The hospital waiting room smelled of antiseptic and stale air. The white walls felt suffocating, and the hum of distant monitors did nothing to ease the tension that had settled over them like a heavy storm cloud.
Aster had been rushed into surgery the second they arrived. Blood soaked his shirt, pooling onto the stretcher as nurses scrambled to stop the bleeding. But Rea hadn't moved from her seat since.
She sat in the corner, arms wrapped around herself, her face blank.
Rina paced the room, her worry evident in the way her fingers trembled every time she ran a hand through her hair. "They'll save him," she whispered, almost like she was convincing herself. "They have to."
Jaxon stood by the window, his back to them, but the tension in his shoulders spoke volumes. He had been silent since they arrived, not a single sarcastic comment, not a single insult thrown at Aster like he usually would.
Christy sat across from Rea, arms crossed, lips pressed into a tight line. For once, she wasn't cracking jokes. There was no teasing, no smug remarks. Just silence. A deep, painful silence.
Every minute that passed felt like an eternity.
Every second that ticked by was another reminder that Aster was fighting for his life behind those doors.
Rea's fingers dug into her sleeves. She should have gone in with him. She should have been the one sitting by his side, holding his hand, making sure he knew he wasn't alone.
But instead, she sat there. Quiet. Empty.
It wasn't fair.
Aster had survived everything—Collaway, Westwood, the war, his entire life being a lie—only to end up here, bleeding out on an operating table.
Jaxon suddenly punched the wall, making everyone jump. "What the hell is taking so long?" His voice was raw, angry. But underneath, there was something else. Fear.
Rina flinched at the sound but didn't tell him to calm down. Because she understood. They all did.
Then, the door opened.
The doctor stepped out. His face was unreadable, but the moment Rea saw the look in his eyes, the world around her started to blur.
Time seemed to slow.
She could hear her heartbeat in her ears, a deafening drum against the silence that followed.
The doctor removed his gloves. His hands were stained red. A deep, final red.
"I'm sorry," he said softly.
The world collapsed.
---
Rina gasped, stepping back as if she had been physically struck. She shook her head. "No."
Christy's lips parted slightly, like she wanted to say something—anything—but no words came out. Her body tensed, her hands curling into fists as she looked away.
Jaxon just stared.
It was rare to see him at a loss for words. Jaxon, the one who always had something to say, who always had some sarcastic remark, was utterly silent.
The doctor continued, his voice carefully even, but Rea barely heard him.
"His injuries were too severe. The bullet damaged vital organs, and there was too much blood loss. We did everything we could, but he didn't make it through surgery."
Didn't make it.
Didn't make it.
The words echoed in her skull like a hammer against glass, each repetition cracking something inside her.
Rina pressed a shaking hand to her mouth, silent tears spilling down her cheeks. "No, please—"
"I'm sorry."
Jaxon took a step back, hitting the wall behind him. His head lowered, his fists clenched at his sides.
Christy swallowed hard. She turned away, pressing her fingers to her temple like she could force this nightmare out of her head.
But Rea?
She didn't move.
She didn't cry.
She didn't scream.
She just stood there, staring at the doctor, her mind refusing to process the words.
Aster was gone.
His smirks. His stupid, reckless grin. The way he teased her, made fun of her, pushed her buttons just to see her roll her eyes.
Gone.
His voice, the one that always had some sarcastic comment, always had something to say even in the worst of times—
Gone.
His presence, the only person who understood her, who saw through her walls, who could make her laugh even when she wanted to kill him—
Gone.
The world around her faded. The voices of Rina, Jaxon, Christy—they all blurred into nothing.
She turned and walked away.
No one stopped her.
---
The hospital halls were cold.
Her feet carried her forward, but she wasn't sure where she was going. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered.
Somewhere behind her, she could hear Jaxon yelling.
"This is bullshit! He was supposed to—he was supposed to make it!"
Someone else—Rina, maybe—was crying. Christy? Silent.
But Rea just kept walking.
The automatic doors slid open, and the night air hit her like a slap to the face.
She barely felt it.
She didn't feel anything.
She walked past the cars, past the streetlights, past the sounds of the city that didn't know, didn't care that the world had just ended.
She didn't stop until she reached the edge of the sidewalk, where the hospital lights couldn't reach.
Then, she sank to her knees.
And the numbness cracked.
A sob tore from her throat, raw and broken, and once it started, it didn't stop.
Her fingers clutched at her chest, trying to hold herself together, but it was useless.
He was gone.
Aster was gone.
And she—
She had never told him.
Never told him how much he meant to her.
Never told him how much she needed him.
She had never told him, and now she never could.
The grief hit her like a wave, knocking her down, drowning her in a sea of loss so deep she wasn't sure she would ever surface again.
She hated him.
She hated him for leaving.
For dying.
For making her care so much only to rip it all away.
She hated him.
And she loved him.
And it didn't matter anymore.
Because he was gone.