She's stable.

That should mean something. It should feel like relief, like gratitude, like something other than this crushing, all-consuming nothingness. But it doesn't. Because stable doesn't change the fact that she tried. Stable doesn't erase the image of what could have been—the funeral, the black clothing, the suffocating silence of a world without her in it. It doesn't change the fact that I could be standing somewhere else right now, wondering what her last thoughts were, reading the last words she left behind—if she even left any at all.

I should have known. God, I should have known. I should have seen it. Felt it. Every late-night conversation that never happened. Every text I thought about sending but didn't. Every moment I looked at her and thought she seemed a little off, a little quieter, a little not right—but I let it go. I let myself believe it was just stress, just exhaustion, just life weighing a little too heavy for a little too long.

But it wasn't. It was something deeper. Something darker. And I had missed it.

Now, I stand outside her hospital room, my hand gripping the doorknob, my heart hammering in my chest. I don't know how to walk in there. I don't know how to look at her without seeing what she did. Without seeing the choice she almost made. Without wanting to shake her, to scream at her, to demand how the hell she could do this to me—to us.

Because it wasn't just her life on the line. It was mine, too. If she had gone, she wouldn't have been the only one buried six feet under.

I would have been right there with her.

Not physically, no. But in every way that matters. Because I don't know how to exist in a world where she doesn't. I don't know how to wake up in the morning and not have her in it. And the fact that she almost took that away from me—God, I don't even know what to do with that kind of pain.

I press my forehead against the door, squeezing my eyes shut, trying to swallow the knot in my throat. I want to be angry. I am angry. But beneath it, tangled up in all the rage and the grief and the sheer, gut-wrenching terror, there's something worse.

I'm scared.

Because she's still here. And I don't know if she wants to be.

Newt's hand lands on my shoulder, solid and reassuring. It feels strange having him here. Just yesterday, he hated my guts. Now, he's the only thing keeping me from collapsing under the weight of all this.

"Do you want me to go in with you?"

I want to say no. I want to tell him this is private, that I need to do this alone. But the truth is, I don't think I can. Not without falling apart. And Newt—he knows how to handle this. That thought alone steadies me.

I nod, just once, glancing at him for a second—just long enough for him to see how desperate I am, how lost. He'll understand. He always understands.

I push the door open after a faint knock. My parents hadn't dared to visit. The nurses told them she might act up. So I'm the first to go in, despite them warning me not to.

What kind of bullshit is that? I can't see my own sister because she might act up? Then when can I see her? When can I tell her that I'm sorry for never noticing, for never being there?

I close the door behind me, and the moment my eyes meet hers, something inside me twists painfully.

She's—gone. Not physically. But the light in her eyes, the warmth, the fire that made her Mabel—it's not there. There's nothing left but emptiness.

And God, it terrifies me.

"Don't get mad," Newt murmurs from behind me. "It'll backfire." He pats my shoulder once before slipping out of the room, leaving me alone with the hollow version of my sister.

"I tried," she chokes out before I can even say anything. "I tried so hard to resist, Kal. I swear, I—" Her voice breaks, her breath hitching, and then the tears spill over, sliding down her cheeks in silent, helpless surrender.

It's too much. It's too much.

I step forward without thinking, wrapping my arms around her, pulling her into my chest. "Hey... it's okay, Mabs. Don't cry." My voice shakes as I press my chin to the top of her head, stroking her hair. She's trembling. She's falling apart, and I don't know how to put her back together. "Don't cry, please."

"I scared everyone," she whispers, pulling back just enough to look at me. Her voice is heavy with guilt as if she believes she owes me some kind of apology. "I scared you, Sonya, Ben—"

"Ben?" My brows knit together, her words catching me off guard. "Who the hell is that?"

"It's no big deal," she mutters, wiping at her eyes with the sleeve of her hospital gown. "I doubt he'll still like me after what I did."

I inhale sharply, my chest tightening. "What you did isn't something to be ashamed of, Mabel," I tell her firmly. "If that Ben guy likes you less, then that's his loss."

"You think?" she asks hesitantly, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Oh, absolutely. Though I really don't love the fact that I've never heard about him before."

She sniffles, looking down. "I wanted to tell you, but Dad took my phone. I couldn't call."

Of course he did. Of course he fucking did.

"I'll talk to him," I say, my jaw clenching.

"You mean you'll fight him," she mumbles, shooting me a knowing look.

I don't deny it. "You'll get your phone back. And you'll get everything else you need."

