29A/N: Hey guys :) Sorry I haven't updated that recently, I've been pretty busy, but to make up for it, I have an extremely long chapter ahead (4,000+) :D Plus, I've added some Smitchie! I hope that it's okay - honestly, I wasn't that pleased with how this chapter turned out, but I'll let you guys be the judge of it :D Enjoy & please review ;)
Disclaimer: I only own Camp Rock in my own little La La Land :(
Do I expect to change, the past I hold inside,
With all the words I say,
Repeating over in my mind,
Some things you can't erase, no matter how hard you try,
An exit to escape is all there is left to find.
Thoughts of Seth and my dad still swirled in my head, although both had left a long time ago. I wasn't sure what to make of what had happened earlier- I'd never seen my dad with such pure, raw anger and hatred in his eyes. What might have shocked me more, though, was the fear in Seth's eyes - not just the usual fear, either, but a deep, tormented fear that said he'd been in this position before, and it hadn't ended well in the past. My head was spinning, and I groaned as I leaned back against the pillows, allowing them to cradle my body. I closed my eyes, trying to picture today's earlier events again. I obviously was missing something - something major, and potentially dangerous.
I stiffened as I heard the door to my private room creak open, and I immediately leveled my breathing, relaxing against the pillows in hopes that he'd think I was sleeping, and leave. I didn't want to have another 'talk' with my dad - I wasn't sure it go very well. Something about the intense hatred in his eyes made me question just how 'loving' he was.
I heard footsteps advancing into the room, and I groaned inwardly. I'd hoped that if he saw I was resting, he would simply turn and walk away, but there was no such luck. There never would be. The footsteps kept coming, although slightly off, as if he was possibly off balance, or something. Another thing I didn't understand - one more thing to add to the list of confusing things about Dad.
The footsteps stopped at my bed, and I heard him take a deep breath, filled with pain, and I was instantly confused. Somehow, when he sucked in his breath sharply, I knew something was off. I wasn't curious enough to open my eyes, for fear he'd stay even longer then, but I still couldn't resist wondering why his breathing sounded so pained.
The seat beside my bed made a small noise as he sat down beside me, and hesitantly took hold of my hand. I could feel him shaking next to me, his hand clammy, his breath coming in gasps now. It was then that I realized two things.
One, this was not my dad, but someone else entirely. And two, there were more people just outside my door.
I slid my eyes open, once I was sure that my dad was no where around, and glanced at the person sitting beside me, staring at me with pain in his eyes. Dark hair, chocolate eyes... I gasped, and tried to sit up. Finally.
"Shane." I breathed, a smile lighting up my face at the sight of him. "Oh, Shane." I whispered, as he leaned forwards and engulfed me in a gentle hug, being careful to avoid my injured arm. I breathed in his scent, closing my eyes as I leaned against him, attempting to control my tears. Finally, someone safe.
"Mitchie." He whispered in return, his voice muffled in my tangled hair, his arms still wrapped around me as if he never wanted to let me go. I didn't want him to, either. I wanted to stay here, forever in this moment, away from the rest of the world and it's insanity, and safe here in Shane's arms. Unfortunately, I knew that was impossible.
"Mitchie." I pulled away as I heard two other voices, and glanced up to see Nate and Jason approaching me hesitantly, bright smiles on their faces although they looked slightly uncomfortable (they probably were just worried that Shane would snap at them for breaking us apart). I smiled back at them, genuinely happy for the first time in days.
"Hey guys." I replied gently, and it only took a moment before Jason leapt forwards, pulling me up into a warm hug. Although the motion pained me slightly, I kept my whimper to myself, knowing that Jason was trying his hardest to be gentle. Nate rolled his eyes from behind Jason before tapping him on the shoulder, muttering something to him about letting go of me. Jason released me, and I breathed a sigh of relief (inconspicuously, of course). Nate simply smiled at me, nodding, as if that was his way of hugging me. I smiled back, knowing that Nate wasn't being rude, but just being himself.
"I'm so sorry about everything." Jason burst out suddenly, breaking the somewhat awkward silence. All three of us turned to stare at him, and I felt my chest tighten.
