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Sorry I'm late again, guys! I've been catching up with the MCU and I finally saw Endgame... I'm shook. Don't worry, no spoilers. 

Enjoy, xx

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I bring my knees up to my chest, swaying back and forth in my seat. I scratch my legs, fidgeting with my skin. I cuddle up beneath Owens jacket, placing half of it over Lena's knees, too. We've been sitting in the waiting room for over two hours now. The sun must've started coming up by now, but I wouldn't know. There are no windows here, just bright fluorescent lights and overly sterilised white tiles.

"I'm so tired," Lena yawns, resting her head against my shoulder.

"It's okay," I tell her. "Not long now."

Tyler and Owen were called in by a nurse about an hour ago. Owen hasn't texted us any updates yet, so I can only assume they've got everything under control.

Turns out, I didn't even have to wake Owen up. He was already awake, and so was Lena. My argument with Tyler was apparently a bit too loud. Once they saw the state of him, they understood. Even as we drove to the hospital, Tyler kept his shitty attitude going. He even yelled at me for offering him some water. I thought it would help him to stay hydrated, but his response was clear. 'you're not my fucking mother', he said.

I swear he can't say anything without using the f-word.

"Fuck that!" I hear him call. "I don't give a fuck!"

The door swings open, exposing a furious Tyler. He's walking by himself, without a limp. His shorts are covering up his wound, but I can't see any more blood. Owen forced him to put a shirt on before we got here, so I still can't see his tattoos, despite being in great lighting. Lena and I stand up, gathering our things. We can finally go home.

"Come on, man," Owen grumbles, following Tyler through the door.

"Fuck no!" he responds.

"Is everything alright?" I ask. "What did the doctor say?"

Tyler turns his attention to me. He marches my way, glaring down at me. Shit. This is bad.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" he yells. "You think you're fucking funny?"

"What? I don't know what you-"

"I don't give a shit about your bullshit excuses!"

"Tyler!" Owen calls, pulling his friend backwards. "There are other people here."

Tyler tugs his arm free, leaving the emergency room in a huff. What the hell is his problem now?

By the time we make it outside, Tyler has lit a cigarette. He's pacing back and forth, but he stops as soon as he sees me. Of all the times I've seen him angry, right now, is the worst. And his fury, is aimed at me.

"Tyler..." I begin. "What's going on?"

"You're fucking insane!" he spits at me.

"I don't- What do you mean?"

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about!"

"You act like you give a shit but you clearly don't! You're just a fucking cunt!"

A... cunt? My face drops. I haven't done anything bad to him, but he thinks I have. His words don't anger me, but they hurt. I can feel them in my stomach. Why does he have to be so cruel?

"Tyler..." I mumble. "Can you just talk to me normally, please?"

"I swear to fucking god, you have everybody fooled but me!" he responds.

"I swear, I don't know what you're talking about."

"You're so full of shit!"

"Please!" I beg. "Tell me what's going on."

"Don't act ducking dumb! You know damn well what you did!"

"No, I don't!"

"You fucking lied to me!" he waves his hand into the air.

"What? No, I didn't!"

"You ducking forced me to come here! Acting like I was dying or some shit!"

"I was worried about you."

"Well, I'm fucking fine!"

"The doctor said that?"

"Gave me stitches, antibiotics and told me to duck off!"

"That's good!"

"You fucking lied to me!"

"No, I didn't!"

"I never should've listened to you!"

"I was worried about you!"

"Bullshit!"

I run out of things to say. I continue watching him, hoping the situation will diffuse, but Tyler doesn't budge. He keeps his eyes glued on mine.

"I don't know what to tell you," I say. "I was worried about you."

"Save it," he shakes his head. "You wasted all our time tonight."

"No, I didn't!" I object. "You should've come here in the first place.

"She's right," Own interferes, stepping between the two of us. "You should've come here when you got stabbed in the first place."

My mouth drops. Stabbed? That was a stab wound? I assumed he'd cut it on a fence or something, but someone actually did that to him.

"And you don't need to take your anger out on her," Lena says. "She did the right thing."

His eyes flicker between mine, but his expression doesn't change. I want nothing more than to yell back at him - to tell him off for screaming at me for no reason. But I can't. I don't have the guts for that.

"I promise I wasn't faking anything," I say.

He lets out a low grumble, and finally, turns away from me. He marches over to the car, with Owen hot on his heels. I stay with Lena.

"What the hell is his problem?" she scowls.

"I don't know," I say.

"He's an ass."

"A giant ass."

"I think we should have lunch later," she says. "We need a break from the boys."

"That sounds good," I smile. "We need to catch up on everything, anyway."

"Yes, we do! A proper girl chat."

By the time we reach the car, Owen already has the engine running. We hop into the back, not saying a word. Tyler is still smoking, but he blows it out of the window instead of letting it sit in the car.

I take a deep breath, feeling the stress lift off me. Tonight has been absolute trash. First my nightmare, and then all this with Tyler. I just want to crawl into a ball and cry. I'm surprised I didn't have a panic attack.

I pull my phone out of my pocket. I need to talk to my mum. I click on her contact, hearing the dial tone play over and over. It goes to voicemail.

"Hi! This is Melinda Stone. I'm not available right now, but feel free to leave a message. Thanks!"

I end the call, letting my phone drop onto my lap. My heart rate begins to increase, and I feel my facial muscles begin to tighten. My eyes well up.

No, no, no, no, no. This isn't the time to cry.

I wipe my tears away before they reach my cheeks. I wrinkle my nose, trying not to make any noise.

I fight the urge to start sobbing.

"Are you okay?" Lena asks.

"Yeah," I nod, keeping my eyes glued to the window.

"What happened to your leg?"

"What?" I frown. "Nothing."

"You're bleeding."

I glance down at my skin. Sure enough, there's a small line of blood trailing over my leg. There are red scratches all over my shin.

I know exactly what happened. I did it to myself.

"Oh, yeah. That's nothing," I shrug.

"What happened?"

"I don't know."

"Sarah..."

"I cut myself shaving."

"Don't lie."

"Did you do that to yourself?" Owen asks, taking his eyes off the road.

"No, no, it was an accident," I excuse. It's not a lie, either.

"Do you want me to pull over at the store? We can clean you up and get you some bandaids."

"No, that's okay. It's only small."

"I'll fix her up when we get home," Lena says. She gives me a pointed look. She knows.

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