the door behind them.

I laughed to myself, looking down at my hands. I'd clenched them together so tightly that the wrapping around her roses was crinkled. Taking one look at her, I set them on a table and sat down.

I reached over at touched her hand, which was freezing cold, "Dang, they weren't kidding," I chuckled to myself. Carefully, I lifted the blanket up further.

For a while, I just looked at her, thinking about why I was here. It's a good question, really. I don't even know why I'm here. Joe, Pete, Emily, and even Patrick haven't been here at all. It's been 8 days, today, since we lost her. Why am I the first one to come?

I reached down into my pocket and pulled out headphones, smiling at them before connecting them to my phone.

Clearing my throat, I started talking to her, "Hey, Leah. It's Andy. We've been recording some things lately and I wanted you to be the first one to hear some drums that I wanted to add in."

I placed the headphones around her silky blond hair and into her ears. Just faintly, I could hear the samples that I recorded for the new album. It was exciting, doing so many new things with the band, especially after we just got back together.

I could've swore she smiled at me, but I waved it off as imagination. The recording stopped after a while and I took a look down at my phone. I glanced up at Leah and then back down. If she were alone and awake, she'd want to hear music, actual music.

Hesitantly, I opened up my music and started playing songs off Folie á Deux. I watched her chest move up and down at a constant rate, never speeding up or slowing down.

For a second, an image flashed into my mind. It's happened many times before, but it was never so realistic. I saw Leah in the same room as she was in reality. Her breathing stopped and her heart monitor went nuts beeping. Patrick appeared and started going insane again.

The scene flashed to her funeral, where Patrick was choked up, trying to tell everyone about her. She looked so beautiful lying there. It wasn't fair. She's only 23 years old, she hasn't even seen life yet. Now, it's all being taken away.

I broke out of the episode I was in and took a sharp breath in. The tears I was fighting to hold back started falling from my eyes, down my face. The more I looked at her, the more I saw the face that was pale, dead in the casket.

I took the headphones from her ears and held them tightly, "It's kind of... hard being here again," I told her, wiping my eyes, "It was a few levels up in an emergency room when my dad died, some 30 years ago. I was 5 years old, so I don't remember much. That's the thing I hate about death, though. It comes with a giant price. You get the pain and the constant drag. You get flashbacks and dreams of the person. There's a lot of things that trigger the thought of them, and the worst is starting to forget the person."

I looked up again, realizing how much I just talked to her, "Listen to me though, I'm talking about death... Trust me, I'm pretty positive you're going to come out of this swinging. I just... wanted to get that off of my chest. I never really opened up about it to the boys."

I sighed, looking down at her hands. They were open, almost asking for someone to hold them. I looked around and locked my fingers around hers, "You reminded me of the sister and good friend that I never had. I wish we would've talked more, you seemed so friendly. I could've talked to you, the few nights that we stayed with you; but to be honest, I was a little intimidated. Not that you looked intimidated, but it was Patrick that surprised me. He'd never made a move like that on anyone, especially fans."

"I mean, the most you'd get from him was a tweet reply or something. You just kinda popped into his life. It was a little scary, how much power and effect you had on him," I admitted.

'Well?' the look on her face asked, 'You were talking about my boyfriend! Tell me how he's doing?!'.

I took another deep breath and started talking to her again, "Patrick... He misses you a lot. We all do, but of course he really wishes you were here. I've found that he's shutting everyone out. He's so lost in misery and depression and guilt-driven insanity that he doesn't realize that we're here for him. We've tried to get him to come see you, but he's not ready yet. The last time he was here, he had to be put out, the day that they questioned us. He's just... not ready."

At this point in the conversation, I realized what I was doing and felt silly. I've been talking to a girl in a coma for about 15 minutes. She can't hear me.

"Wow," I chuckled a little, "Do I feel stupid."

I stood up and walked to the door, stopping to look back at her saying, "Goodbye Leah," before I left.