"It's not your fault." I replied quietly, glancing up at him while trying to fight back the tears from my eyes. I bit my lip, struggling to keep myself from shaking, although I knew that they could see plainly the pain in my eyes. I gave them a small smile, attempting to reassure them I'd be fine, and that I really didn't want to talk about it right now, and I could see that Nate and Jason understood, and glanced uneasily at Shane.
"We'll let you two have some time alone." Nate spoke up, taking Jason's arm and pulling him out of the room. As the doors closed behind them, Shane turned to face me, his eyes filled with sadness.
"Mitchie, I'm so sorry..." He began, but I cut him off as I reached forwards, pulling him back into a hug with my good arm and leaning my head forwards to rest on his shoulder. I couldn't help the tears that began to roll down my cheeks, or the strangled sobs that I realized were coming from myself.
He didn't speak - instead he simply rested his head on me and moved his hand up and down my back, rubbing my back comfortingly. I didn't say a word either - somehow, we both sensed that we just needed a moment of silence, and we'd be okay.
"I missed you." I whispered, and I felt Shane nod at my words.
"I've been so worried." He replied, his tone low, and I felt my heart break at his words. "Ever since I couldn't get a hold of you on your phone, I had this horrible feeling that something was wrong." At his words, I briefly realized that my dad had never given me my phone back. I frowned discreetly, wondering why he'd even taken it in the first place. This made me question even more so my father's strange actions. Why had he taken my cell phone at all? Why hadn't he wanted me to call Shane?
I was so wrapped up in my thoughts, I didn't notice the bright white cast on Shane's leg until I glanced over at him again. Now that I think about it, he was limping awkwardly when he walked in. I gasped, my eyes stuck on the cast.
"What happened?" I asked, instantly worried, but Shane simply shook his head.
"Don't worry about me - I'm fine. I just had a little accident during a concert." He realized too late it was the wrong thing to say, seeing as my eyes widened as I stared at him, horrified. He cleared his throat, before he began speaking again.
"I have to tell you something." Shane's voice broke me out of my thoughts, and I pulled away, our eyes meeting as I waited for him to continue. "On our way here, outside the hospital..." He hesitated, still looking confused, and I had to nod before he continued. "There was this blond kid, who told me that he needed me to tell you something." I froze - Seth.
"What did he say?" I asked, leaning forwards as I waited eagerly to hear Shane's response. I noticed Shane was surprised by my response, since his eyebrows arched and he looked even more baffled.
"You know who I'm talking about?" He asked, his tone sounding rather surprised, and I nodded briefly.
"It's a long story which I'll tell you in a minute." I replied, hesitatingly. Shane nodded, seemingly satisfied with my response, for now at least.
"He said that he needs to meet up with you - somewhere he's not, I believe he added - and he told me that you shouldn't trust him. Whoever 'he' is." I faltered, dropping back against the pillows on my bed as I pondered over what Seth had said. Don't trust him. Of course he meant my father by 'him', I knew that much, but none of this was adding up, or making any sense.
"I don't even know what to think anymore." I admitted, covering my face with my hands as I drew in a shaky breath. Shane, obviously confused and worried, leaned forwards, taking one of my hands into his own.
"Tell me what's going on, Mitchie, please." His tone of voice told me that he was nervous - he didn't know what in the world was going on, except for the fact that it upset me. I took a deep breath and opened my mouth to tell him everything - all the strange things that had happened since the car crash.
The sound of a door being opened stopped me in my tracks. I froze, forcing a smile onto my face as the figure stepped into the room. I sensed Shane's confusion, and saw him glancing between me and my dad, his hand still gripping mine. I tightened my grip, my heart racing. I saw Shane's eyes flicker back to me, and I knew that he knew something was up, and was ready to jump to his feet in an instant if I gave the word.
Why was I so afraid? My dad had never once lifted a finger towards me - why was I suddenly so on edge and doubtful of him? For some unknown reason, I was terrified - something about the look in my father's eyes when he'd screamed at Seth had not been pleasant at all, and had even suggested that he was... dangerous.
