Something's Wrong With You, Really

Dedicated to you. Yeah, YOU!

"I really, really, really hate that I love you." He smirked. "I know." // One-shot.

At 7:04 PM, Brandon McKenna died in Bear Valley Community Hospital from a broken right arm, a broken leg, four broken ribs, internal bleeding, a collapsed lung, and major blood loss.

Bastard died exactly ten days before my 21st birthday.

Ten days before he promised that he'd buy me the biggest keg he could find and my very own male stripper.. Not that I was looking forward to being drunk off my ass and be accosted by a naked gigolo with him, but damn it, he made a promise. He never broke a promise.

He could have at least stuck around long enough to break a promise to my face like a good, worst enemy should.


And, sure, I hated the man almost all of my life, but after everything we've been through, I would've figured that a wave of relief or a shiver up my spine would've shot through my body.

Something, anything, but nothing happened.

The world didn't stop. There wasn't a moment of silence. Life just went on as usual. Creatures of the night still howled and the stars became more and more visible in the darkness.

No one in the sea of two hundred fifty some college students in my Anthropology 140 class even noticed.

Hell, I didn't even know.

At 6:21 PM, I didn't blink twice when I got a message on my cellphone telling me to call my brother, Troy.

I was stuck in the middle of this mindless lecture by Professor Monotone, not even paying attention, but I didn't even feel any urge to call back.

You'd figure that you'd feel something. Anything.

I felt nothing.

At 6:45 PM, class ended and I finally called back.

I figured my idiot brothers wanted me to go buy them Chinese for dinner so I had a pen in hand, ready to take down their orders.

Instead, my call was passed between my three older brothers, Ayden, Troy, and Ryan.

They were babbling like a bunch of idiots. It was almost incomprehensible.

They ditched school and work for a snow day. Just wanted to chill. Fresh powder. Then something about a car accident. A tree falling on the passenger side. Ayden and Brandon were in the car. Ayden had a couple of stitches but was fine. Brandon was in the front seat. He took the full brunt of the accident. Troy and Ryan were snowboarding when it happened. Got there as soon as they could.

Even as they talked and cursed about the it, I still couldn't believe it.

Nothing made sense, nothing at all.

At 7:01 PM, my oldest brother, Ryan told me that they got themselves kicked them out of the emergency room.

Brandon went into cardiac attest. Again.

Ayden broke down in the middle of the waiting room.

At 7:02 PM, my phone went dead.

Needless to say, I was pissed.

Pissed at the rush hour traffic. Pissed at my shitty Blackberry's shitty battery life. And totally pissed at the Devil for taking the life of a man I vowed to take myself.

It was just my luck that Brandon would give me the ultimate finger by dying before me just so that I'd be left picking up all the fragile pieces knowing that I'd be stuck in eternity with him when it was my turn.

At 10:38 PM, I finally arrived at the damn hospital.

I was freezing cold from the night's chill, and to top it off my heater failed on me again like the SOB that it was.

By the time I stomped through the front door of the hospital's ER, I was absolutely livid.

I was prepared to yell at his lifeless body.

I had a speech.

I had slurs at the tip of my tongue.

I just wanted to scream.

How dare he leave me without letting me have the last word? How dare he die first?

I was beyond angry; I wanted to cry.

At 10:42 PM, I found out that he was brought back to life a few minutes after he was already pronounced dead by the hands of a rogue doctor not willing to lose another young life on his watch.

The rest of the doctors had already given up hope and pronounced Brandon dead.

It's funny the way life works.

One moment I was ready to yell at him. The next moment I found myself crying over his mangled body.

It was my time of the month so I blamed it on hormones.

Nonetheless, I stayed at his side through the night with Ayden by my side while Troy and Ryan sleeping in the hallway.

His so-called parents never even bothered to show their faces. They were too indifferent to their disowned son. But, not my family.

We took turns every night for the next seven days.

Patience, however, was never my strong suit so I never left his side.

I wanted to be the first person he saw when he woke up.

I wanted to be the first to yell at him.

I wanted the damn honor to be the first.

At 3:21 PM, on the seventh day, he finally opened his eyes.

You would think that someone that just suffered from a life and death situation would be thankful. You would think that they would cry or pray. Do something to make the whole ordeal seem like it meant something.

He should have been thankful for the second chance. Rat bastard, should have said something meaningful. Something memorable.

Damn it.

Something halfway decent, at the least.

Even the doctors told us it was a miracle that he survived.

But not Brandon, no, the first words out of his mouth were "fuck that hurt" before asking for a Guinness and passing out again.

I clenched my fist.

Like any good worst enemy, I knew that I should have suffocated him in his sleep.