"Kal, I don't want therapy," she protests, shaking her head, her expression flickering with defiance.

"Well, too bad. You need it."

"There are no good therapists in Brentwood," she argues, frustration creeping into her voice.

"Then you'll stay with me for a bit."

She hesitates at that, her fingers twisting in the thin blanket draped over her lap. Finally, she nods. I know she's only agreeing because she wants to be close to me, but I'll take that. I'll take anything if it means she gets help.

"Can I be alone..?" she asks softly, her voice fragile, uncertain. She looks at me like she's afraid I'll say no. Like she's afraid of hurting me.

I nod, kissing her forehead before stepping back. My hand lingers on the doorknob. "You'll be okay, right?"

"Right."

She smiles, but it's wrong. It's the kind of smile you wear when you don't know how to say you're drowning.

And it scares the hell out of me.

The moment I step out into the hallway, the weight of it all slams into me like a sledgehammer. My chest tightens, my vision blurs and the air feels too thick, too heavy, like it's pressing down on me, suffocating me.

I try to hold it in. Try to swallow it down. Try to pretend that I can just breathe through it. But the second the door clicks shut behind me, it all spills over.

My legs give out, and I brace a hand against the wall, my breath ragged, uneven. The lump in my throat swells until it's unbearable, a sharp, aching thing that refuses to be ignored. I bite down on the inside of my cheek, hard enough to taste blood, but it doesn't do anything to stop the shaking.

Newt doesn't say a word. He doesn't tell me to calm down, doesn't ask if I'm okay—because he knows I'm not. Instead, he just stands there, close enough that I can feel his presence anchoring me, steadying me, even as I fall apart.

My hands curl into fists, nails biting into my palms. "She could've died," I whisper, and the words barely make it past my lips. "She almost died, Newt."

"I know," he says, voice quiet, careful. Like if he's too loud, I'll break completely.

I shake my head, squeezing my eyes shut. "I should've known. I should've seen it. I should've done something—"

"But you didn't," Newt interrupts, his voice firm, pulling me back before I can spiral further. "And you can't change that. All you can do is be here now."

I let out a ragged breath, my whole body trembling. I feel sick. My hands press against my face, trying to ground myself, trying to push it all back down. But I can't. I can't.

"She's still not okay," I whisper, voice breaking. "She's still not okay, and I don't know how to fix it."

Newt exhales, and after a moment, he reaches out, gripping my shoulder. It's not hesitant. Not uncertain. Just solid. Steady. "Let's get you outside, yeah?"

All I can do is nod before following him, my breath catching in my throat.

The air outside is cool against my skin, but it does nothing to ground me. My lungs feel too tight, my heartbeat too erratic.

"Hey, breathe, come on." His voice is distant, muffled, like I'm slipping underwater while he remains on the surface.

"Kallias." There's more urgency in his voice now, his grip on my shoulders tightening. I barely feel it. I barely feel anything beyond the panic threatening to consume me.

"Fuck it."

Newt takes my face in his hands, his lips crashing onto mine.

For a moment, my mind goes blank. The air shifts, the weight in my chest loosening as I melt into him. He's warm, grounding, his lips firm but gentle against mine. The world quiets. My hands find his jacket, gripping the fabric as if letting go would send me spiraling again.

The kiss is slow, unhurried—nothing desperate, nothing frantic. Just enough to pull me back, just enough to remind me where I am. His hands slide to the back of my neck, fingers threading into my hair as he tilts his head, deepening the kiss. My breath shudders, but this time, it's not from panic.

Newt steps closer, pressing me against the wall with deliberate care. His body is warm against mine, his heartbeat steady, unlike mine. He kisses me like he's trying to ease every ounce of fear out of me like he's willing to shoulder it just so I don't have to. And I let him. I let him because, for the first time in what feels like forever, I don't feel like I'm drowning.

And then, just as gradually as it started, the kiss begins to slow. His lips linger, pressing one last time against mine before he pulls back, just slightly, just enough for our foreheads to brush. He doesn't let go of me—not yet. His hands remain where they are, his touch warm and steady.

"Better?"

I exhale shakily, pressing my forehead against his as I close my eyes in relief. "Better."

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Hi loves!

This is a quite long chapter, so I hope it wasn't boring.

I also hope that you enjoyed the last part:)
(That doesn't mean they're together)

Give feedback please, thank you!!
Don't forget to vote please<3

Anyway. Take care and stay safe!♡