My father glanced towards Shane, quickly masking his expression before I could get any hints as to if he might blow up again on us. I truly hoped he wouldn't - I could only imagine how Shane would react, and how his actions would anger my dad even more. I knew Shane wouldn't back down, and I didn't want to even imagine what would happen in a situation like that. Sometimes, Shane was too stubborn for his own good.
Both Shane, and my dad, turned to stare at me. I could see Nate and Jason behind him, looking watchful and dubiously at his back, as if they weren't quite sure who he was, or what to do. It was obvious they didn't trust him - which, unbeknown to them, they had good reason to.
"Hey." My voice cracked, although I wasn't sure whether it was because I afraid, or because I hadn't had anything to drink since I'd woken up. I paused, taking another breath and attempting to steady my voice. "Dad, this is Shane." I nodded towards Shane, who had narrowed his eyes somewhat suspiciously, and then towards my dad. "Shane, this is my dad."
Shane reached out his free hand, not bothering to stand up, and waited for my dad to step forwards and shake it. My dad, his face still masked, forced a smile onto his face, shaking Shane's outstretched hand, with a 'Nice to meet you' forced from his lips, before he turned to me.
"Forgive my rudeness, but I really need to speak to Mitchie... alone." My grip on Shane's hand tightened even more, and I knew Shane felt it, because he turned to glance at me, confused but understanding that something was up, and he wasn't going to leave me.
"Whatever you have to say can be said in front of Shane," I replied, meeting my father's eyes firmly. He drew in a sharp breath, obviously not pleased by what I'd said, but simply nodded, looking rather awkward as he glanced sideways at Shane.
"I'm sorry about what happened earlier," He began, still looking uncomfortable with the fact Shane was in the room - but I didn't care, because I needed Shane here. I didn't want to be in the room alone with him, not yet, anyways. "I should have reacted differently, but I was... surprised." He looked truly sorry, and I sighed, some of the tension leaving my body. Maybe everything had just been a big misunderstanding. Maybe I had just overreacted over nothing.
Shane must have noticed my change in posture, because some of the suspicion left his eyes, although he still looked just as worried as he had from the moment my dad had stepped foot into the room. I smiled at him reassuringly, and I saw my dad flinch out of the corner of my eye.
"It's ok, Dad. We all make mistakes." I replied slowly, smiling at him also. Some of the tension left his eyes, and I could see him visibly relax. He smiled, coming forwards again, and I leaned forwards as he pulled me into a gentle hug. And just like that, he was forgiven. I wondered why I'd ever doubted him in the beginning.
Oh, that's right. Seth. Unwillingly, my mind flashed back to Seth's terrified expression as my father yelled, and I closed my eyes, sucking in a breath quickly. In two seconds, my thoughts swirled back to earlier. What was going on between them? I had to talk to Seth, as soon as possible.
"But please, Mitchie," I broke out of my thoughts, realizing that Dad was speaking again, "Just know that you need to stay away from Seth. You don't know what happened, and I think it's best you avoid him at all costs." Too bad his words were in vain - the moment I was able to, I was going to find Seth. No matter what my father said. I saw Shane's eyes narrow, probably ready to jump to my defense if this 'Seth' my dad mentioned happened to come within a hundred feet of me. I'd have to explain to him later that I didn't think Seth was any problem at all - despite my father's words.
I nodded, to show my father that I had heard, and lowered my eyes so as to avoid meeting his determined gaze. I heard him sigh, and suddenly he was beside me, his hand on my chin, lifting my head up so I could glance up at him.
"Mitchie, dear, I know you don't understand now, but please, trust me." He begged, his tone soft, and I closed my eyes, breathing in his sharp scent. Daddy. The word unwillingly popped into my head, reminding me of the father that had just walked back into my life after three years, and how much I'd missed him in those lonely years. "You have to believe me." His voice was barely a whisper, and I had to fight to keep tears from falling down my face at his tone. He was practically begging, sounding desperate, and I couldn't resist.
"Yes, Daddy, I do." I replied, my voice cracking, and I saw my father smile sadly at me as he pulled away, retreating from me once again, shoving his hands back into his pockets.
