A/N: Thanks all for your reviews and messages. It's been more than a month again already and I'm very sorry things are going so slowly. My computer crashed and I' have to get used to these new versions of text processing programs. The next couple of chapters won't take that long. In fact there is only one chapter left that needs to be typed.
Anyways, here's the next installment. Enjoy.
II.
She is about to panic again when one of the EMTs crouches down beside her, checking her pulse. Her eyes grow wide with fear, and I can feel her tense up inside, but right now she is too weak to fight anything or anyone.
I insist on staying with her, my badge being extremely helpful.
They take us - her ID card reveals her name is Abigail Sciuto - to a nearby hospital and while they examine her, I call the Director to let him know I witnessed an attack and therefore have to stay in New York for another couple of days.
Hours later, in the early evening and more than 12 hours after we got to the hospital, Abby slowly comes awake; moaning. She doesn't manage to open her eyes for a while and when she finally does, she looks confused. When she spots me, her eyes move about wildly, as if she is trying to remember what has happened. She then sighs heavily, as her eyes flutter shut again.
As soon as we had reached the hospital, they had drawn blood samples, which revealed a considerable list of drugs [and when they told me I sincerely hoped she hadn't taken any of them on her own]. It seemed that the guys had even tried or even managed to inject some sort of this infernal stuff.
With this horrible mixture running through her system, the poor young woman has to feel terribly sick, with her whole body hurting badly. She comes around a couple of times during the night, but she never is really responsive.
She isn't the next day either. When she is awake she's either staring at the wall, or sometimes at me, but most of the time she is drowsy and asleep.
The police's visit is a short one. The physician has informed them about the attack, but since Abby's only reaction is to turn her face away, refusing to talk, they call it settled because they have no other leads to follow and so they drop it.
I know it's not my job to question her about the attack, but I tell her she has to press charges against the perps.
She doesn't even look at me.
A weird thought arises in my mind, caused by her constant inactivity and unresponsiveness: What if she doesn't understand?
I take my chair, sit down beside the bed and – when she finally looks at me - start to sign. Slowly, with unsure hands I attempt to communicate. I haven't done this in some time and I have always been clumsy at it.
How are you feeling?
Abby tilts her head. The expression on her face gets soft and after she has eyeballed me for long moments, her hands slowly move through the air.
Sick, she signs. Very sick.
Boy, this is going to be hard. Sign language. My first wife, Shannon, taught me how to sign. She had good friends who were deaf.
Want me to call a doctor?
No. Some more sleep and I will be fine again.
Having 'said' this, Abby stares at me with a somewhat amused smile.
What? I ask.
You know you look cute when you sign? Less grim.
I sigh, sinking back in my chair.
"Yeah." Like I said, I've always been clumsy at signing, but that's exactly the words Shannon had used. 'You know you look cute when you sign?' Thinking of her right now hurts more than anything else, and a wave of sadness hits me.
Taking a deep breath, I immediately try to mask it, but it's too late.
"Sorry. Didn't mean to embarrass you."
If I had let my sadness shown, I certainly didn't intend to, but now the expression on my face has clearly changed to astonishment.
"What?" she asks curiously.
She sounds innocent, but I'm too much taken by surprise to hear her talk that I cannot answer her right away.
"I'm sorry that I was so ... mute," she says.
"Why?"
She shrugs; and I proceed to make this damn Probie-mistake.
"Abigail, do you know the guys who did this to you?"
End of conversation.
Tbc…