Instead, I cried.

At 3:50PM, he opened his eyes again, this time calling me "pathetic".

I forced myself to stifle back my falling tears, but I couldn't mask the anger. "What the hell did you just say, MacKenna?"

Brandon tried to smirk, but failed miserably.

"I. Called. You. Pathetic. Red," he said in a low, harsh drawl obviously struggling for every word. He took a deep breath before trying again. "Cryin' o'er a 'tard like me is just... pathetic."

At 3:52 PM, I stood up from my seat that I had drawn next to his bed, and lifted my chin in a defiant angle.

"Shut up, Scumbag," I said for a lack of anything better to say with arms crossed.

I had spent a good part of my day and most of the night watching him.

Waiting for him.

And that's all he could say to me?!

Well, screw him.

I was so damn exhausted, I couldn't even properly insult him.

Instead, I began to stand up to leave before another tear could fall, but immediately stopped when I felt him grip my hand using the hand that wasn't broken from the crash.

His grasp was weak, the pressure wasn't firm nor was it demanding.

Yet, it held me on my spot nonetheless.

"Get me outta here, Red," he pleaded with dark penetrating eyes. It was a look that I'd never seen before, and never wanted to see ever again.

I stopped.

This wasn't the Brandon MacKenna I knew,.

It couldn't be.

This wasn't the same asshole who tortured me through out my childhood. He wasn't the same guy that broke the jaws of all of my guy friends. He wasn't the same guy that constantly berated me with words. He wasn't the same guy that practically stole my brothers away from me.

This guy was vulnerable. Weak.

This wasn't the guy I grew to hate.

And, it just confused the hell out of me.

His eyes started to close. His grip weakened until finally he let go on my hand.

At exactly 4:21 PM, an alarm went off from one of machines attached to him.

Nurses quickly swamped the room before I could react.

I was immediately shoved out and a crash cart replaced me by his side. They drew up the blinds, leaving me completely in the dark. I had never been so scared for him in my whole entire life. And it pissed me off.

He didn't opened his eyes again for three days.

On the third day, I fell asleep on his chest listening to his heartbeat and enjoying the steady rhythm.

At 1:25 AM, he woke me up by poking my face.

"Something's wrong with you, really," he said when I opened my eyes and made eye contact.

Against the harsh light of the single light to his back, he looked so weak.

So damn weak.

But his chiseled features still showed through. His perfect jawline was still intact. And his piercing, dark blue eyes were still smiling.

"Says the guy died once and then almost died again."

He smiled but winced almost instantly from the pain.

"Might not want to try that again, MacKenna." I said with a weak laugh. "Looks kinda painful."

He leaned back in his bed, and forced a half smirk. "Smile for me then, Red. You don't smile entirely enough," he said, stirring up butterflies in my stomach.

I could only stare back at him.

Damn it, what was he doing to me?

"Hey, stop looking at me like that... I haven't missed your birthday yet have I?"

I shook my head, schooling back my tears.

He remembered my birthday.

The stupid, reckless idiot remembered my birthday.

"Just on time, actually."

"Happy Birthday then, Red... sorry that I couldn't get you a stripper."

At 1:05AM, I realized it wasn't the hormones.

It wasn't the fact that I wanted to be the first to yell at him.

I was getting emotional because I missed his smile.

I missed his sarcasm.

I missed our fights.

I missed yelling at him.

I missed talking to him.

I missed getting on his nerves just to gauge his reaction.

I missed throwing stuff at him when he would walk around half naked after working out knowing that it got me "worked" up.

Heck, I even missed the stupid, disgusting armpit sounds he used to make just to piss me off.

I missed... damn it. I missed him.

I just fucking missed him.

At 1:10 AM, he poked my face again.

"You thinking about kidnapping me, Red? Coz I don't mind. I'll play the poor defenseless maiden. You drag me out of here like a hero. It won't hurt my ego at all. Promise. Actually, I'd rather prefer it."

At 1:11 AM, he squeezed my hand.

"Stop looking at me like that," he said softly, wiping a tear that was cascading down my cheek. "I can handle all of this shit, but seeing you cry is tearing me up. So, fucking just plug it up."

At 1:15 AM, I realized that I loved him.

I was in love with that rat bastard.

I had fallen stupidly, head over heels in love with Brandon MacKenna knowing full well that he'd probably break my heart the first chance he'd get.

And, I hated him for that.

At 1:16 AM, I broke down.

"What the hell MacKenna?! I just can't stop crying just 'cos you tell me to. It's kinda hard considering your attached to so many damn machines looking like the undead. You fucking died once on me already! How the hell am I supposed to deal with this? Huh?"

At 1:18AM, he dragged me into his hospital bed and kissed me.


