Bekah

The next few days were rough. Zack hated the wheelchair. He hated me pushing the wheelchair. He hated the breathing exercises and he hated me reminded him every hour to do them. I insisted on taking off work from Vengeance University. Zack, as both my boss and boyfriend, told me not to. However I, as his girlfriend and not his employee, told him to shut up and do his breathing exercises. I needed to be home in case Zack needed me and I needed to stay home to make sure he was doing his ten deep breaths per hour.

"Beks, seriously, I don't need you to watch me like I'm some incompetent child," Zack glared at me.

I sighed. "I'm not treating you like a child. I just want you to get better."

"And what? You think I don't want that?" He asked hatefully.

I groaned. "Stop turning everything I say into an argument, Zack. I'm serious."

"Or what? What are you going to do? Leave?" He shot back. I stared back at him for a long moment before getting up from the couch and going upstairs before I said something I didn't mean.

What I would have told him was if he kept acting like this for the next eight weeks our relationship wasn't going to survive. But that wasn't anywhere near the truth. If Zack acted this way for the next eight weeks it would make things hard but I would never leave him, despite what he thinks. I loved him too much to leave, even if I didn't necessarily like him right now.

I jumped into the shower, hoping Zack was out of his mood by time I was done. I knew these next few weeks were going to be rough, but I didn't think they were going to be rough 24/7. It didn't help that I was tired. Zack could never get and stay comfortable throughout the night and his constant shifting kept me up all night. That was another reason why I wanted to take off from work; I don't think I could function well enough to help take care of a business. I didn't want to tell that to Zack though. I didn't want him to feel bad for keeping me awake at night or tell me to go sleep in the guest room. I wanted to be near him, even if that meant losing sleep.

I knew part of Zack's attitude problem was because he was tired. God, I wish there was something I could do to help him. I sighed, even if there was a way I could help him he would probably tell me he didn't need my help.

I got out of the shower feeling refreshed and a little more awake, after dressing in one of Zack's shirts and some leggings I went back downstairs. Zack was sitting on the couch where I left him, his broken leg elevated on top of the pillow on the coffee table.

"So, you're just going to use the upstairs as a way to get away from me?" Zack asked me. His tone was no longer harsh, instead it seemed defeated, hurt.

"Of course not," I replied nonchalantly. "I needed to take a shower." I walked into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water. When I returned to the living room I sat next to Zack. I laced our fingers together and tucked his hand between my thighs, not in a sexual way but in a comforting way. I kiss his shoulder before asking, "Are you ready for another pain pill?"

He shook his head. "No, I'm fine. The pain isn't that bad. It's just this fucking cast. It's itchy and hot and annoying."

"We should call around; see if someone can switch your cast..." I started but Zack began to shake his head, so I stopped midsentence.

I already called. No one wants to mess with it for four weeks since it's already got a cast on it. At my four week checkup they said they'd be willing to cut it off and put me in something else. I guess they're worried my leg is going to fall off or something."

I gave him a weak smile. "At least you've got the first week down."

He returned my smile and gave me a peck on the lips. "Yeah, one week down and a million to go."

I decide to change the subject. "Are you hungry?"

He sighs. "Not for food." He gives me a look. His eyes are filled with lust and a barely audible sigh escapes my lips.

"You know we can't," I mumble.

Zack groans. He throws his head back dramatically on the couch. "I'm so horny."

I was too, honestly. I knew I had to keep what was best for Zack in mind, thought. We had to wait. We had to wait for his muscles to get better. His bruised ribs had to be better. "I told you, as soon as you hit the halfway mark if you've done your breathing exercises like you're supposed to, I'll give you a blowjob."

"My ribs are will be almost healed in a few days, so how about a you're almost at the halfway mark BJ?" He asks me with a smile.

I smiled too and shook my head. "Nope, that wasn't the deal."

"You suck," he groans.

"I will in a few days," I wink before jumping off the couch. "I’m going to make some grilled cheese sandwiches. Do you want one?"

"If I can't have sex, I guess a grilled cheese sandwich is the next best thing," he tells me.

I chuckled before walking off to the kitchen. I let the thoughts take control as I began to cook the sandwiches on autopilot.

