Unbroken | Ashton Irwin's Little Sister (COMPLETED)

Chapter 30

I can see that you're sad, even when you smile, even when you laugh. I can see it in your eyes, deep inside you wanna cry

***

| Bailey |

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Bailey," mom warns.

"Mom," I fire back, mocking her tone.

She sighs and leans back in her chair. "Darling, this will be good for you," she assures. "Xander might in it," she adds in a coaxing voice. While my senses perk up at the mention of his name since I haven't seen or talked to him in a while, I'm angry she's still trying to make me go.

"Mom, any number of things could go wrong. I could get in a fight or get offended or offend someone else or contract a deadly disease because my body isn't strong enough to fight it." I'm aware how unconvincing these excuses sound, but I really don't want to go sit around a group of other cancer kids talking about how hard life is.

"Bailey, you're going, I've already alerted the group therapist," mom says sternly.

I glare at her. I swear, if I were healthy, I would get up and run down the hallway to hide somewhere so I wouldn't have to go. Then again, if I were healthy, I wouldn't be in this situation. Helplessly, I let out an angry huff and turn onto my side so my back is facing her. I hear her sigh and I glare even harder at the window.

A little while later I hear Ashton's familiar voice as he greets mom. They whisper quietly for a minute which makes me even more irritated because they're undoubtedly talking about me. I'm right here, there's no need to whisper. I continue to glare at the wall until I hear footsteps. Ashton appears as he bends down to meet my eyes, so I close them.

"Bailey, come on. It's just a support group, it's to help you," Ashton says gently. I roll over onto my left side so I'm not facing my brother anymore and send mom an angry glare when she's still sitting in the chair on my other side. I let out another huff and roll onto my back, childishly pulling the white blankets over my head so I don't have to look at either of them.

"Very mature," Ashton teases sarcastically.

I grab a pillow from under me and whip it at him. "I don't want to talk about it!" I snap.

"Why?" Ashton questions.

I roll my eyes even though neither him nor mom can see me, "Because I don't want to go!" I say as if it's obvious. It should be since I'm clearly upset over it.

"Why not?" Ashton questions further.

I yank out another pillow and throw it at him. "Because, I don't!" I exclaim angrily.

"That's it? No reason?" Ashton asks.

I huff once more. "I don't want to sit in a circle full of other sick people and listen to them talk about their sob stories. I don't want to listen to the stupid therapist try to comfort me on my bad days because no matter what she says its not going to change my attitude. Recovering isn't a team sport, you're on your own and only you can do it. What's the point?" I huff again. It's starting to get very warm under the blankets so I finally emerge my head to look at Ashton.

"Bai, mom is just trying to help. Dr. Phelps recommended it and maybe it could help. You might make a friend who can understand what you're going through and know how to help you," he says softly. I turn to look at him and his expression falls. That's when I realize that my eyes are filled with unshed tears. I didn't realize how much this was stressing me out. I quickly blink the tears away and shrug.

"Okay," I mumble.

Mom smiles and sits next to me on my bed. "It's going to alright, sweetie," she says as I lean into her.

I just close my eyes and try to relax, since apparently support group starts tomorrow. Before long, I'm fast asleep.

***

I'm awoken the next morning by a nurse as she checks my vitals to make sure I'm stable enough to be up and walking. I don't know why she's so concerned considering they've had me walking since two days after my surgery.

A little while later I'm cleared to go so I put on a hoodie and sweat pants and let the nurse wheel me to a room down the hall. Mom kisses me and wishes me luck and I just stay silent, not really sure what to expect.

"Well, well, well, our paths cross yet again," a familiar sarcastic voice says. I smile as I turn and see Xander slouched down in one of the chairs in the corner of the room. He gets up and slowly makes his way over to a couch so I can sit next to him as the nurse who insisted on wheeling me here leaves. I can't help but notice how much worse he looks. He had to bring an IV with him here and he walks slowly and wobbly, like his legs could give out at any moment. His eyes are dull and lifeless and his entire body, face included, looks like a skeleton. He has bags so prominent under his eyes it almost looks as if he got into a fight.

"Hey," I smile, breaking from my thoughts. He smirks, "Still liking what you see? I'd say I've never looked more alive," he teases and I try to suppress a laugh. "Shush," I whisper as a few more people file into the room. He just gives me a warm smile; always smiling, no matter how bad he gets.

It turns out that support group wasn't too awfully terrible. The support group leader, Mrs. Sharpe, had everyone go around and say our name, age, favorite thing to do, something interesting about ourself, and our diagnosis. I guess today was just an ice breaker so we could all get to know each other. Although I don't particularly like most of the kids in it — there's a boy named Max who hates everyone because he lost his leg and can't play soccer anymore and girl named Rachael who insulted everyone because she's so bitter — there was one girl named Lily who seems genuine. She's fairly quiet and prefers to keep to herself, but at least she's not condemning everyone else for something none of us can control.

"I'm glad I got to see you today," Xander says as we walk back to his room. "You should text me more often." I smile as we approach my room; the nurses walking behind us are totally killing the mood. "Okay," I say before turning into the doorway of my room. As much as I hate to admit it, today's events have tired me out completely. I climb into bed and my nurse reattaches my IV's. I don't know where mom and Ashton are, but right now I'm too tired to care as I'm sound asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow.

A/N - I don't really know how to feel about this chapter, but oh well, I hope you like it:) thoughts on Bailey and Xander? On the support group? Thoughts or predictions? Have a wonderful day/night, ily:)

Xoxo - Em :)