A/N: Hello Readers, I'm so very sorry that is has taken me so long to update, 29 days! I should be ASHAMED of myself, but you have to understand that I had homework, AND my exams are in two weeks. At least the chapter is here NOW! I just want to give a heads up that I will probably not update until January 28th because I have exams and I need to finish studying. Also, I would like to thank every person that has reviewed, story alerted, and favorited, you people are so NICE and it makes me feel really AWESOME that my work is being appreciated! Anyways, on with the chapter! Copyright: The song lyrics used in this chapter belong to the song A Message by the band Coldplay. P.S, There is some talk of God and Praying, I am not trying to convert/upset/anger anyone, it is just used for the story.

Chapter 9: Stability

I hate it. The careless people outside these four walls. The feeling that the only person I've ever been able to open up to could be gone before our life had never really started. She's only a girl. As fragile as new china or a porcelain doll. Broken so easily, broken so much to the point of being unfixable.

I've never really prayed to God before. Considering the fact that he let my life become hell, I haven't been too fond of the guy. Whether he's you're savior, or just some cruel man who lives in the clouds; people do believe in him.

I guess they believe because when they die, they don't want to be just dead. They do not want to be a decomposing body in the ground, not living. Just dead. That would be too depressing.

Personally, I think that life is simple. You are only dealt one set of cards, and sometimes you get aces and kings, but in the case of me, I was just unlucky. It never really hurts to have help on you're side.

I pick up a brochure that has a cross, and then go sit back in the depressing waiting room. Overall, the hospital has a depressing and bleak aura. In the waiting room, paintings of flowers are dancing on the wall, and then a scene of snow and bare trees are on the opposite wall.

Instead of the beautiful murals giving me hope, they come across as sad and dreary, reminding everyone here that happiness, like flowers, can only last so long until death sets in.

I sigh and then open up the brochure. Turn to the table of contents and read:

Prayers for the Sick, and their Loved Ones

All Prayers Have Been Specially Picked by the Holy Mother Theresa

Underneath is a picture of a wrinkled old lady with kind eyes, she can only be this Theresa person. I quickly turn to a random prayer and begin reading again:

This is one of the most meaningful prayers. Repeat the line that you connect with the most, and God will grant you what you need. Ask and you shall receive.

The Prayer of St. Francis of Assisi

Lord, make me an instrument of your there is hatred, let me sow love; where there is injury, pardon; where there is doubt, faith;where there is despair, hope; where there is darkness, light; and where there is sadness, joy. O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console; to be understood as to understand; to be loved as to it is in giving that we receive; it is in pardoning that we are pardoned; and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life. Amen

And that is the prayer. I repeat only two lines. The one about injury and the one about despair. Pardoning and hope are what I need now more than ever. I start praying and reflecting. Apologizing and asking are all I am thinking of. Ask and you shall receive. Ask and you shall receive.

Suddenly, as if I just realized that I could hear, a song comes on the radio, it's not like I recognize it, but I decide to listen.

My song is love

Love to the loveless shown

And it goes on

You don't have to be alone

Your heavy heart

Is made of stone

And it's so hard to see you clearly

You don't have to be on your own

You don't have to be on your own

I exhale after realizing I've been holding my breath. The song is a message. A message meant for me, sent from my mom, or dad, or God, or Jesus, or just some higher power. A warm feeling overwhelms me with hope, as I see a middle aged doctor walk steadily towards me.

I pull my hat down a bit, because I realized that I was smirking a bit for no apparent reason.

He cautiously approaches me and then says with a huge grin, "She should be just fine. She's lost a lot of blood though, so you will have to keep her on a healthy diet with lots of exercise."

I feel as if a weight has been lifted off of me entirely. I sigh a bit too loudly though, because the doctor chuckles, "You kids must really love each other. She's been asking for you ever since the painkillers wore off. I bet you are dying to see each other. Come on." He gestures towards two heavy metal doors, mirroring the ones that were outside Uncle Gordon's room. I take a deep breath in as I walk through the doors.

Inside are many hospital rooms, most of them have sleeping people in them, but they all exude a warm feeling. He leads me over to a small door and says, "You can just go in, she may be sleeping though. I'll leave you two alone, but when you're ready, go to the main hall and pick up your medical kit filled with gauzes, ointment, painkillers; the usual."

He gives me a reassuring nod and then I wander inside.

The sight of a loved one constricted to a hospital bed could be enough to repulse you, but the sight of Chelsea- alive I should add- made my heart skip a beat. Sure she wasn't wearing any makeup, her hair was untamed, and she was wearing a hospital gown, but she still looked perfect.

She was sleeping peacefully on a comfy hospital bed, I quietly walked over to a chair placed right beside the bed. I thought about grabbing her hand, but then realized that it was wrapped up in semi-bloody gauzes and put in a sling.

Suddenly, her eyes flutter open slowly. "Hey." She says in a hoarse voice.

"You basically die and all you can say to me is, 'hey'?" I asked with disbelief. She shrugs her shoulders, "I love you?" She asks, as if it's a question.

"That's better." I mumble, but then look away, "What the hell happened?" I mutter.

"I was trying to make you dinner as an apology. I burned my right hand on the stove," She pauses to lift up her bandaged hand, "and when that happened, I dropped the knife and-"

I cut her off, "It hit your left arm." I whisper. She nods in agreement, and then starts again, "Look, I'm sorry for what I said to you, about Skye, and I'm sorry that it took almost dying to realize it."

"Don't apologize. I'm the one that should be saying sorry, I guess it was my fault for not believing you about Jill."

She smirks a bit, "Your right, it was your fault. I'm never doing anything nice for you again!" I hold up my hands, "Woah, woah, woah, I think you're painkillers are a bit too strong or something, I thought I heard you say that you weren't going to do anything nice for me."

She smiles, "Actually you heard right.""Oh really?" I lean in close to her, "What if I do something nice for you?"

She darts her eyes at me, "Oh yeah, like what?"

"This." I close my eyes and then kiss her. My hands cradle her face as her hands get tangled in my hair.

The song from earlier is still on the radio as Chelsea and I kiss passionately.

My song is love

My song is love, unknown

But I'm on fire for you, clearly

You don't have to be alone

You don't have to be on your own

And for the first time in my life, I give thanks to God for being alive.

A/N: Aww. So sweet, I'm sorry if the chapter was a bit short; I've got to get to studying! I'm sorry if the praying had a negative effect on anyone, it was meant in a positive, subliminal way. So thank you all for reading, and please REVIEW, I was wondering if you all think I should stick to Vaughn's POV or switch back and forth like before. Thanks, I'll update Late January/Early February.