Running in a Lightning Storm

"I went running in a lightning storm
With thoughts of you there to keep me warm."
-Daniel Bailey; California Stars-

"I need to see him!"

Her own words rang through her mind as her feet pounded into the puddles forming on the pavement, soaking her shoes with lukewarm water even as the pouring rain coated what skin was exposed. Strands of hair that would not reach her pony-tail clung to her forehead and cheeks, a few slipping in front of her eyes.

She made no effort to push them away.

"Are you a relative?"

She sped up her pace, gritting her teeth as the shock of her feet hitting the hard surface ran up her legs. She clenched her fists tighter and tighter, until her nails dug into her palms. She wished she would draw blood.

Anything was better.

"I work with him!"

She neared a traffic light, but did not slow. Even as cars honked and swerved around her while she ran across the road, she kept her pace up and her eyes focused on a vague point on the horizon.

She never wanted to stop running, to stop moving. The steady pounding of her footsteps on the pavement, the gasp of her breath, the feeling of the rain splattering her body, the rumble of thunder, and the occasional flash of lightning; all of it drove her worry for him to the back of her mind.

"I'm sorry."

But, it was still there. Hidden, but there. If she let herself think about continuing the run, and think about it for long enough, it would resurface and she would have to pick up the pace.

"Please!"

She ran until her muscles burned.

She ran until goose-bumps tickled her skin.

She ran until her vision blurred.

She ran until she could not tell the difference between her tears and the rain.

"He's not to see anyone but immediate family. Doctor's orders."

And when she stopped, she found herself outside his apartment building. Their apartment building. She had moved in only a few days before, and everything had been perfect. Their first morning living under the same roof, they'd sat on the couch in their pajamas and just talked.

And she'd remembered why she'd fallen in love in the first place.

She thought of that now as she climbed the steps to their apartment, thinking of his easygoingness, his sense of humor, all of the things she cherished about him. Yet, as she thought of him healthy and whole, visions of his bruised and battered face swam in her mind's eye.

"I live with him!"
"Immediate family only."

She pounded on her own door, slamming her fist into it over and over, and waiting for pain to overtake her. It didn't. She felt near nothing. Her body moved sleepily with her minds instructions as she unlocked the door and slipped into the apartment. She walked slowly to the couch and sat on the arm, waiting for the phone on the coffee table to ring.

She didn't realize that she'd fallen asleep until the ringing pierced into her fitful dreams.

"Hello?"
"He's asking for you."

She hated hospitals. They were too clean and too quiet. She was used to the messiness of a crime scene, the commotion in an interrogation room. She hated hospitals.

She walked slowly down the stark white hall, following the directions the nurse had given her, until she reached the room that had been pointed out to her. She stepped inside the door, leaning against the frame and gazing in at his sleeping form.

She tried to make herself go to his side. She wanted to take his hand, to assure him that everything would be all right, but she couldn't move. So she just watched. She kept her gaze shifting between the rise and fall of his chest, the assurance that he was alive; and his face.

His eyes were nearly swollen shut; the bruises on his cheeks were dark. He looked so pitiful, so sad. She felt tears burn in her eyes, pushing forwards to drip down her cheeks.

He stirred. His head shifted ever so slightly, towards her.

"Sophia?" he asked. His voice was so quiet, she almost didn't hear, but when those words reached her ears she rushed to his side and wrapped her fingers around his good arm. She pressed her lips lightly to his forehead and brushed strands of hair from his eyes.

"I love you, Greg" she said through her tears, a half smile grew on his swollen face.

"I love you, too," he whispered.

His eyes fluttered closed and it wasn't long before his breathing had returned to the slow and deep breaths of slumber. Sophia pulled a chair from the wall closer to his bed and laid her head down by his body.

Peaceful sleep visited both of them, and everything was all right.