It's the night of Kurt's accident. Husband and wife, though they wouldn't exactly refer to themselves as such at the moment, are seated on the floor in front of the steady fire. Diane drifts in and out of sleep as she rests her head on Kurt's chest. The living room is dim with a few candles scattered throughout.
Diane woke up from her latest dozing session. The warmth from the fire combined with Kurt's presence is enough to trick her into thinking that everything is normal. But they are so far from normal, she hasn't a clue how they will find their way back. The butterflies in her stomach are restless and she is still reeling from the adrenaline that pumped through her veins when she got the call. She's brought back to reality by Kurt's shift, obviously still sore. She sat up and rested her weight on her hands.
"If we stay on the floor much longer, I don't think we will be able to get up." Diane picked herself up off the floor and reached out a hand to help him stand.
He cringed at first, a dull pain lingering around his bruises, but stood to his feet with little assistance. She kept her fingers intertwined with his and pulled him toward the stairs. His pace was slower than usual, but his pain medication was preventing him from moving any faster.
The bedroom was pitch dark, the power outage not lifting anytime soon.
"What a night for the power to go out," Diane pushed him toward the bed and he willingly sat.
"There are matches in the...yea," Kurt began, but she beat him to the drawer. She remembered. She remembered everything thing about this room, having spent many nights within its walls. Her feet moved quietly across the floor as she returned to his side, gauze and fresh bandages in hand.
"Tell me if I hurt you." She looked him in the eye, he could barely see the shadow of the weariness etched into her face. This had been a long road for Diane and today's stress and emotions did not give her a second to breathe. But she was breathing now. Carefully, using her breath to steady her hand as she unbuttoned his shirt and slipped it off his shoulders. Kurt kept his eyes locked on her face. The desperation of wanting to offer a thousand apologies was agonizing. Diane glanced at his face, reading his level of pain thus far. He nodded slightly and she continued peeling off the bandage covering the stitches on his collar bone.
"I still can't believe you were thrown to the ground and only came out with a concussion, 15 stitches, and bruised ribs." She shook her head, pouring the solution on the gauze pad.
"I suppose it could have been a lot," He sucked air through his teeth at the sting of the alcohol, "Worse."
"I'm sorry." She instinctively pulled back.
"No, it just stung. It's ok." He stated, sitting up a bit straighter to show her he was fine.
Diane resumed her task of cleaning his wound and successfully secured the new bandages. Before she let him put his shirt back on, she wanted to assess the damage for herself.
"Wait. Let me see your bruises." Kurt turned his body sideways, revealing the colorful skin covering his injured ribs. Diane caught her breath, the sheer force of the accident becoming clear.
Reaching out a hand, she ran her fingers over his side and onto his back. At a spot near his spine, she attempted to turn him further to get a better view, causing Kurt to let out an audible reaction of discomfort. Diane recoiled instantly covering her mouth with her hands.
"I'm so sorry..." tears began to fall down her cheeks leaving gray makeup streaks in their wake.
"It's alright, really," he took her into his arms and pulled her onto the bed beside him, "It's alright."
"No it's not! Kurt, I was scared to death when I got that phone call. I couldn't breath the entire drive to the hospital." She sat up and wiped her eyes, "This is not something you should have to go through. This is not the life we planned."
Her last sentence struck a nerve in both their hearts, the multiple meanings as clear as glass. Silence fell upon the pair.
"Look, can we please make a deal to stay out of the hospital for now? Nothing dangerous. Nothing stupid." He laughed at her words, "I just don't think my heart can take it at this point."
"You have to promise me, too." He pushed her hair from her eyes and smoothed it down the side of her cheek.
"Ok, deal." Finally smiling, Diane helped Kurt put on his shirt and the two laid in the candlelight for the rest of the evening until sleep took over.
—
"I didn't see him for long. I guess he was tall and thin, taller than me and I am 5'11''. He was wearing a hat. Jeans." Kurt's memory was clouded. He replayed her agonizing cries on repeat. "That's all I've got right now."
Without a second look, Kurt walked away from the police officer and over to the hospital's front desk.
