READ THIS BEFORE YOU START! I've actually already written quite a lot of this but I'm not sure when I'll get round to finishing it. I wasn't going to put it up yet but I thought I'd do it seeing as today is Jamie Bamber's birthday 3 Anyway, this story is based around the same idea as 'Perfect.' I actually set out for it to be the same story but with a role reversal, but I ended up developing a bit more so I think it's probably better than 'Perfect.' In this one, Matt has been attacked, not Alesha. Also, although the first chapter is written only from Alesha's POV, most, if not all of the others, are written from Matt's as well. From now on, Alesha will be the regular text, and Matt will be in bold. Please review and enjoy! :D
It was times like these when I really wished I had a car. It wasn't that I couldn't afford one – I had the money – but I'd been convincing myself for months that the purchase was a pointless one considering I lived in the middle of London.
I hated it though, not being in control. The call had come fifteen minutes ago and now here I was, on the bus, unable to do anything but try and distract myself with the no smoking posters and the ads for dodgy looking loan services.
I'm afraid Mr Devlin has been attacked madam, and you're listed as his emergency contact. I remembered the exact words. The voice was flat, unemotional, and that annoyed me. There wasn't a trace of urgency or panic in her words when all I wanted to do was scream. Matt, the one person I cared most about, was hurt, and now I was stuck staring at the walls of the bus as the bloody thing insisted on coming to a halt at every single empty stop – the frustration came in knowing that no one was going to get on or off.
I was panicking now – was he okay? Was he alive? What had happened? And why was I his emergency contact? I felt my heart rate quicken, the muscle now beating so fast that it was a miracle it managed to stay in my chest. I looked out the window again, only one more stop to go. But I wasn't sure I could manage even that, the enclosed space was making me claustrophobic, an unfamiliar feeling.
No need to press the button I thought to myself, it's not as if the driver's going to break the pattern now. As the doors opened, I launched myself into the open air, sucking in as much oxygen as possible. I could feel the cold as my skin soaked up the heavy mist and I started to run, not bothering to give a second look to the people I barged past.
I rounded the last corner and rushed towards the entrance, cluttering through the doors with a loud knock. Well, at least I'd thought it had been loud. But when I found myself in the middle of the busy emergency department it suddenly didn't seem so loud at all.
I stood still for a short second, trying to calm myself down before walking briskly to the reception. I looked at the woman in front of me and sighed with impatience. She didn't look up, 'Hi, I'm looking for Matt Devlin.' The words came out in a rush and the woman eventually managed to drag her eyes away from whatever it was that was so interesting on the computer screen in front of her.
'Of course, your name please?' It sounded like a well-rehearsed line, the words far too polite for the woman to have thought them up herself.
'Alesha Philips.' Does it really matter? Of course it did, I knew I was being unreasonable, he had that effect on me.
'And your relation to the patient.'
'Girlfriend.' I blinked, surprised that that was the first word that came out. Where had that come from? I figured it would be the easiest way to get in quickly.
'Right, of course. If you'd like to take a seat,' I noticed the receptionist's glance at the waiting room and her sceptical expression, 'someone will be with you in just a minute.'
I nodded and went to lean against a wall – the receptionist had been right to doubt her words, it was busy. I stared at the floor, tracing the patterns on the dull material to try and distract myself. It didn't work; nothing would work. All I could think about now was Matt. I never thought I would regret my decision to distance myself as much as I did now. A couple of months after I'd met him, we'd made the agreement not to partake in sexual relations. Maybe agree was the wrong word – I'd told him not to bother, though that often didn't seem to put him off. Seeing as we didn't actually work together, it wasn't strictly necessary but I was the newbie of the group and at the time, I'd been under the impression that he was a ladies man. I knew that in the event things had ended badly, which with the information available to me, had seemed likely, work would be awkward so I'd told him we should stay friends.
Things were different now though. I was happy being his friend. We went out and spent time together outside of work, and it was because of this that I'd managed to keep the relationship at this level. Spending time with him was what really mattered to me, and I still got to do that. But now, the fear of losing him brought the feelings back, and my impressions of him changed. His reputation was no longer a deterrent. I knew now that, though he would happily let people believe he was, Matt was not a ladies man. He wasn't as confident around women as people thought.
The nurse stood in front of me and interrupted my thoughts, 'Alesha? You can come through to see Matt now.'
I looked up and realised there were tears in my eyes. I nodded, brushed them away, and followed the woman, willing her to walk faster. She didn't.
She came to a halt right outside the door of the room and turned to look at me. This woman seemed nicer, sympathy in her eyes. 'Ok, well, I should warn you that he looks worse than he is. Matt will be fine, there's no lasting damage,' at last someone told me what I wanted to hear; I let out a breath I hadn't realised I'd been holding in, 'but he's been under anaesthesia since he came in. He should be waking up any minute but he's pulled some muscles and his bodies taken a beating so he's pretty much covered in bruises. Just try to remember, he's going to be okay.' She must have seen the worry in my face because she lightly brushed the top of my arm with her hand in a comforting gesture.
I nodded, still a little dazed by the whole situation, though feeling a little calmer, 'Okay, when can he go home?' I knew he'd be impatient.
'That depends, do you live together? He's going to need some looking after.'
'No, but I can stay with him.' I knew he wouldn't be keen on the idea of needing a babysitter.
'In that case, you should be able to take him home tomorrow morning. We'll just need to keep an eye on him overnight.' I let out a quiet noise of relief; if they were going to let him leave, he really must be okay.
I thanked the nurse and opened the door hesitantly, a little worried about what I would see. He lay motionless and vulnerable on the bed. I let out a small gasp at the bruises and the blood covering his body. When I realised the extent of his injuries, it dawned on me that I hadn't even asked what had happened. I'd been too eager to see him, but whatever it was, it must have been bad. He really was covered head to toe. There were dark patches everywhere and three steri strips on the side of his forehead. He hadn't been washed yet, there was still blood in his hair and a faint layer of dirt covering his skin, though they had put him into a gown.
I stood still for a few seconds, taking him in, and slowly went to sit in the armchair beside the bed. All I could do was wait.
