I haven't written in … forever. I am finding myself with some spare time again and trying to use it for a more creative purpose. POV will switch around but I'll denote the change. Takes place after 'Out of Control'.
I own nothing!
(POV CC)
I wake up in a hospital bed. I do an inventory of my body. I start at my toes, and feel pain in my right ankle, my hips, my ribs, my chest, and my left shoulder. I started wracking my brain trying to remember what happened. How I got here.
I remember sitting on the floor out side that – cage Vincent had locked himself in.
I remember the sound of his voice, and the broken look on his face as he whispered "it's you". Suddenly the pain in my body intensifies.
I remember wanting to break down, but holding strong.
I remember Vincent turning back towards the wall looking away from me again.
I remember the pitiful look on JT's face when I glanced up at him.
I remember walking out of the apartment without another word spoken.
I remember getting to my car and speeding away, trying to out run the pain.
I remember the panic, the pain swelling up in my chest and overwhelming me. The pain in my body crests and threatens to pull me under again. I fight it, pushing the call button trying not to lose consciousness.
Nurses rush in fussing over me. I hear them asking me questions but I can't quite make out what they are saying. It feels like my chest is about to explode. I can't breathe. The trembling of my body causing shooting pains all over. I close my eyes and blackness surrounds me.
(POV CC)
When I open them again I'm turned on my right side, and groggy. I know where I am, I remember how I got here, why I lost control of the car. I gently roll onto my back trying to get more comfortable. I see Heather sitting in a chair to the left of my bed. She is fast asleep.
"Heather" I call testing to see if she'll stir. She doesn't as much as twitch. She's always been a heavy sleeper. I reach for the cell phone I see laying on the table, not quite sure I recognize it. I want to call Vincent. I want Vincent here. I dial his burner number, slightly surprised I remember it, and I hear someone pick up. I hear someone breathe. I don't hear anyone speak. I want to ask him to come to me. I want to tell him I need him. But nothing comes out. All I hear is JT's voice ringing in my head "you didn't think about how this would affect Vincent".
The symphony of breathing is interrupted by the muted noise of the hospital P.A system; someone paging a Dr. Nichols if I heard properly. I hear a gruff growled voice I memorized months ago bark out "Name".
I honestly don't know what the name of this hospital is, so I stay silent. I don't know how to tell him where I am and what I need so my tongue lays heavy and motionless in my mouth.
"20 min." is all I hear before the dial tone rings loudly in my ears. Shit! What have I done?
(POV VK)
When I hang up the phone I yell for JT. I know he's dead asleep. I know it will take him a few minutes to shake the sleep off and come out here.
She would have gone straight home. I could see in her face her unhappiness when she left. She wouldn't have gone anywhere but home.
What hospitals are between here and her home …..?
She usually takes 94 so there are only two places she could be Beth Israel or St. Lukes. I start calling those hospitals looking for her.
JT shuffles up to my gate and I motion to the lock. He looks incredulously at me and doesn't budge.
"I need Catherine Chandeliers' room number please." I listen to the women ask me what relation I am to her and a plethora of angst filled thoughts swarm my mind. What relation am I? Stalker, Savior, Pet … "Brother" I bark out. The look on JT's face intensifies. I hear him muttering something about this not being Kentucky last time he checked but I'm too focused on the women on the phone to process it. "Room 546" she says and I hang up as she offers to connect me.
JT has not unlocked anything yet and I know why. If Catherine wasn't in the hospital, I'd agree with him. "JT" is all I say before he unlocks the door and starts unwinding the chains.
"So what has the princess gotten her self into now?" JT asks, well more like grumbles. I know he's holding back, I know he wants to lecture me at the top of his voice about how dangerous this is, how selfish she's being – how whipped I am. But the look on my face must have been enough to stop him.
"I'm not sure. I got a call from an unknown number, I could hear her breathing. I heard doctors being paged. She wouldn't speak. I found her. She is at St. Lukes in the ICU. I don't know anything else." I was pacing. I could tell JT was almost done unwinding the chains, and this only increased my restlessness.
"You're going to a hospital? Not that it would stop Batman, but at the very least, visiting hours are over." JT mumbles as I push past him and run out the front door.
(POV VK)
I enter the hospital from the roof. I did my internship here. I know the halls, know the stairwells, and know the security guards routines. As I reach her room I pause. It's 1 AM. She should be asleep. I listen carefully. I hear two distinct patterns of steady deep breathing, and one short and shallow breath pattern. Someone's awake.
Silently, and very Batman-esque I enter the room. I can't see her yet. The first bed has the curtain drawn blocking my view. What if she's not the one awake? What if it's Heather, or Tess … Or Evan?
Really none of that matters as I have to see she's ok. I finish crossing the room and am simultaneously filled with relief and anxiousness. She is laying very still, eyes staring unseeing at the ceiling. She has a bandage on her face; her left arm is strapped down to her chest. I can faintly see the outline of the ace wraps around her rib cage. And the bulky cast enclosing her right ankle is glaringly obvious.
I move to the foot of her bed and grab her chart. I look carefully through the notations. MVA jumps out at me first, followed by the notation that she has been put on Klonopin. Why was she given anti-anxiety medication?
She looks at me, and her heart races. A very impressive feat seeing how much Klonopin she's been given. Her eyes are wet with unshed tears; he breathing is labored, probably due to the broken ribs. And I see fear written clearly across her face. But fear of what? Fear of me? Fear I will lose control? … Fear I will leave?
Her eyes slant to her sleeping sister and back to me, as if in warning, as if I was unaware of the sleeping girl to Cat's left.
(3RD PERSON POV)
"What Happened?"
"You're out?"
Simultaneously they had spoken, but emotionally they couldn't have been more out of sync. Vincent was anxious, harsh, demanding, and worried. Catherine was tentative, soft, hopeful, and relieved.
Vincent closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "I needed to see you were ok, find out what happened. Then I have to go back … in. We haven't made any progress on my …. situation."
"So if I keep my mouth shut you'll stay with me?"
Catherine knew he would have learned enough from her chart to know whether or not she'd be fine, but emotionally she was a wreck. Emotionally she needed him yoked to her bed side. And she would use any ploy available to her to make it happen.
Vincent shot her a look making it clear that if she thought she was being cute he didn't agree.
Catherine knew she was being coy. Catherine knew from experience that when positions had been reversed she had been furious with Vincent for downplaying his health issues. But she couldn't help trying to satisfy her need for him. "I don't want you to leave." Shamed Catherine looked down at her wringing hands "I need you to stay here with me. I know I'm being selfish but …. Please"
Catherine looked up and made eye contact with Vincent again. Love and desperation shone so brightly from Catherine's eyes Vincent almost shielded his for fear of being blinded. "Stay"
She had never thought of herself as having a fear of abandonment. But finding Vincent had begun healing a wound inflicted on her when her mother died. The thought of losing him now had picked the newly formed scab clean off leaving her bleeding and afraid.
Silently Vincent pulled another chair over to Catherine's bed side and sat down. "Sleep" he said firmly practically impersonating the drill sergeants that he had gone through basic under.
Catherine was more than happy to oblige him, with one condition. Slowly, timidly she reached her arm out sliding her open hand, palm up closer to Vincent. Hoping he'd understand. Vincent began lowering his head and Catherine felt two things simultaneously. First the weight of Vincent's head resting on her thigh and secondly his hand sliding over hers gripping it tightly easing the last of her tension.
Vincent showing her this tiny display of affection allows Catherine to finally fall into a deep sleep.
Vincent finally showing her this tiny display of affection allows him the freedom to release the tears he had been beating back with all his beastly strength.