"Is she out of surgery yet?" This was his third time asking the same nurse the exact same question.
"Mr. McVeigh, please be patient. We will let you know when there is a development. For now, please wait over there."
He couldn't sit still. He paced and paced, making all the waiting room inhabitants nervous, until he heard his name.
"She's out of surgery and stable. She's currently in ICU, but you may sit with her. The doctors can tell you more." Kurt's eyes were wide and longing for more information, "Follow me."
Rounding the corner, the sound of alarms filled his ears as three nurses scrambled into one of the far rooms. It's didn't take long for Kurt to realize they were rushing into Diane's room.
"Her blood pressure is low and her heart rate is dropping." He heard one of the nurses call over her shoulder.
"It's the wound; she needs fluid."
Kurt's first instinct was to run toward the room, but felt a strong arm in his way. The nurse held his shaking body back as the door to Diane's room was shut.
"Wait here." The nurse gestured to the chair a few feet away as she took over the nurses' station. But he couldn't sit. Not with the thought of her wrapped in wires and the sound of beeping machines swirling brought his head. His stare faltered and shifted to the floor. Kurt stayed, locked in that place for what felt like hours until the door was opened once more. Without thinking, (there is no time to think in his position) Kurt's feet took him toward the end of the hallway.
He paused, briefly, before entering the room, unsure if she could take the sight waiting for him past the wall.
Diane looked up from the IV in her arm, where the nurse was securing the needle. Not expecting to see her husband in the door, she tilted her head and smiled as wide as she could. Which, judging by her groggy, morphine-induced state, barely even made it to her lips. Kurt lingered by the door, eyes locked with Diane's. He wanted to scoop her into his arms and take her far from the suffering she was obviously enduring. The nurse finished taping her IV and, with a warning to not move to much and call if she needed anything, exited the room.
A small sigh escaped Diane's mouth as she was unable to exhale through her nose due to the oxygen helping her body recuperate. That was all he needed, moving quickly to the chair next to her bed, taking his hand in hers. They sat like this, neither knowing what to say, beyond thankful that Diane was alive and clutching his hand.
Eventually, Diane opened her eyes stating, "I don't want to know who it was or how it happened. Things are pretty fuzzy right now," She could barely speak above a whisper, despite her efforts, "But I do remember you kneeling in front of me. Trying to stop the bleeding."
Kurt bowed his head and placed a small kiss on her hand.
"Thank you," tears burned her cheeks and she didn't resist gravity as they fell, "I might still be laying on that floor if you hadn't caught an early flight."
Using his thumb he gently wiped her tears, Diane leaning into his palm.
Kurt didn't have words. Of course, he usually is on the quiet side, but this was a different silence. His fear of breaking down if he spoke even a word was overwhelming. Diane knew this, too. The way he was looking at her, taking in her tired, pale features told her everything she needed to know.
The wheels of a nurse's cart could be heard approaching Diane's room and the couple composed themselves as much they could, given their evident trauma.
"We have to change your bandages, Ms. Lockhart."
Diane nodded and laid back, preparing her body for the pain that would undoubtedly follow this necessary task. Kurt sat back in his chair, giving the nurse space to maneuver. She began unbuttoning the front of Diane's gown, but paused and gave Diane a knowing look, nodding toward Kurt.
"Oh, he's seen me naked enough times, I think he can handle one more." A slightly larger smile, than her previous attempt, spread across her lips and she reached out her hand to Kurt. He folded her fingers between both of his hands.
Her abdomen was numb, but she could still feel the sting of the bandages leaving her skin. Wincing and shutting her eyes as the nurse cleaned the wound and stitches, Diane's grip on Kurt's hands tightened.
He made the mistake of letting his eyes wonder down to the exposed laceration. Turning away immediately, Diane caught his glance. He had seen plenty of crime scenes, plenty of stabbing and gunshot wounds, but the realization that this had happened to her was far too much to digest.
"Is it bad?" She asked tentatively.
Kurt sighed and moved closer, speaking for the first time since entering her room, "You're going to be just fine, sweetheart."