I was hoping the next few weeks went by quickly. I hated Zack being in a wheelchair just as much as he did. Okay, maybe not as much but close, real close. It's been close to a week and I was already over it. Fuck, I missed sex. It had already been three months since I had it, and now thanks to the wreck it was going to be at least five to seven more weeks. I guess I should be happy, because if the wreck didn't happen, the guys would still be on tour and I would have had to wait three more months.

I didn't understand why stuff like this kept happening with me and Zack. It was like our relationship was doomed, like fate kept trying to pull us away from one another. Zack coud have easily died in that wreck, and I was supposed to - no, I should have died when the shooting occurred. I didn't understand it; it was like we were cursed. Or maybe I was the cursed one, maybe I wasn't supposed to live a happy life.

Zack's phone rings and I hear him answer it. His voice is muffled but it sounded like a pleasant phone call. Which was good because I don't think either of us was in the state to handle any more bad news. I finish the sandwiches and then put them on a plate. I cut them diagonally and then walk back into the living room.

"Babe, can you grab me a beer?" He asks quietly. He's still on the phone.

"Okay but just one. You can't drink much while on your pain pills." I tell him sternly, handing him the plate.

"More reason to stop taking them," Zack calls after me. I chuckled as he apologized to whoever he was on the phone with and I disappeared into the kitchen.

When I emerged, Zack was no longer on the phone. I opened his beer and handed it to him and then opened mine while sitting next to him.

"You're the best," Zack tells me with a mouth full of bread and cheese.

"I know," I tell him, grabbing a triangle from the plate and taking a bite. "Who was that on the phone?"

Zack swallows his mouth full of beer. "Brian. Apparently, since it's been a week and they haven't found the driver or the semi and their leads are fizzling out, a fan started something called a GoFundMe account. I guess fans are donating money and they're going to give it to whoever gives information that leads to an arrest."

"Oh, wow." I said. "That's crazy."

Zack nods in agreement. "Yeah the fans are pissed. Some are pissed because of the canceled concerts, but more are just really angry because someone was so reckless. It's crazy how protective they are of us, you know? So they're trying to help find the bastard. They started the donations this morning and already have like a hundred thousand dollars and still counting."

"That's amazing." I comment. "Damn, they're crazy. I can't believe someone would think to do that." But I could believe it. Because Avenged Sevenfold fans were insane, they were protective.

"Yeah, isn't it great? I just don't know how the band is going to make it up to them. I mean, after Jimmy died, we didn't know if we wanted to continue, you know? And then we decided we had to, for the fans. They made us want to. And now...this? Thousands of fans have donated, Beks. How are we supposed to show our gratitude for this?" Zack asked me. Our sandwiches are gone now but he's still holding the plate firmly. I take it from him and gently lay it on the coffee table in front of us.

I shuffle so I'm on my knees on the couch, facing him. "You want to know how to repay them?" I ask, grabbing his hand. I get distracted by his green eyes from a brief moment. "You do your breathing exercises. You don't try to rush your recovery. You take your antibiotics. You stay in your wheelchair unless I'm there to help you because I don't know what I'd do if you fell and hurt yourself more."

He rolled his eyes. "Oh, Beks, don't start with that bullshit."

"It's not bullshit, Zack. Seriously, the fans just want you around. They want the band around, and without you there is no band. You need your leg to heal so you can jump around on stage and give the fans the show they love to see. You need to let it heal and let it heal correctly."

Zack laughed slightly. "Without you, there's no band," he mocked.

I groaned. "Stop! I'm serious, you just said you guys didn't want to continue without your best friend, so what makes you think they'd want to continue without you?"

"I never said they'd want to continue without me. But...I don't know. I just know they would. We continued without Jimmy, so why not continue without me?"

"Would you continue without Matt? Brian? Johnny?" I asked him.

"Well, no but..."

"Exactly."

He sighed. "It's different, Beks."

"How?" I asked.

He shrugged. "It just is."

"Okay," I said defeated. I was tired; I didn't want to argue anymore.

Zack didn't say anything as I got up from the couch. I picked the dirty plate up and took it into the kitchen. It was obvious he was getting depressed. I didn't understand why he felt like he wasn't an important part of the band. I didn't understand why he thought Matt, Johnny and Brian would be so willing to move on without their best friend. Again. They did it once and I know it was hard for them. I know they wouldn't want to do it again. I just wished Zack would realize that. I sighed. One week down, at least five more to go.

Notes

Title credit: Avenged Sevenfold "Crimson Day"