My first story! Yay! I hope everyone enjoys reading it!
Prologue: Scattered
He had been gone ninety one days.
I ran.
My chest was constricting, making it hard to breathe. The world around me felt like it was closing in on me. My legs hurt, my side was cramping, my head was pounding, my heart was doing jumping jacks.
Two thousand one hundred and eighty four hours.
I don't know how long I ran or how far. I could see the building looming in front of me as I neared and I ran faster. Emotions struck me. Joy, despair, anger, relief. I didn't know which one to grab onto. Didn't know which one to embrace. I felt like I was spinning, drowning, dying, dancing.
One hundred, thirty one thousand, and forty minutes.
I didn't stop running even when I hit the door. Just barreled right through into the lobby. Pale faces stared at me in confusion and fear. I ignored them all and ran. I ignored the voices who yelled at me to stop, avoided the hands who reached out to grab me, blocked everyone out of my mind.
I ran.
Up the stairs, through winding hallways. Past people in wheelchairs, past rooms filled with the sick and injured, past children and old men.
I ran.
Seven million, eight hundred and sixty two thousand and four hundred seconds.
His room came into view. I could see a rather large man speaking to a doctor in the hallway. Their voices were low and inaudible. He turned at the sound of my foot steps and I recognized the face of Tank.
He was a big man, probably one of the biggest I would come to meet. He was dressed in all black - work clothes - and his face was hard, impassive, intimidating. He gave off a terrifying vibe but anyone who knew him could tell you that he wasn't as tough as he appeared to be.
Surprise lit up his face before it was quickly followed by anger. I suspected as much. He had called me as soon as the news had came in. Then, as if he was playing some cruel prank, he had ordered me to stay away. No explanation, no nothing. Just a terse message and he hung up. I felt almost betrayed. It was like telling your little kid you had baked brownies but that he couldn't have any.
Tank should have known I wouldn't have listened.
He should have known that I wouldn't - that I could not- stay away.
Gone. For three months. Proclaimed dead.
"Stephanie, no-!" Tank was reaching for me but I was already past him. I was too scared and mad and confused to stop and listen to him give me a lame ass explanation of why I wasn't allowed in.
Ninety days.
When I saw him, lying in bed with an IV in his arm and bandages wrapped around his limbs, I burst into laughter. He looked horrible. Scars, blood, greenish tinge to his skin, monitors snaked around his body. He looked close to death.
No sight could have made me any happier.
He was back.
Tank was behind me and he was saying something but I wasn't listening. I couldn't listen.
Ranger was here. He was here.
Then I was crying. Because he was hurt. Because he looked so peaceful lying there. Because I had missed him. Because he had returned.
His eyelids flickered open and they instantly snapped to me. I felt sadness and pain and happiness clutch my throat and I couldn't speak.
Tank was grabbing me and I was pushing him away. His voice was low in my ear but I just could not hear him over all the emotion welling in my body, deafening out all sound.
I stepped forward. Tank pulled me back forcibly. I ripped my arm out of his grip and ran to Ranger's side. He fidgeted, darted his gaze here and there, opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. His cold hand clasped around my wrist hard and his eyes seemed panicked.
My heart began to beat wildly at his touch and I almost seeped right into him to reunite my body with his. I felt resentment swirl in my chest, aimed at Tank. Why had he been trying to rob me of seeing him? What could have possibly worried Tank enough to try and cut me off from this man, this man I loved, this man I had missed so terribly. I wasn't going to hurt him. I would be gentle. I would be here for him. I would tell him every second of every day that I loved him. That I needed him. I would apologize for not confessing my feelings sooner. For having this epiphany only because something terrible had happened. That Morelli and I were done and I-
Suddenly, an intense, searing pain exploded in my face. My vision became distorted. I started to fall. Stars danced in front of my eyes. I was blacking out.
I felt someone lift me up and drag me out. Before the door closed, I caught a glimpse of Ranger thrashing around in the bed and four doctors surrounded him, holding him down. Restraints were being applied to his wrists, a needle was stabbed into his neck.
It was only until I heard Tank speaking sternly to me - trying to determine if I could see him, that I'd be okay, why hadn't I listened to him? - did I realize that Ranger had hit me.