dedicated to kt-nutella for her lovely comment last chapter c:

At first, when the words tumble out of Imogen's mouth, I think the worst. What feels like ice clenches my heart, clamping the life out of it as I stare at her wordlessly.

My fingers tremble, my knees turn weak and I feel as though I'm about to fall. It's as though Levi senses this, because his hand finds the curve of my back. His hold is warm and an unfamiliar anchor keeping me upright.

"It's your Granddad," Imogen repeats again, swallowing as she tries to find the right words. "Your Mum called. He's ill and in hospital."

He's. He is. Not was. I shakily exhale a quiet breath of relief. The news still shocks me, it makes my stomach drop and I feel ill with worry, but at least he's not dead. He's not dead.

I repeat this to myself as I try to gather myself uncertainly. "I need the phone."

"Here," Imogen says, offering me hers. My fingers are shaking harder when I take it.

Everyone leaves the room when I begin to dial Mum's number on the keypad. Nearly everyone. Levi stays beside me as I inhale shakily and press the last digit before calling.

Dread courses through me as the phone rings. Once, twice, on and on.

My eyes flicker towards Levi's uncertainly as I wait. Large brown eyes filled with concern, warmth and hesitancy meet mine, asking me if he should be here or if I want privacy.

I reach forward and slide my fingers in between his. Levi breathes out quietly as his warm hand envelopes mine, just as someone finally answers.

"Ruby?" I close my eyes at the fraught worry in Mum's voice. "Ruby, I tried calling you but I couldn't get through. Darling, I'm so sorry but your Granddad, have you heard?"

"What's happened?" My voice is a quiet rasp as I can't quite manage to get the words out.

"I don't know, no one really knows for certain," she says, her voice breaking. Her words come in far too quick a rush and I realise how if she doesn't actually know, she's probably guessed.

I think of all the mornings and evenings my parents have spent in quiet worry, whispering in hushed conversations about whatever it is that's going on with Granddad that they keep me out of.

Enough.

"I'm coming home right now," I say at last. "I'll be at the hospital as soon as I can."

Once I hang up the phone, I'm left standing there for a moment, lost over what to do. Levi grabs Max's car keys and Imogen assures me that she'll get my stuff packed and follow us back to Wickworth as soon as possible.

When I'm at the door Oliver suddenly paces forward and encloses me in a tight hug. "You've gotten through this before, Rubes, you can get through it again," he gently whispers into my hair before letting me go. And then he offers me one of his signature smiles, not quite the bright, dazzling audacious ones but something that finally manages to stoke some warmth into my heart.

Then Levi and I are in the car, alone and ready to set off.

I wait for him to turn the ignition when he turns to me.

"I'm sorry, Bug," Levi says quietly. His voice is low and full of concern but at the same time it's steady, the only firm thing I can hold onto. "I promise, it'll be alright."

"But what if it won't be?" I breathe, shutting my eyes and blocking out the thoughts that contemplate the worst.

"Then we'll all be here beside you," he says gently. "I'll be here beside you."

And it almost makes me feel better.

But when he turns the ignition key and we set off, for the first time I'm regretting everything. I regret going somewhere with Levi with no service, I regret going on holiday so far away and I regret going away at all. I never should have. I should have stayed home where I could've been at the hospital, straight away.

If something happens and I'm not there, I'll never forgive myself.

Levi doesn't say anything on the way home. He doesn't need to. Every time I feel like the world will disappear completely beneath my feet, he reaches forward and briefly squeezes my fingers in his and it's enough to keep me breathing a little more evenly once his grip returns to the wheel.

I don't know what the time is when we finally arrive at the hospital car park. All I can see is inky, deep night when I look out the car window as the engine dies.

Levi sits quietly beside me as I remain slumped in the seat, suddenly terrified to move. All the worst case scenarios run through my mind. That Granddad's drinking again, that it's liver disease, cirrhosis, all the terrible things we thought we escaped years ago and suddenly my throat is closing up.

The empty shock gives way to a sob I'm not quick enough to stop and suddenly I'm crying soundlessly. Levi immediately unbuckles his seatbelt and takes me in his arms. I'm taken back to the moment when he was drunk and upset and I was hugging him just like this, trying to let him know that it'll all be okay.

Levi pulls me close against him and I tightly wrap my arms around him, losing myself in his steady warmth. "I'm not ready for this," I sob against his shirt, feeling increasingly embarrassed about how I'm leaving a damp patch there. "I'm being so selfish. But I can't stop it. I can't stop crying and I can't stop thinking about what happened before, it's so stupid."

Levi rests his head against mine, dropping a soft kiss against my forehead as he holds me close. "Don't be an idiot," he says gently and, strangely, the familiarity of calling each other names helps ease my breath. "You're not being selfish and you can cry all you want. I can't imagine how terrifying this must be, but Ruby, I know you. You can get through this."

I let his words slowly sink in as I close my eyes, trying to calm down before letting out a shivering breath. I try to desperately tell myself that he's right.

"Are you really calling me an idiot during a time like this?" I joke quietly in a quavering voice and I don't need to look up to know that Levi's grinning.

