^^^Why hello, Sebastian!!!^^^

Hello, the rest of you beautiful people as well!!

This chapter is dedicated to  @awkwardxfreak  ~ make sure to go check out Shattered!

My head throbbed as I tried opening my eyes. "Ugh," I groaned once the glaring florescent light above came into focus.

Everything around me was moving. Swaying. Shifting. The stark white ceiling. The drab tan walls. The small table to the side. Nothing would stand still and the harder I tried to make it stop, the more I wanted to close my eyes again.

"Look, Steph, at who's finally waking up," said Robin. Her voice, the usual loud and obnoxious, was amplified tenfold.

I pressed my palms to my temples to keep the pain at bay. What good that did as a wave of dizziness crashed over me. "Why are you yelling?"

"She wasn't yelling. You're just hungover." My oldest sister, Stephanie forced a laugh at my expense.

Glad she thought this was funny.

Clenching my eyes shut a few times seemed to have done the trick. "Where am I?" I asked, grimacing at the rancid taste in my mouth.

Gum. I needed gum ASAP. Or mouthwash.

It wasn't even a second later when Robin came into view and smacked me across my cheek. The searing pain radiated from below my left eye to right above the jawline. She got me good.

"What the—" I started but was cut off by Robin cupping her hand over my mouth to keep me from saying the F word.

"You're in the hospital." Robin's hand remained on my lips as she continued, "And damn lucky to be still alive."

I shoved her hand away, spotting the IV tugging at my arm with the yellowish liquid pumping through it. A quick peek at my attire, and I sported a scratchy gray hospital gown and some stupid ass yellow socks. "What are you even talking about? Why am I here?" I paused and glanced at Stephanie all curled up in a recliner beside the bed I currently occupied. "And why are you even here?"

Stephanie, my twenty-three-year-old sister and current grad student at Northwestern University, had been away at school for almost a year. She didn't even come home for this past Christmas or Thanksgiving. So seeing her here, now, was a bit of a shock.

She sat upright in the chair and gave me a pointed stare.

"Well, I'd still be at school if you didn't decide to get drunk off your ass last night and drive your truck straight into a tree." She shook her head a few times with a perfect scowl in place. "Mom thinks it's a cry for help or some bullshit like that."

One thing my dear, bitch of a sister hated was to be bothered. Ever. With family. With friends. Wth life in general. With anyone or anything other than school and her girlfriend of three years, Darcy.

"Sorry you had to come all this way," I sneered, and she flipped me off. About the norm for our limited interactions.

"You need to call Mom and let her know he's awake before the sheriff stops back by to check in on him," she said in a huff to Robin before flopping herself back into the oversized chair.

"Oh, yeah." Robin scrambled, yanking her phone out and dialed. She cocked an eyebrow in my direction as she turned it on speaker phone. It rang once. Twice. On the third ring, my mom picked up.

"This is Doctor Birch."

"Hi, Mom." Robin paused for a dramatic effect and smirked as I shifted uncomfortably in this damn hospital bed. It was about three inches short, and my lower legs hung off the end. My bandaged right knee showed the aftermath of some blood as it seeped through the white gauze. Along with the fact that I couldn't roll over on my left side without wincing. My shoulder and upper arm were in some sling that made it nearly impossible to move.

"Is he awake?" came my mother's rushed voice through the phone.

"Yep. And Sherriff Atkins stopped by. So you better hurry up here," Robin replied and motioned for Stephanie to shut the door.

"I'm on my way. I've got Chris Ryan with me. If he shows up before I get there, do not under any circumstances let him talk to Sebastian."

"I'll handle it if need be," Stephanie said, loud enough from across the room. A slow grin settled on her lips, signaling her readiness.

Well, I did have to admit, having her for a sister did have one advantage. No one messed with the likes of Stephanie Birch. Witty as she was bitchy, she possessed a raw talent of talking circles around others. Armed with an arsenal of scathing comebacks and an expert at backhanded compliments, she was a force for certain.

"Good. I'll be there as soon as I can." And with that, my mother ended the call.

The three of us sat there in silence for the next few minutes. Robin busied herself with her phone. Undoubtedly, sending out a mass text to let Matt, Tabby and everyone else know I was awake. Stephanie kept admiring her manicured fingers, holding them out at arm's length and seemed oblivious to anything else.

But that was Stephanie. The center of her universe, and unless it was all about her, it didn't much matter.

The door opened, admitting my mother, with her long red hair pulled back from her face and wearing the same clothes she had on last night. She didn't immediately say anything to anyone. Instead, her weary eyes stayed peeled to the monitor, displaying my pulse, heart rate, and oxygen levels.

"Sebastian Fitzwilliam Birch, what you did was unacceptable!" my mother said, her tone low, even and warning. "I cannot believe you would do something as stupid and as thoughtless as..."

I gulped. "I know." The appropriate response of "I'm sorry" needed to be said as well, only I didn't remember half of last night. Yes, I got drunk. Yes, I was stupid. Yes, my reasoning was a little f'd up, but still a good one nonetheless.

My best friend died. His parents, dead. The girl that I loved was gone.

Considering I had never given her an ounce of trouble, was a straight A student and all I did was pretty much play basketball 24/7, she needed to cut me a little slack. Just this once.

Mom finally glanced at me. Her eyes, glistening with wetness, conveyed so much more disappointment than I ever thought possible. "No, you don't know. You have no idea." She crossed her arms over her chest and turned to my sisters. "I need to talk to him, alone, please."

Robin rose from her chair and offered me a half grimace, half smile. She'd been on the receiving end of enough talks over the years to expect some extreme punishment in my immediate future. Stephanie didn't even bother looking my way and stomped from the room as if it was some huge imposition.

The door closed and my mom went into full doctor mode. Her fingers prodded at the IV and the point of entry. "This will need to be changed. It looks like you've blown a vein."

That probably explained the swelling and the tenderness when she pressed over and over again on my hand. But it was fine. I could handle a little pain. No problem.

She proceeded to remove my sling and attempted to straighten my arm.

"Ow!" I cringed and turned my head to the side to keep from seeing as she tried rotating my shoulder.

"Yep. Clavicle is broken all right." She cleared her throat and repositioned my arm once again. "It will take a couple of weeks to heal and then you're looking at a month of physical therapy at least."

"Great," I murmured. Well, I guess it was a good thing, basketball was over for the year.

She forced my head back onto the pillow and used the ophthalmoscope she pulled from coat pocket to shine into one of my eyes and then the other. "It looks like there isn't any permanent damage. But you're going to look and feel like crap for the funerals."

Funerals. My stomach dropped at how my mom pronounced the word with such finality.

By the way she kept pressing all the scratches and what I could only suppose were a few bruises on my face, I must have looked like shit.

It took a few moments to force my voice around the lump in my throat. "When are they?"

"Chris and Sarah, Tonya's sister decided to have the funerals together." She whipped around, forcing a smile. The same way she did whenever having to discuss something she'd rather not. "We'll know more after we go to the funeral home later today, but I guess that the service for the three of them will be on Wednesday."

Wait. Did she just say three? Didn't she mean four?

"Three?" I asked.

Mom placed a hand on my cheek and patted lightly. "Yes. Three." This time she smiled and the genuineness of it had me wondering. "Shelby is alive."

_______________________________________

Wooohhhh... We are almost out of the woods (a little). 

I wonder how Sebastian is going to react???

Please remember to comment and vote!!! It makes us smile. :)

Also if you could please go check out our new story The Blood Reader, and let us know what you think.

See you all next week. XOXO