Disclaimer: I don't own the Sons of Anarchy, although I wouldn't mind it. I only own Avery. Rated M for violence, language and sexuality. Reviews are much appreciated, positive or negative.
It wasn't a slow awakening, like in the movies, where eyelashes flutter, the patient sighs gently, and they lay there, looking beautiful and radiant despite the fact that they shook hands with death.
No, that wasn't this awakening. This was sudden and blinding. One moment was peaceful sleep; the next was panic. The first realization was that I couldn't breathe. My throat was jammed tight with some kind of obstruction and I gagged, my body trying to repel the foreign object. I could faintly hear rushed footsteps approaching, and foreign hands grasped mine, stopping them on their path to yank whatever it was from my airway.
A sudden tug, and there was a horrid feeling as the tube was pulled from me, triggering my gag reflex. I coughed roughly, a raspy rattle that made my whole body scream in protest, and with that, pain erupted along my back. It felt as if there was a huge cut on my back that hadn't healed yet, and the skin was being pulled apart.
For that long minute, all I could see was blinding white light. But as seconds ticked by, the light faded, and details became clear. The spotted ceiling tiles above, with fluorescent lights humming. Faces swam into view, one blonde nurse with a large mouth full of brilliant white teeth, and another nurse, this one brunette, with a strict looking face, who was barking orders at the blonde, orders I couldn't hear.
A sting on my left arm and I could feel sleep suddenly overtake me, blocking out the pain, and my eyes closed. Just like that, I was asleep again.
I slowly awoke, blinking the sleep from my eyes. Looking around, I finally managed to figure out where I was. A hospital. The room was pure white, with a painting or two scattered on the walls. The bed I was laying on was hard, the sheets scratchy against my bare arms and legs. Thin tubes ran out of my arms and up to pouches of clear liquid that hung on metal stands. My back felt tight and I shifted gingerly, so as not to cause the pain I had felt before. Slowly raising my hands to eye level, I inspected them. White gauze enveloped my left forearm, and when I raised my right hand the rest of the way and felt as much of my back that I could reach, I discovered more bandages covering it. My arm fell back to the bed as I sighed.
My eyes slid shut and I thought hard, trying to remember exactly was had happened. At first, all I could envision was a deafening explosion, a wave of heat, and now I was in the hospital. A knock at the door yanked me from my thoughts, and a doctor entered. He was a tall, slender man dressed in a doctor's coat and khaki pants.
"Glad to see you're awake Ms. Lowman. We put you, basically, in a coma for three days to let your body being the healing process uninterrupted, and I have to admit you are healing at such a fast pace, that I feel quite comfortable in letting you go home today. I'll have one of the nurses explain to you what you have to do as far as changing bandages and what not." He said all this fairly quickly, and before I could say anything, he left.
A few minutes later, there was another knock at the door, and someone different walked in. this time it was a tall man in his mid-thirties with tanned skin and a shaved head. He wore a pair of dark jeans, a black hoodie and a leather cut that identified him as belonging to the Sons of Anarchy motorcycle club. There was a look about him that said he could probably break every bone in your body without breaking a sweat, but when he saw me, a grin spread over his face.
"Ava!" He crossed the room in three long strides. "How're you feeling?"
"Surprisingly good for not even knowing what happened," I said, smiling up at my older brother.
"You…don't remember?" he grimaced. I shook my head.
"I mean, I remember an explosion and some kind of building, but other than that, nothing.
"Um…well you were at the warehouse with Bolt, and there was an accident." Upon hearing that, I could suddenly remember. Bolt and I had been at the warehouse, checking on the clubs gun supply. As we were leaving, Bolt had suddenly pushed me to the ground, and a split second later, the warehouse had exploded.
"The doc said you only suffered burns between first and second degree on your upper back and a bit on your arms. He said that for how large the blast was, you were insanely lucky," Happy explained.
"What about Bolt? What room is he in?" At this point, knowing that I would be fine, all I cared about was knowing where one of my closest friends was. At hearing my question, Happy's eyes dropped to the floor, and he slowly fidgeted back and forth. I waited for a few moments, but he still didn't look at me.
"Happy?" I growled, desperately trying to ignore the icy tendrils of dread that were starting to churn my stomach. He slowly looked up at me, our eyes meeting, and in that second, I realized. The tendrils of dread shot up into my chest, wrapping around my lungs, and I suddenly struggled to breathe.
"He's…?" Happy nodded, affirming my worst belief. I slumped back in the bed as tears threatened to pour. Happy grabbed my hand, squeezing it.
"It's ok, Ava. They said that he didn't feel a thing." I sighed, Happy's comment failing to make me feel much better.
"It's all my fault," I murmured, my eyes closing against the approaching tears.
"What do you mean Ava? This has nothing to do with you. Whoever blew that warehouse to hell obviously wanted to hurt the club, not necessarily you. You didn't cause this in any way. But I do have to ask…did you see anything or anyone out of place? Kozik and Lorca are out trying to find out anything they can." I sighed again.
"How can you be sure Hap? How can you be sure that I wasn't a target?" Part of me wanted to believe him, but the other part just couldn't help but blame myself for my friend's death. Happy sighed, his other hand coming up to rub at his head.
"Honestly Ava, I'm not sure. That's why, after Bolt's funeral, we're getting you out of Tacoma. I already talked to Clay, and he said that he'd be glad to have you down in Charming. If this attack really was about you, then that's the safest place for you. If I know Juice like I think I do, I know that he'll take good care of you."
"But!" Happy's hand shot up to silence my half-formed protest.
"If this was about you, then I'm not taking any chances. I already got the ok from Clay and Lee, so please don't argue with me. I don't care if this might be overkill, I'm not taking the chance," Happy rasped. I groaned inwardly, knowing that there was no point arguing.
"When do I leave?"
"Day after tomorrow. Charming is coming up for Bolt's funeral tomorrow, then a few of them are going to stay and accompany us down to Charming," Happy explained. There was a sudden knock at the door and a nurse walked in.
"Well Ms. Lowman, I have your discharge papers here. I just need your signature and we can get you out of here," the nurse said cheerfully, crossing the room and setting down a clipboard on the table next to me. I looked up at her, anger suddenly bubbling up to the surface. Anger at being in the hospital, anger at this stupid fucking nurse and her cheerfulness at a time like this, and most of all, anger at whoever did this to me and killed Bolt.
Happy's hand shot out, gripping my forearm. He could obviously tell that I was about to explode and possibly harm the nurse. Taking a few breaths to calm myself, I grabbed the pen and scrawled my name on the dotted line.
"Excuse me sir, if you could please leave so that she can change," the nurse said, picking up a bag of clothes from next to the bed. Just as Happy was about to leave, our eyes met again, and one final thought prevailed. Maybe going to Charming wouldn't be so bad.