It should have been awkward. It should have been wrong. Completely utterly wrong. I spent so many years and so much energy into hating him.

And, his breath wasn't exactly the most amazing thing in the world.

At 1:20AM, he pulled away with a small laugh.

"I- I think I need a toothbrush."

At 1:21AM, I laughed at him.

"I completely agree," I said as I tried to get up from my position on his bed.

But, he didn't let me move, his hands gripping my hips to keep me in place.

I knew better, I knew that I was probably hurting him, but a part of me didn't care. A part of me just wanted to stay there. To stay connected with him like that. To just be with him.

When he kissed my on the forehead, I let out a sigh of relief.

"You're gonna be the death of me, Red. But you want to know something?"

I bit my bottom lip. Not prepared for whatever he was going to say next. "W-what?"

"I love you," he said in a low voice. Obviously waiting for me to beat him up or call him a lying piece of shit.

He stroked my cheek softly and I shifted slightly so that my body was still straddling him, but not completely covering him with my weight.

"I can practically hear you thinking, Red," he said with a nervous laugh. "Look, I know you're probably gonna think I'm lying piece of shit that just wants one last kiss before dying but it's not like that," he continued. "I've always loved you, Kylie Rose O'Connor." He said, saying my full name for the first time in the almost ten years that I've known him. God. He was serious.

"Even when you slapped me in the face when I took your first kiss. Even when you told me to go to hell for stealing your brothers from you. And if I live through this, damn it I always will love you."

I just stared at him.

What the fuck.

I knew that I was in love with him, but I never figured that he would feel the same.

Well, shit. What the hell was I supposed to say now?

I love you too, Brandon. I'll just ignore all the shit you put me through over the last couple years like a ditzy romance novel heroine.

"Now, would be a good time to say something, Red."

"I... Damn it Brandon... We've been through so much..."

"I know."

"I can't just forget all the shit you put me through."

"I know."

"I can't just fucking forgive and forget. I'm not a saint."

"I know."

"I can't stand you half the time, and I still think you're an asshole ninety percent of the time."

"I know."

"I really, really, really hate that I love you."

He smirked this time. "I know."

"I'm stubborn, I'm a bitch, I'm not even the smartest or nicest person you know. Why the hell do you love me, anyway?" I finished with frustration.

He smiled despite the pain that I felt in his body. I swear, I had never seen him smile so effortlessly.

He tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear. "I thought you were angel when I caught you sleeping on me and I realized that I didn't want to be dead yet."

He leaned up so that our mouths were only inches apart. "I don't care if your stubborn, hell I am too. I don't care if you're a bitch, I'm a total bastard. I don't care if you're not the smartest person in the world, I like teaching you new things. Fuck. I love teaching you new things. You soak things up like a sponge. I even like that stupid, confused look on your face when you're trying to solve a problem. And I love that you're not the nicest person in the world. You're real. You're honest. There's no bullshit between us..." He paused. Pulling back slightly to wipe the stray tear from my face. "I'm sorry for all the shit I've put you through," he said softly as if he were scared. " But, that's what I love most about you. No matter what, you've always been there for me. You've seen me at my best, and you stuck around at my worst." He suddenly smirked. "Plus, I've always wanted to be an O'Connor."

When I snorted at the last comment he grinned. "I love you, Red. I'm just sorry it's taken me so long to realize that I was."

This time, I couldn't hold back the tears. But, this time, they weren't of anger, frustration, pain, or sorrow.

This time, he didn't get mad at me for crying.

They were tears of happiness and he just kept smiling.

At 1:25 AM, I kissed him, bad breath and all.

At 1:27 AM, I finally got him that damn toothbrush.

And the next time he kissed me, it felt so right. So perfect.

At 1:41 AM, the machines went off again one last time.

Nurses rushed in.

My brothers fought through the doors.

But this time a crash cart didn't replace me at his side.

This time, he wasn't dead or dying.

This time, he had accidentally pulled out the machine regulating his pulse because he was kissing the hell out of me.

At 2:35 AM, I was stupidly, head over heels in love with Brandon MacKenna and he was stupidly, head over heels in love with me, too.

"I love you."

"And I love loving you. Now, shut up and get off my bed before you really do become the death of me."

"Shut up, Scumbag, you know you like me being here."

"You're so fucking lucky that I love you, Red."

This time, I smiled triumphantly as I leaned in for another kiss. "I know."


Blahblahblah. An evil part of me really, really wanted to make this tragic. But, I figure, I've put the two lovebirds through enough shit. What with the whole dead, dying, and let's not forget the bad breath. Haha. Hope you enjoyed.

Edited: September 28, 2010