"I have to go, dear, but I'll be back later." He grinned at me, somewhat suspiciously, but I was too caught up in the previous moment to do anything other than nod dumbly. "Good to meet you Shane." He nodded curtly towards Shane, who returned the movement, and then Dad turned and left.
The moment he was gone, the door closed firmly behind him, Shane turned to me, his eyes full of unanswered questions.
"Mitchie." His tone was serious, nervous, and ultimately, confused. "What in the world is going on here?"
[Shane's POV]
I couldn't believe my ears. Maybe I was delirious, hopelessly confused, or missing something, because Mitchie's story sounded like a foreign language to me. Or maybe it wasn't her story so much as the fact that she was defending him, even comfortable with him, after everything she'd just told me. Nothing made sense about the whole situation.
"Hang on a second," I interrupted, and she immediately broke off, stopping to glance at me. "That Seth kid - is he the one from outside the hospital earlier? Blond hair, blue eyes..." I asked, and Mitchie nodded, her gaze unwavering.
"Yes." She replied simply, before she continued on, recalling the day's past events. I closed my eyes, trying to allow all of this newly acquired information sink in, and Mitchie paused, a sad smile tugging at the corner of her lips.
She opened her mouth to speak again, but before she could get a word out, the door to the room was opened, and a doctor in a long white coat came in, looking rather rushed. Mitchie and I both turned to stare at him, and he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and then re-opened them before he began to talk.
"Mr. Gray, I need to talk to Miss Torres privately, please." He asked quietly, and I moved to get up, when Mitchie's grip on my hand tightened.
"I want him to stay, please." Mitchie's voice was low, and nervous, and so helpless. The doctor breathed a sigh, no doubt noting the panic in Mitchie's voice, before nodding, and I squeezed Mitchie's hand gently, letting her know that everything would be okay, and that I wasn't going anywhere.
"Very well. I've just come to inform you that your Aunt is out of surgery, and she's awake. She's asking for you." Mitchie straightened at the doctor's words, looking both happy yet afraid, and I understood her response. She closed her eyes, her hand gripping mine tighter, before she spoke.
"Can I go see her?" Her voice was low, frightened, and child-like. The doctor nodded slowly, looking as if he probably wasn't supposed to allow her to move from her bed, but was making an exception because of the situation.
"Normally, I would say no, because patients aren't usually allowed out of their beds, especially ones that are you state." I saw Mitchie flinch, her eyes dropping down to her hands as the doctor continued speaking. "However, under the circumstances, of course you may see her." He looked like he wanted to deny her, but didn't have the heart to, and I heard Mitchie exhale loudly.
"Then let's go."
[Mitchie's POV]
My heart was pounding in my chest as Shane gingerly helped me into the wheelchair that Dr. Long had provided for me, simply stating that it was the only way I could go see Aunt Clara, since he refused to allow me to walk. I hadn't argued - I needed to see Aunt Clara, I needed to tell her that I was sorry. I had to apologize - for everything.
I gasped as pain shot through my body, despite how careful Shane and I were being, as Shane helped me to lower myself into the wheelchair. My hands subconsciously found the handles and gripped them tightly, trying to wish away the pain. The doctor grimaced, telling me silently that this was part of the reason he hadn't wanted me to leave the room. I, as usual, ignored him. I was going to see Aunt Clara, even if I had to have Shane help me to break out of my room and into hers - I had to see her.
Satisfied that I was as okay as I would be at the moment, Shane moved behind me, his hands gently maneuvering the wheelchair from the room, his expression pained, as if he thought that every movement he made only caused me more pain. If only he could see how gentle he was being, and how grateful I was for that fact.
Dr. Long led the way down the bland white corridor, past the rows of rooms, Shane on his heels. I tried to calm myself - to mentally prep myself for what I would have to deal with once we reached Aunt Clara's room - and tell myself that no matter how bad it appeared, everything would be alright. Or at least, I tried to convince my brain of that unproven fact - it didn't work.
