The transfer went smoothly. Lady Jaye had taken an extended leave of absence from GI Joe to care for Flint, and traveled with him to the hospital in Boston. She had purposely neglected to tell Flint's parents that her mother was on the board of this hospital and that one of its wings had been named for her grandfather, who had made quite a generous donation to the hospital when he passed on. She had never gotten to know him, but thought it had been nice of him to make sure his money went towards something as important as a cancer research center.
It had been several weeks since the accident, and over a week since they had transferred to Boston. Already her mother had been to see her and cluck over her daughter's state. In a rare show of understanding, she had arranged for her daughter to stay in the room with the patient, making sure food was delivered each day for her to consume – a condition being that she was to eat it and at least take one walk outside in the courtyard each day for fresh air.
Lady Jaye hated taking that walk, but did as she was told, knowing one of the nurses would rat on her if she didn't. They were good about sitting with him, though, when she was out, and she never stayed away long.
She had just returned from one of the walks and was staring moodily out the window, her hand resting on top of Flint's. Absentmindedly, she squeezed his hand and felt a return squeeze. Immediately, her eyes flew to the bed, but saw with great disappointment that his eyes were still closed. Had she imagined it?
She squeezed his hand again, and felt the return squeeze, the reaction a bit slower this time. She grew excited, having heard of this reaction in coma patients. Usually, it led to the patient waking up or at least being aware of his surroundings.
"Dash?" she asked, her voice hoarse from disuse. "Can you hear me, baby?"
She was disappointed that his eyes didn't fly open or even give another squeeze, although realistically she knew it was a one in a million chance that would happen.
Sighing, she leaned over and kissed his forehead. "I wish you would wake up, even if it is a healing process," she grumbled. "At least then, we could take the next step forward. I also miss you, you big dummy. God, I'd even take one of our infamous blow outs at this point! At least then, I'd know you were okay."
She glanced at one of the monitors next to the bed, hoping to see a spike in his brain waves as she talked to him. It would mean he could hear her, or maybe even try to communicate back. Nothing, dammit, she thought, glaring at the machine.
Sighing again, she wandered back over to the window, but the scene outside was just the same as it had been five minutes before.
Knowing the nurses wouldn't be checking on him for awhile, she sat on the edge of his bed, slowly nudging her body so that she lay next to him. Being careful with his IV in his other hand, placing it gently on the other side of the bed, she snuggled up to his still body, listening to his even breathing.
"This sucks, Dash," she murmured, her head resting on his shoulder, her feet careful not to touch his cast he wore since his ankle surgery. "I'm bored, lonely, and scared. I also have to deal with my mother every couple of days. You remember what that was like, right? It would be nice if you'd wake up and we could start this physical therapy and get back on track."
"I've been thinking," she continued, voicing it aloud, "that maybe we're not meant to go back to GI Joe. We could start anew somewhere else. What, I haven't figured out, but heck, we're two talented people. I'm sure we can find something to do." She yawned. "I've missed this," she admitted softly, trailing a hand down his chest, mindful of the wires, "and you know what? As long as no one minds, I'm just going to stay like this for a little while. Tell me if you don't want me to stay," she joked, wondering if the seclusion was driving her a bit wonky in the head.
She yawned again and decided she'd take a short nap, sure that once someone came into the room, they'd do that polite throat clearing thing, and she'd wake up. Probably embarrassed, but at this point, she didn't care.