[B][COLOR="MediumTurquoise"]I made the icons.[/COLOR][/B]
Well? What do ya think?
Summary: How Episode 8 should end up.
It’s close to four in the morning when her mobile starts to ring. It’s her first night back home again since she went back to the hospital, since she forgot, since she remembered, since Freddie went away.
She sees the name on the display of her screen, Cook, she almost doesn’t answer but before she knows it she’s hitting the button to connect the call, answering in a sigh. “Hello.” And then everything speeds up, Cook’s talking to her on the phone and she can barely make out what he’s saying. But she catches words like Freddie, Hurt, Hospital and that’s enough so she tells him she’ll be right there, ends the call pulling on her clothes as fast as she can and then she’s bolting, winding hitting her as she runs not slowing until she makes it to through the hospital doors. A few years ago running for anyone would have seemed foreign to her, but that was before the squeal of tires and the chill of screams and something wet, red and sticky seeming to be all over.
She barely breathes the name and then she’s running again up flights of stairs until she arrives in a waiting room and Cook’s there, and god there’s so much blood, all over him, staining his clothes and his skin. She stares trying to remember how to think, How to breathe and suddenly she finds her voice. “W…What happened?” She asks
Cook shakes his head. “It’s really fucked up Effy.” Cook states and she knows she can tell it’s a warning, not to ask because he thinks she doesn’t want to know, he’s probably right. “Cook.” She says, a plea, a threat, and a need.
“Someone took a baseball bat to him Ef, Someone fucking almost destroyed him.” Cook’s voice breaks and she still needs to know. “Who?” Cook shakes his head. “Cook please.” She asks, almost begging. “John Foster.” Her breath seems hidden because she can’t find it anywhere, she can’t pull air in to her lungs and so she chokes. And her legs buckle and Cook only just manages to catch her in time, and then she’s screaming fists beating against Cook’s chest as she screams not her Freddie anyone but her Freddie.
Cook holds her, till her fists are to tired to keep fighting and she sinks and they sit there both sobbing for the fact of someone they both love being hurt, being almost dead. She sighs as Cook softly rocks her, it’s hardly the first time they’ve shared tears. Time seems to drag and what seems like days later her and Cook are called to and told what to expect, she slips her hand in to cook’s hand as they walk in to the room and there he is.
He looks like he’s sleeping. His head bandaged from the stitches and he’s bruised, even though most of the blood must have been cleared away, she can’t help but flash back to seeing someone else in this state, her eyelids fall closed as she remembers her wonderful brother, she’d always thought he was indestructible and then a bus, all just machinery and rubber had changed that, Tony had been broken, but Tony had Built himself back together again.
Her and cook stood either side of the bed, she leaned down, placing a soft kiss on Freddie’s lips, ignoring the fresh split lip. His lips were just as soft as always. The only sound in the room was the beeping of the heart monitor, letting them know that even as Freddie lay still he was still fighting, his heart was still beating. “Everything’s going to be alright.” She whispered softly.
They’d called Tony’s recovery a miracle. Well, Freddie would just have to be another miracle for them to wonder at.
He brings the bat down again and I can’t help but scream, shit he really wants to kill me, I think my arm is broken, as well as my nose. He brings the bat down again but I manage to catch it just before it hits. I hold on tight and pull as hard as I can my left arms killing me but if I can just get the bat. I pull and he finally loses his grip. He takes a step forward and I swing, the bat hits the side of his head and then he’s falling, backwards down the stairs and then nothing. He’s not moving. I try the door again, shit I need to get out of here. Christ there’s blood starting to pool from his head, that shouldn’t happen. But now it is, I race down the stairs looking for a window. I should help him, but fear takes me over.
There’s one to the left of the wall, I try it and it’s stuck, I can feel the wetness of the tears on my cheeks, the pain I’m feeling won’t stop and it’s about to get worse, but I’m desperate. I pull back my fist and punch the window and hard as I can, it cracks so I hit it again and again until it shatters. I feel the glass slide against my skin with a painful sting but I lift myself and get out of the window and then I’m running as fast as I can away from the house away from the bat, away from almost dying.
I somehow manage to not slow until my house is in sight. And I’m still running just not as fast as I was my heart feels like it might burst out of my chest it’s beating so hard, I slip out my key open the door and slip inside, making sure that no one’s there and I go out the back door, the air hits me hard and I stumble back. Propping myself against the wall as I empty the contents of my stomach, retching even when I’m sure there’s nothing left to puke.
I got to the shed, shutting the door behind me and letting my legs give out so I can fall on to the chair. I pull out my mobile, my hands are shaking but I manage to scroll through my contacts, stopping as I reach Effy’s name. I want to talk to her, I need to but she’s still in the hospital what if he’d hurt her? What if he was planning to? I never thought I’d wish anyone dead but….I scroll down further reaching Cook’s name, I connect the call and bring it up to my ear as it rings. Cook answers with greeting I don’t pay attention to, like I can’t take it in. “Cook.” Christ my voice sounds horse and weak. And he can tell he asks if I’m alright and I decide I need to be truthful. “No, I’m fucking not alright, cook, I fucking need some help.” His response is immediate, he asks where I am and I thank fuck that he’s not asking the questions, I’m not sure how to answer. I tell him the shed, and end the call. Cook will be here soon, I just need to keep myself together till then. I’m not sure if I can. But I’m still alive, fucked up and terrified but still alive.