Sleep is good, she said, and books are better.
-George R. R. Martin

"I was six the first time I caught something I shouldn't have, and that was a squirrel. The second time I was nine, and it was a dog. The dog was fine around me, it gave me kisses. My uncle is horrible with animals, always have been. They simply hate him. When he saw me with the wild thing he freaked out, which freaked the dog out. I got bit and Aunt Jessie was the only one that cried. 

"The last time I was thirteen, and I was on a school trip to a live bug collection. I was instantly attracted to the bright green, yellow and blue ones, the most flashy fuzzy grotesque ones. My teacher warned me that often, the most colorful insects were the most venomous ones and the things that ate them sometimes died. 

"I'm seventeen, and once I saw your mint green eyes, flashing mop of tawny gold hair and bright smile I realize my teacher was right. You are dangerous, but you know what? Fuck me, because I disregard that completely and fell in love with you. But fuck you for not loving me back." I, of course, didn't tell Asher this. 

I wanted to, but he was sleeping peacefully in his bed and I was on his couch, unimportant as always. 

My words didn't need to be heard, even if after all these years I need someone to listen. 

I was so, so okay with being alone...but now because of that fucking golden boy I can't be anymore. 

I'm lonely. 

Loneliness.

Tsk.

It sucks, because I never used to be lonely when I was alone. 

Books kept me company.

Now they're not such good conversation starters.

A few hours later Asher wakes up, and I only know this because the smell of bacon over comes my groggy state. That and the smell of hot chocolate...then coffee.

Coffee!

I race to the kitchen, straight to the coffee and pour myself a cup. 

Warmth fills my unusually cold body, and I frown.

I'm never cold.

"I can't get over how a few months ago I wanted to know your name, and now you're in my apartment making breakfast in my sweatshirt." I pause blowing on the hot liquid, looking up at the sound of Asher's voice. 

"You said I could wear it...is this not okay?" I ask slowly, no longer confident standing in front of him.

"What? I, no -it's just, you're fine. Yeah." He turns red, making me frown. "You just look good." 

I roll my eyes. "Don't lie, just to make me feel better. It's okay that you don't like me back Gold, nobody can tell you any differently." I say, looking away from him. 

He says silent, and suddenly I crave a book. 

I want to escape again.

I know Asher knows that since he practically kidnapped me, made me go home with him, then drop me off as if nothing happened I'm avoiding him. 

It's been way too stressful, my medicine stopped working completely so I stopped taking it all together. 

My dad already set up a doctors appointment but I'm barely getting any sleep. 

One of my parents, or Xander since he's home from a college break, was in my room every single morning waking me up from a nightmare. 

Seeing the bags under their eyes I started just not sleeping, not until my body forced me to. 

I didn't sleep from Sunday down to Tuesday, then crashed late Wednesday. 

I slept the entire day of Thursday and missed school, which I hate. 

But now it's Tuesday and I haven't slept since Friday, and I can barely walk straight. 

Mint green eyes are stuck on my frame as I clench the table, refusing to sit next to him but desperately trying to not pass out. 

"Hey Blue," He says, my body shakes as I look at him. "You don't look so good." 

"I noticed." I grit out, pain blossoming in my school. 

I've had a migraine since Sunday. 

"How long as it been since you slept." 

"Does it matter?" I snap, flinching as my raised voice makes me feel worse. "Sorry Gold, I'm not trying to take it out on you." 

Feeling my head spin my hands fumble for my phone, forgetting I'm holding myself up by the counter. This makes me slide down completely, sitting sprawled in front of the oven. 

Despite my blurry eyesight I manage to click my dad's contact. 

He answers almost immediately, knowing what state I'm in right now. 

He didn't want me coming to school but I don't want to be ruled by my nightmares. 

I want to be normal. 

"Elle what's wrong?" His deep, concerned voice floats through the air, a small bubble of safety enters me.

My parent's are fierce protectors, good people, better parents, best friend's and annoying jerks all at the same time.

"D-dad I think I'm going to pass out again." I whisper, trying to stop myself from crying. "Please come get me." 

"What class are you in, the room number?" 

"301, can you hurry?" 

"I'll run if I have to, is there anyone around you you can hand the phone to, in case you pass out?" He asks, and I wonder how he sounds so calm. 

"Um...Gold is but is that-" 

"Give it to him." My dad commands, and just from his tone I know not to argue. 

Instead I sigh, throwing it up and over the counter. 

Asher yelps as it hits him, but I'm too tired to care that it was probably his handsome face. "What the-" 

"Answer it." I tell him in the loudest voice I can. 

I don't hear him reply, or the conversation he has as my heart beat grows so loud in my head that's all I can hear. 

I desperately try to hang onto reality...but it just wants to slip away.

I groan as I wake up, the pounding behind my head so bad that I can't even see straight. 

My entire body tenses as I realize my arms are being restrained, and I hear what sounds like the familiar beep of a heart monitor go crazy. 

My door bangs open, and in walks my dad. "

Daddy-" I haven't called him that in years, but I cut myself off with a sob. 

He runs to me, quickly pulling at the restraints as his face hardens into anger. 

"They told me they wouldn't put these on you." He seethes. "I promise you're okay." 