"We're almost there," Dr. Long informed us, glancing back to see how we were doing. I attempted to smile so he wouldn't notice the extreme pain I was in, but his look told me he saw right through me. "Just a few more rooms to go." He tried to smile - maybe in an attempt to make a joke - but neither of us even began to return the gesture. I was too preoccupied with trying not to cry at the pain coming from my injured arm and back, and Shane was deathly silent behind us. I wished I could turn around and see his face, so I would have some insight into what he was thinking, but he remained quiet, preoccupied with some thought.
Dr. Long stopped in front of us, and in turn, Shane slowly drew the wheelchair to a gentle halt. Dr. Long stood in front of the doorway, his hand on the knob, still glancing at me uncertainly.
"I'd just like to prep you before we go into the room, if you don't mind." He cleared his throat quietly, looking slightly worried as he observed my pale face and noticed I was only half-conscious. The strain on me both mentally and physically was catching up to me, and I wasn't in any state to fight it off. No, this time, it was winning.
He opened his mouth to speak, and then closed it again, looking thoughtful, before he continued. "Just know that her survival chances are looking very good, so you don't need to go worrying any more so than you already are, despite how things look, okay?" He asked, and I nodded quietly, mentally preparing myself for what was on the other side of that door.
With a single twist, the door flew open at Dr. Long's touch, and Shane cautiously wheeled me into the room. I sucked in a sharp breath, my heart jumping into my throat as I met Aunt Clara's eyes.
To say that she looked terrible would be an understatement. Bandages wrapped around multiple parts of her body - a small white bandage wrapped around her forehead - and wires were hooked up to her arms and legs and the rest of her... She looked so weak and helpless, lying there with scars running down her face and hands and above her eye. I closed my eyes, trying hard not to allow the tears to pour down my cheeks, and Aunt Clara herself looked close to tears.
"Mitchie." She groaned, and Shane pushed me closer, until I was able to reach out and grasp her fragile hand in my own. At her soft whisper, I couldn't help the sob that escaped from my throat, and Aunt Clara sighed.
"I'm sorry." I choked out, "I'm so sorry. I'm sorry about everything - about before, about arguing while we were on the road, about everything I've ever done that was wrong. I'm so, so sorry." I was tripping over my words, my speech hindered by the sobs racking my body, and Aunt Clara weakly tried to shake her head.
"Mitchie, please, stop." She said softly, her hand gripping mine tightly. "This isn't your fault-" She glanced at me pointedly. Maybe she was a mind reader, or maybe she could just see the guilt in my eyes. "...and you've already apologized once too many times, dear." She attempted to laugh, although I couldn't seem to find anything humorous at all about this situation. "I'm just glad you're okay." She glanced at my arm as she said it, eyeing the cast and sling sadly, before she closed her eyes shut tightly.
"I'm glad you're okay, too." I whispered in return, and her sympathetic green eyes once again slid to meet mine. I fought back the painful emotions rushing through me, although I couldn't stop myself from trembling. "And I really am sorry." I apologized again, despite what she'd just said. Her comforting words couldn't erase the truth that the accident was mostly on account of my own fault. I shouldn't have been arguing with her, I shouldn't have lost my temper, I shouldn't have reacted so horribly.
Aunt Clara's hand reached out, her hand on my chin, lifting my head until my eyes met hers - a strikingly similar motion to the one my father had made just a little while ago. Somehow, this time it felt more comforting, more... real, and I relaxed, allowing myself a moment's bit of silence.
"Mitchie, dear, I order you to stop blaming yourself. " Her tone was gentle, and she searched my eyes, no doubt noting the tears leaking from the corners of them, and I could see my emotions reflected back in her own expression.
"Miss Torres," Dr. Long broke the moment, causing me to pull away, leaning back in the wheelchair as I turned my head to look at him. "Miss Thomsin in is need to rest. You may come back again tomorrow, if you wish." He informed me, and I nodded, both to show him that I had heard, and that I would be coming back as soon as possible. There was so much more I wanted to say, but Shane was already gently wheeling me back, towards the door. I stared back at Aunt Clara, ignoring the pain that twisting my neck caused, and I saw Aunt Clara smile at me gently, reasurringly. Satisfied, I turned back around, releasing the strain from my neck, and sighed.
Maybe, just maybe, I would allow myself to believe that things would be okay.