Chapter Three
Jaime had skipped breakfast again, and her doctor found her sitting at the window, staring at her hands and sobbing broken-heartedly. He'd been treating this disorder for over ten years, and he had to admire her courage; he could see without asking her that Jaime was already attempting to scale that last hurdle – on her own. He remained in the doorway to give her some space, and spoke very softly, not wanting to startle her.
"Jaime -?"
Jaime looked up, and although her tears flowed freely, her voice was steady as she uttered the words for the very first time.
"I killed four people."
Having uttered the words that made what had happened a reality, Jaime fell eerily silent. Her sobs turned quickly to sniffles and then the tears – and all other traces of emotion – disappeared from her face and she sat staring vacantly out the window. Doctor Conrad saw immediately that she was in trouble. He positioned a chair directly across from her so they could sit face-to-face, and he took both of her hands in his own.
"Jaime?" he prompted, trying unsuccessfully to penetrate her blank stare. He gave her a few moments, and then prodded a bit more. "Where are you right now, Jaime?" She didn't answer, appearing not to realize he'd spoken to her. The doctor was careful to hide his disappointment from his patient, but inwardly, he cursed silently to himself. Jaime had made such outstanding progress the previous day, but had then tried to push herself too hard, on her own. He knew with sinking certainty that, for the time being, he had lost her.
- - - - - -
Steve hadn't seen his fiancée since he'd kissed her at the hospital entrance, the night he'd rescued her from the roof and entrusted her to Mark Conrad's care. In the nearly four days since then, he'd been calling for reports on Jaime's progress many times a day, eager to see her again as soon as her condition and treatment allowed. He'd been buoyed tremendously by the doctor's summation of the previous day, and when he got the call to head for the hospital, his heart sang with joy. Jaime was nearly well again! When he sat down in Conrad's office and saw the grim look on the doctor's face, though, his hope was instantly dashed, replaced by gnawing, aching fear.
"Something's happened," Steve stated quietly, before the doctor could tell him anything.
"Jaime's had a bit of a setback," Mark told him. "Not insurmountable, but -"
"What happened? She did so well yesterday..."
"You and Oscar warned me she had an independent streak, and unfortunately, you were right. She must've decided to push herself a little further, a little harder, all by herself. She hit her main trigger without my being there to guide her, and while Jaime finally acknowledged the end result of the incident at the compound, it was more than she could handle, all at once."
"How bad...?" Steve asked.
"She's virtually catatonic. We have to pull back on the treatment, for now, and just gently guide her back."
"I can do that...I think."
- - - - - -
Steve had been well briefed on Jaime's condition, but was still unprepared for the state he found her in. He'd expected to see her looking quietly out the window or lying in bed and staring at the wall. Jaime was in bed, but while her eyes were wide open, she was staring at nothing. Her tear-less cheeks were very pale, and although she was facing the door, she didn't even blink when Steve walked in.
"Hi, Sweetheart," he said, caressing her cheek and leaning closer to give her a soft, tender kiss. He didn't know for sure if Jaime could even hear him, but he sat on the edge of her bed and smiled at her lovingly. "I missed you so much," he whispered. Jaime didn't respond, so Steve continued his lonely monologue. "Mark told me how well you did yesterday; I'm so proud of you. I know how hard this is on you, and I still feel terrible that you're going through so much pain because you cared enough to save me." Steve picked up her limp left hand and rubbed it gently as he kept talking. "I hope that now, you'll let me help to save you. Jaime, I love you more than I could even begin to tell you. We've gotta get you back on your feet, Sweetheart, 'cause we've got a wedding to plan."
Steve kept up a loving patter for the next fifteen minutes, but still failed to draw Jaime into conversation or to even get her to look at him. Doctor Conrad joined him at the bedside, and the two men exchanged a sad, meaningful glance . Steve kissed her one more time, then rose to his feet. "I'll be back in a little while," he told Jaime. "You rest now, ok?" With a heavy heart, he followed the doctor down the hall to his office.
"Anything?" Conrad asked, knowing the answer.
"No – not a word, but I swear that she didn't blink once in that whole twenty minutes. I did learn something, though."
"Oh?"
Steve nodded. "Jaime is still in there. When I walked in, it looked like she wasn't focused on anything – like she was staring at nothing at all – but then I looked into her eyes. I've known that lady for almost her entire life, and I wasn't looking at an empty soul. I saw...a very frightened, lost little girl, who can't find her way back home."
- - - - - -