"P-please don't make promises like that." I stammer, eyes filling with tears. "It's a lie. It's a l-lie." 

"I know Queen, just calm down okay? We'll get them off. Can you just work on calming down? Wait-" He curses again as my eyelids try to glue themselves shut, and his face gets fuzzy. "Don't close your eyes." Dad tried to tell me. 

But they're already closed.

Mint green flashes behind my eyes, and I find myself smiling.

The next time I wake up my mom is curled up on Dad's lap, him in the not so big chair beside my bed. 

Silently I sit up, shuffling quietly as I drag the IV walker behind me.

Waking up in the hospital isn't all that strange to me, as sad as that is.

I pull the heavy door open, my hands shaking as my eyes scan the wall for the one thing I want and finally find it: My chart.

Climbing back into bed I pull it into my lap.

It's thick, listing descriptions of past medical visits, problems.

I was in here for a whole eight months after all, it's bound to be extensive.

Thankfully what I really want to read is towards the top, basically describing why I'm here, and what has happened since.

A patient is not supposed to read these.

But Dr. Tate learned quickly there's nothing he can stop me from doing, even with half my ribs broken and a collapsed lung.

My heart sinks as I read this.

I fainted in class, and my heart beat wasn't all that strong but that's not shocking -I've had a heart murmur, and heart palpitations for years.

Asher must have met my dad at the doors, and Dad must have taken me to the hospital.

It says I wouldn't wake up, but started screaming like always. Delusional, shouting things in my sleep, scratching so bad I had to be restrained. I clawed at my throat that I opened the side of it and they had to patch it up.

Color drains from my face at this.

So dehydrated that they had to connect a IV tube, for blood and different things that is supposed to help me heal, stay hydrated, keep me alert and my body from craving food so much.

I've been in here since Tuesday, and now it's Friday.

Three whole days.

That's not too bad.

It's too long before a nurse comes in to check on me, but she knows me and Dr. Tate, so she just gives me a scolding look and takes the chart back.

Dr. Tate walks in next, holding that very same chart, but glaring. I glare right back.

"Wolf, I told you to never let me see you again." He scowls down at me, I return the favor.

"Yeah well it's not like I'm especially happy to see your ugly face."

"Haven't you ever heard the saying, don't be mean to your cook he'll spit in your food? Same thing with doctors," Dr. Tate tells me. "But I'll poison you instead."

Despite how mean we are to each other, I know we both appreciate each other and I'm one of his favorite patients. He's fought to treat me, and become my permanent doctor. I don't take his words to heard, instead I grin.

"How do you know if you poisoning me isn't exactly what I'm counting on?" I ask.

He smirks, flicking over a page. "Because, you don't want to die in a hospital."

"Eh," I shrug. "Throw me out on the streets after the deed is done."

"Yes Ma'am." 

Dr. Tate walks over to my IV walker, unhitches the now empty blood bag and tosses it in the medical waste bin. 

We start a conversations like we're old friends, and in a way we are -Dr. Tate even compliments my tattoo, and since it's an actual compliment I know he really likes it.

He saw the moon when it was still raw, showing my veins and muscles, he saw it scab over and the skin slowly form, he saw the scar when it first healed and he's seen the faded version. 

This man is a good one.

Even my parents like him -which is saying something.

My dad hates everyone.

Some things just never change.

"Elle." Mom calls me drowsily. "You're awake?" Her grey eyes blink rapidly at me, as if she's imagining me and trying to get me to disappear. "Holy fuck! You're awake."

"Really? Here I was, thinking I was still asleep." I reply sardonically.

Me and Dr. Tate watch in amusement as she struggles against my dad's grip with absolutely no success, then turns and bites down on his ear lobe.

Dad grunts in pain, going rigid.

"You people, I'm done here." Dr. Tate rolls his eyes, dropping the chart into my lap before slinking away to god knows where. "Check on ya later Wolf." He calls over his shoulder.

"If you can find me Anderson." I shout back, earning a faded chuckle.

"Hey," My dad blinks at me, finally having caught on after biting my mom back. Her plan totally back fired. Sucker. "You're awake."

Stupidity.

Tsk.

I groan as they share a look before practically tackling me, Mom talking so fast I can't understand a word she's saying and Dad glaring at me so hard that I find myself growling lowly at him and glaring back.

"What got your panties in a twist?" My question is more like a snarl.

"The fact that you went to school, knowing what could happen." He snarls back.

"I wanted to go."

"Well you shouldn't have."

"You're the parent, should have made me stay home."

"You're almost the adult, I shouldn't have to tell you."

"Obviously that's a lie."

"Obviously."

Our snarls pauses and his mask cracks, emotion flowing through his matching blue eyes. In a second my dad has pulled me into his chest and lets out a shuddering breath, and I'll hug him for as long as he needs me to. 

He's a affectionate person, and sometimes he just needs to know a person is there and safe.

So I let him climb into bed with me and hold me against him like I'm still that broken, barely alive twelve year old those five years ago.

Mom grabs her necklace, a smile on her face.

I know no matter how fucked up I get, how broken I become, or how awesome I may be that pierce's their soul and blinds them, I will forever be their kid, their baby wolf.

And that is perfectly fine by me.

My family will love me, even if other people can't.