Dimon Feels

***

Time seemed to stand still as everything happened in slow motion. Simon stood, starting at Demi, for what felt like a lifetime - but was merely a split second.

No. No.

This wasn't real.

You saw this on TV, not real life.

That blood couldn't be hers.

Did she fall on the knife?

Was it my fault?

Did I land on top of her?

So much blood... Demi's blood.

It couldn't be real.

He fell to his knees and grabbed her hands.

'Demi? Demi, answer me, please! Please be ok..'

She stared at him with weak, frightened eyes. 'Am I going to die?'

Simon couldn't bring himself to answer. Desperately, he pressed against the stab wound trying to stop the bleeding.

'FOR GOD'S SAKE, SOMEBODY HELP US!' he yelled.

Some of the cops had noticed what had happened, and were frantically surrounding her, dialling for paramedics.

Demi felt no pain - she felt the heat of the sticky blood seeping through her clothes and pooling onto the ground, but her body just seemed numb. Simon's pained face was the last thing she saw as her vision blacked out and she slipped into blissful oblivion.

*** 

Simon held Demi's hand, standing by the hospital bed as the doctors tried desperately to revive her.

'It's no good,' sighed one of the doctors. 'She's lost too much blood.'

'Do something, please!' cried Simon in desperation. Demi's face was lifeless and pale... he couldn't lose her. The life support machine beeped faintly in the background, before letting out one final long beep. The doctors all stood back and removed their masks before turning to Simon. 'We're sorry, Mr Cowell. It's too late. We've lost her.'

Simon shook his head. 'No. No... It's not true...'

'There's nothing we could do, Mr Cowell. Mr Cowell? Mr Cowell?'

Simon jerked awake in his chair as the doctor touched his arm. 'Mr Cowell? Sorry to wake you, but we have an update on Miss Lovato's condition.'

Simon nodded, staring at the hospital waiting room's blank white walls in an attempt to stop himself throwing up after the horrific nightmare hed just had. All he could do was pray that it wouldn't become a reality.

'Her condition is the same; we haven't managed to bring her into conciousness and the wound is very deep, but fortunately there doesn't seem to be any damage to her internal organs and we've stopped the bleeding. We just need to ensure she doesn't lose any more blood, or her life will be in danger.'

'So... is she going to make it?'

'There's a good chance that she will, Mr Cowell, but it's not a guarantee. We're sending her to theatre now to fix the wound up. If it's successful, and we manage to revive her after that, there is a good chance she will survive. I must warn you, however, that the blood loss may have starved her brain of oxygen - we don't know yet if she's suffered any damage, but this could incur memory loss or even inability to perform basic functions such as speaking. Worst case scenario, she may never come out of a coma.'

Simon nodded quietly, trying to proccess this information without breaking down.

'The operation will take a few hours and it's very late - I'd advise you to get some rest. You can sleep in here.'

The doctor left him and he put his head in his hands. The room seemed to be spinning. His phone hadn't stopped buzzing since he got into the hospital, but he couldn't bring himself to answer it. It buzzed again, and he ripped it from his pocket, threw it accross the room and watched it shatter into a thousand tiny pieces. The past 24 hours had been an emotional whirlwind and he simply couldn't cope with it any more. He got up, staggered over to the bin, and vomited into it.

***

Simon stood outside the operating theatre, waiting for Demi. He was desperate to see her, to hold her again. Suddenly, the door opened, and two nurses came out, wheeling Demi on a hospital bed. She was awake. 'Demi!' he called, rushing to her side and putting a hand on her shoulder. Her head turned slowly to face him, and she frowned.

'Who are you?'

Simon was stunned. What did she mean?

'It's me, Demi... it's Simon!'

She recoiled. 'Get your hands off me, pervert!' she shouted.

He didn't know what to do or say. He looked at the nurses, who sighed. 'We're sorry, Mr Cowell. She's suffered terrible oxygen loss to the brain. She's struggling to remember anything.' Simon shook his head. He went to hold Demi's hand, but as soon as their skin touched, blood seeped through her skin and stained his hand. He pulled away, and tried grabbing her arm instead, but more blood poured from her, soaking his hands and his shirt...

Simon jolted awake. The cup of water he'd been holding had spilt all over his shirt. Shivering with memory the nightmare he'd just had, he stood up and tried to squeeze the water out of his sleeves. Looking through the pane of glass separating him from the hospital hallway, he could see Demi's doctor talking seriously to two other staff, so he got up and walked hurriedly to the door, rushing to catch up with him as he started to walk away.

'Doctor - doctor! Any news on Demi?'

He turned around to face Simon, and smiled.

'Ah, Mr Cowell. I was just going to check on her before I came and found you. She's going to be fine!'

Simon breathed a sigh of relief.

'She's come out of the coma, but we're waiting for the anaesthetic to wear off before we can properly assess any lasting brain damage. It all seems fine, though. Come with me; you can see her.'

'Thank you, doctor. I appreciate it.'

They both hurried to the ward Demi was in - as soon as the curtains were pulled back, Simon went to her and held her hand. She was sleeping peacefully and the colour had returned to her face. Aside from the stitches on her lip and a few small bruises, you wouldn't know what she had been through; her wound was hidden under the hospital gown she had been dressed in and she still looked as perfectly beautiful as ever. She stirred, and her eyelids fluttered.

'Demi?'

Two doctors bent down and started wiring her to oxygen masks and funny looking machines.

'What's happening?'

'Don't worry - she's coming into conciousness. We just need to moniter her and make sure she has enough oxygen.'

Her eyelids fluttered again, and slowly she opened them. She looked up at Simon with confused eyes. For a second, he feared that his nightmare had come true and she'd forgotten him - but then she smiled. 'Simon,' she sighed. 'Am I in hospital?'

He nodded. 'Yes, you are. You're going to be ok.'

He squeezed her hand tight and she squeezed back. Finally, they were safe.

***