"You bet I am, Bug," he replies warmly. I never would've guessed a name so annoying would offer such comfort and relief.

Pulling away, I wipe the back of my hand across my eyes and offer him a watery, brief smile. And then we get out of the car together.

At reception, I'm surprised to see Dad already standing there. I don't know if he's waiting for me or on his way out for a breather but when he sees me his shoulders slacken and he paces forward with his arms open.

His hold is brief and tight and when he pulls away I notice how red and swollen his eyes are. This hug doesn't comfort me like Levi's or Oliver's, instead it worsens the fear tightening around my ribs.

"How's Granddad?" I ask desperately. "Is he alright? What's happened?"

Dad opens his mouth but shakes his head, trying to find the right words, just like Imogen. But I don't care, I just want to know.

"Has Granddad been drinking again?" I say at last. Dad flinches. Being back at the hospital reminds me all over again of the endless visits, the horrid worry... To be back here again feels like a cruel joke neither of us wants to believe.

But then Dad shakes his head again. "No, no. Thank god. It's not that."

"Then what?" I ask earnestly.

Dad swallows. I notice how broken he looks, from the bags under his eyes to his untidy clothes he's visibly exhausted.

"Would you like to visit him?" he asks instead of answering my question.

I feel familiar frustration but worry overcomes it as I nod before glancing over at Levi.

He nods towards the chairs in the waiting area, with his hands in his pockets and wearing a reassuring smile. "I'll be here."

Dad finally notices Levi's presence and he looks surprised. I can imagine why considering that he's never met him before and I've not really mentioned anything about him. All this time Levi's been someone of my own, to get annoyed by, become friends with and fall in love with in almost as if in secret.

"Thanks Levi," I whisper, my lips lifting a fraction to return his smile.

Dad doesn't mention anything, instead he just nods at Levi and I guess he must realise that he's a friend.

Then Dad leads me towards Granddad. We go down what feels like endless corridors and turnings until we end up at a part of the hospital much quieter than the rest. We turn into a long room that's lined with curtained beds either side of it. Most of them are empty, save for a few- like the one near the front in which a frail-looking man lies who I don't want to believe is there.

My eyes well with tears as I take a step closer towards Granddad. He's asleep. His weathered skin is ash grey, his hair is whiter than ever and it's clear he's lost so much weight from how frail he looks.

"How did this happen?" I whisper quietly. It all feels so sudden. But deep down, I know something like this never is. I feel new tears track down my cheeks and Dad's leading me back out when he realises that I'm upset.

Outside in the corridor, it's no easier to breathe. All I can feel is overwhelming bewilderment that sends my thoughts into disarray.

"Dad... Your granddad," Dad begins, his voice wavering and uncertain, "He- he's here because he's really ill."

"How?"

"He's- he's been really depressed," Dad says at last.

I inhale unsteadily, not knowing what to say. I don't know if the truth feels like a horrid revelation or confirmation.

"He hasn't been taking care of himself," Dad continues hesitantly. "Even when your mum and I visited he pretended that he was, he made out everything was alright. But he's been really unwell, Ruby."

"I don't understand." I frustrate myself with such a lame response, but it's all I have. It's as though my mind's on stand-by, it's unable to process anything. "How- why has it got so bad?"

"I don't know. I... I think it might be because it's their fiftieth anniversary this year. His and Mum's," Dad says. My heart sinks as I remember that it is their fiftieth this year. The golden one.

"He hasn't been eating or drinking properly, he's not been sleeping. The whole reason he's in here is because he was found wandering the roads at night. He almost got run over," Dad finally explains. I can barely understand what he's saying, barely comprehend the fact that Granddad's gotten so bad.

Dad sounds so broken it makes me feel shattered on the inside. It reminds me of how difficult it was to mend this grief the first time round, and here we are again.

And then I stop feeling so upset and confused. Because I realise, that all this time, they knew. He and Mum knew. I glance up at him, glaring at him through tears. "But you didn't tell me, you and Mum knew he wasn't well. You kept this from me."

Dad shakes his head, looking more distraught. "He's my father, I wanted to deal with it without worrying you. You had exams, school work."

"I don't care!" I cry. "He's my Granddad." Granddad. The one who taught Evie and I how to ride a bike and spin sycamore seeds. The one who kept me up all night with the best stories and had the loudest and best laugh at Christmas dinners.

Laughter feels like such a faraway thing in this cold, sterile corridor.

"And 'deal with it'?" I repeat Dad's words angrily. "With what? Depression, anxiety? I know what it feels like to have to cope with your own mind! I could've helped."

Dad just stands there, sadly and quietly with nothing to say. I feel my frustration boil over and realise I'm holding back from crying again.

"You had no right to keep this from me," I say quietly. My voice is cold and final.

I push past my father and rush down the corridor, away from all this. My steps turn faster the further I go and soon I'm running.

I rush past Levi in the waiting area, refusing to listen to his calls after my name, and head for the car park. There, I find Dad's car which I have a spare set of keys to.

Unlocking it, I get into the driver's seat, turn the ignition on and just drive. I drive past the hospital, past my home and I carry on driving, not knowing where I'm going.

The only thing I'm certain of is how I need to get away from everything. As far as I can.