Rachel's P.O.V

I saw Adam, tubes sticking out of his body. He looked so ill. So pale. My eyes watered up.

"Can you leave me alone with him?" I asked, sitting down in the chair beside Adam.

"Of course," the doctor said, leaving.

"Adam," I started, eyes blurry form the tears. "What were you thinking? That bullet was meant for me! You shouldn't have done it. It should be me here." I stopped with the lecturing and broke into a crying fit.

"Please be okay!" I choked out. "I'll stop replacing your whipped cream with shaving cream! I won't burp at the table, I won't wake you up by calling you or popping up at your house at five in the morning just to say hi, I'll eat my vegetables, I won't doubt your I.Q, I'll even stop stealing all your boxers, even if they're super comfy!" I exclaimed.

I buried my face in his chest, and started crying. It seemed as if his eyes fluttered when I looked up, but like I said, my eyes were so blurry from the tears, I couldn't tell.

"Adam, I love you, please be okay! I don't know what I'd do if you left, if you weren't there. Who's going to be there to save me when I attempt to bungee-jump off my roof, and I forget the cord? Or if I get sent to juvy thanks to grumpy old Mr. Burns? Please, please, please, please, please, please, please, don't die!!! I need you! I always have and I always will! Adam," I cried.

The doctor walked back in.

A nurse followed.

"Sorry, I'm going to have to ask you to leave, we have to perform some exams on the patient," the nurse told me.

"Okay," I sniffled, too depressed to argue.

I left and pressed my back to the wall. I sank down to my knees, and put my head into my hands. I cried like there was no tomorrow. With all that was happening, I sort of wished there was no tomorrow for me.

Adam's P.O.V

I couldn't move. Not a single body part. My breathing is labored. But I don't care. As long as Rachel is okay, it's all worth it. I was aware of my surroundings. If someone walked in, I knew. If they talked to me, I could hear every last word they said. Every single time someone walked in, I hope it was Rachel.

It never was.

I heard the door open, and someone walked over and sat down next to me.

"Can you leave me alone with him?" I heard someone ask.

'Rachel!' I thought happily. 'She came!' I did an internal happy dance. Even that hurt. Everything hurt, especially my chest. Well, that's normal, considering I took a bullet to the chest.

"Of course," the doctor said, most likely leaving.

"Adam," she started. "What were you thinking? That bullet was meant for me! You shouldn't have done it. It should be me here." She said, stopping. Then she started crying. Crying for me. I felt so shitty. I just wanted to grab her, and take her in my arms and comfort her. But I couldn't even move. All I could do was lay there helplessly. This sucks.

Please be okay!" she choked out. "I'll stop replacing your whipped cream with shaving cream! I won't burp at the table, I won't wake you up by calling you or popping up at your house at five in the morning just to say hi, I'll eat my vegetables, I won't doubt your I.Q, I'll even stop stealing all your boxers, even if they're super comfy!" she exclaimed

She buried her face in my chest and started crying again. 

"Adam, I love you, please be okay! I don't know what I'd do if you left, if you weren't there. Who's going to be there to save me when I attempt to bungee-jump off my roof, and I forget the cord? Or if I get sent to juvy thanks to grumpy old Mr. Burns? Please, please, please, please, please, please, please, don't die!!! I need you! I always have and I always will! Adam," she cried.

'She loves me? Yes, Adam, she does. As a friend. Which is how I love her.' I tried to tell myself. I even believed it.

The doctor and a nurse, I think, walked back in, and told her to leave.

They started putting needles through me.

"Did you hear what she was telling him?" the nurse asked the doctor.

"Yes, and I now see for myself that it is true. She does love him more than she wants to admit, or realize." He answered.

'Wow, these people are nosy but, is it true?' I couldn't help but think.

"It's not looking good for him, though," the nurse said. "I don't think he'll make it."

"I do," the doctor said. "He's young, and strong, he'll make it."

'I hope he's right. How else will I ever find out if I truly do love Rachel in that way?' I thought.