"I can feel it. It's slow, and faint. But it's there. My heart is beating."
—me I'm tired please help
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H o l l o w s I n
T I M E
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The doctor smiled at me as I pulled the blanket tighter around my shivering frame.

"You should be fine." He reassured me. "But you need to take it slow and take a warm shower as soon as possible." He instructed, and I nodded. I excused myself and made my way to the reception, where Bria and Jonah were waiting for me.

"I'm all good." I told them before they could ask. Bria smiled and pulled me in for a hug.

"Sky–" Jonah begun, but he didn't get to finish as a commotion broke out behind us. I turned to see Jameson running in, having smashed the doors to their death.

I sighed and rolled my eyes.

"Sky!" He breathed out frantically, grasping onto my arms as he met me in the middle of the reception.

"Are you okay? I've heard rumours about what happened." His eyes ran frantically over my frame, first taking in my damp hair, then the blanket that I pulled tightly around me.

"You're a few doctors checkups too late." I shot at him, completely deadpanned.

Jameson frowned at my attitude. "But you're okay, right?"

I grunted. "Yeah, after Jonah pulled me out from an ice cold lake, performed CPR and–"

"Wait," Jameson turned his attention to the Guardian who had actually saved my life. "You performed CPR on her?" He asked. There was a look in his eyes that I didn't quite recognise. I couldn't tell if he was jealous, or confused, or shocked.

"No." Jonah replied, frowning. "She did." He gestured to Bria. My eyes widened. I had just assumed that–

"My bad." I muttered under my breath as Bria gave Jameson a short wave from where she stood beside me.

I hooked my arm through Bria's. "We should be going." I announced before taking steps forward. Jameson reached out to stop me. I flinched away, but then reconsidered my choices, and leaned in.

"Talk to Jonah," I whispered to him and I saw him tense. "Apologise for assuming that he'd put my life in danger, then thank him for preventing my life from danger." I advised, leaving him standing on his own, striding off and taking Bria with me.

We were walking down corridor after corridor, getting odd looks from pretty much everyone. After a very eventful day, it would seem that I've missed lunch, and I am no longer in any condition to endure the final two periods of the school day.

Bria offered to walk me back to my dorm, and was very adamant about it, so I reluctantly let her be my guide.

We had been walking in an awkward silence for too long. So I spoke up.

"Did you really perform CPR on me?" I asked Bria, seeing her turn her head to raise an eyebrow at me.

"Yeah," she responded, "why? Was the experience horrid?" She asked, humour laced into her tone, though I had a feeling she was using her comedy to cover up the fact that her cheeks were flushing. I ignored her intentions and stifled a laugh, shaking my head.

"I didn't even know what was going on." I told her and she nodded, pulling my arm closer to her.

"Well, I didn't want Jonah to lose anymore oxygen, and I also didn't want someone to spot him in a compromising position with you." She explained, as if I hadn't nearly been caught in a compromising position with another Guardian on many occasions.

I nodded. "That wouldn't have ended well." Bria hummed in agreement.

My dorm room was in sight when Bria spoke up again. "Do you still not remember what happened?" She asked.

I sighed and tugged on a wet strand of my hair. "No. And it's so frustrating, because it doesn't seem right that I would just spontaneously take a dip in the school's pond." I threw a hand up in the air and huffed.

"Hey," Bria soothed, rubbing a thumb over the back of my hand. "I'm sure you've conquered far worse mysteries." She observed.

"And I'm also sure that you'll solve this one. I mean, their must be a witness, or a disturbance at the gates, something you can spot on the security cameras–" I came to a stand still. Bria tripped up in shock, turning around to face me with a confused expression on her face.

"Bria, that is the best idea I've heard in five months." I told her. She rose an eyebrow but I waved her off, promising that I'd tell her soon, but not yet. Not yet.

Bria and Jonah left Jameson and I by ourselves. In our dorm. I had shrugged off the blanket and made a mad dash for the shower before Jameson could even speak two syllables.

I sighed, warm droplets of water running down the skin of my bare body. I need another twenty-four hours in here before I even consider getting out. I could drink the shower water, so I wouldn't necessarily get thirsty.

Okay, it's time to get out; I'm going delirious.

As I ran the towel across my body, my eyes met the scales by the door. I had a meeting with my nutritionist later. Once every week. I closed my eyes and grunted in dissatisfaction. Dammit. I probably had an appointment with my therapist later too—not that conversing with Jace had any correlation with conversing with Wendy, the blonde embodiment of 'Healthy Recipes' by Jamie Oliver.

I put my towel on the side and turned the scales on. Here goes nothing. My right foot, then left foot. I stood on the scales and waited. Please, I need to weigh at least more than a loaf of bread.

Then the number popped up on the screen. I blinked.

Then I screamed.

Tears welled up in my eyes as I jumped off the scales, turned them off, turned them on, then got back on them again. I didn't stop shrieking.

A pounding at the door had me tripping over the scales, but I didn't care anymore. Abduct me, threaten me, hurt me, starve me. I'll just keep healing, and healing, and healing. You can break me. But I can fix me.

"Sky!" Jameson yelled through the door. "Are you okay?" He asked, the panic clear in his voice.

I clambered over to the door and tore it open, surprised when it didn't come away from its hinges. Jameson stared at me, seemingly taken aback by my outburst. When he saw that nothing was wrong, he just frowned at me, paying particular attention to the massive grin on my face.

"Guess what?" I threw him and saw something shift in his expression. As his eyes watched me, absorbing the happiness on my face, his expression started to light up.

"What?" He asked, a small smile appearing on his lips as curiously glinted in his eyes. I saw his eyes flit down to my lips. But it was a flicker of a gaze.

"I just checked my weight." I told him, and he raised an eyebrow, his smile not leaving his face.

"I weigh seven stone." I told him triumphantly. Five months. Five months and I'm still living. If only my captors could see me now. Only one month of recovery, and I'm already better off than they are by now.

Jameson's expression grew even more happier, if that was at all possible. There was a sudden light to his eyes, as if someone had turned up the brightness and saturation of them. And I couldn't lie, they looked more beautiful than I had ever seen. They looked like sapphire coloured diamonds, as if they had been dusty before, and then someone came and polished them. His lips pulled back to show his teeth as he grinned at me. But he didn't say anything. We just seemed to revel in each others joy.

But he couldn't help it. His eyes showed me what this moment meant to him. He was overjoyed that I was healing—he was happy that I was happy.

"Jameson," I breathed out, a massive grin still plastered to my face. His smile grew as he heard his name fall from my lips.

And then it was as if the world turned on it's side. But it wasn't haphazard. This was the way that it belonged to sit.

"Oh, Jameson." Tears of both joy and sorrow spilled out of my eyes. And I let them. Jameson watched them fall. And then he watched me fall into him, embracing him in my arms.

Yes, the world is definitely the right way up.

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Cringe

I'm so tired but I had coffee earlier I'm confused

I think maybe it reversed my sleep instead of making me less tired

I'm also vv tired so here's Monday's chapter I'm going to go nap and then post Wednesdays

See you later xx

CHAPTER FIFTY-FIFTY SPOILER:

Problems always arise with the people you thought wouldn't cause you problems.

And a gift arrives at the door.

A gift not from the present, but from the past.