Chapter 4: Body Language

The way her voice lowered and cracked slightly caused the panic to rise within me. What happened to Paige? She was fine when I last saw her, strong and steady, coming to my rescue and proving her devotion without words.

"M-mom?" I felt the tears start to fall on my cheeks, and the waver in my voice rang out through the room.

"She's still in surgery, Em. They're not sure exactly what happened, but from the looks of things she was beaten up pretty badly when Nate-

"Lyndon." I interrupted. "His name was Lyndon."

-Oh, right, I'm sorry. When Lyndon took her yesterday he roughed her up quite a bit. The doctor's said she put up one hell of a fight. Like you, her body was in a state of shock for a long while and she seemed not to feel much pain at all. Just after you all left to follow the ambulance to the hospital, she collapsed and Spencer brought her to the hospital." I let out a sharp cry. I left her there – alone – and she was hurting so badly. I should have protected her. She tries so hard to keep me safe and I left her when she needed me the most. I feel my body start to tremble as the stream of tears running down my face drips steadily onto my folded hands. "As far as we've been told so far, she has at least one broken rib and some pretty severe internal bleeding. The doctors suspected her spleen had ruptured, but we won't know for sure until she's out of surgery. She also has some pretty severe damage to her left hand and wrist" She added proudly "where she broke quite a few small bones hitting Lyndon in the face."

I let out a small chuckle despite my concern. "When will she be out of surgery?" I ask quietly.

"I'm not sure exactly, but if you want to gather your blanket and get comfortable in that wheelchair in the corner, we can join your friends in the waiting room." She stands quickly, brushing a kiss against the top of my head before disappearing out the door without another word. I raise my body from the bed one last time, taking small steps until I reach the wheelchair on the other side of the room. The IV stand pulls at the tube in my arm before I remember that it's attached to me, and I hiss at the sting of the needle moving within my vein. I pull the folded chair back toward the bed before I open it and settle down on the plastic seat. My warm feet come in contact with the cold foot rest and I shiver slightly, grabbing the thick blanket from the bed before standing again and wrapping my body in its warm cocoon. I sit back in the chair as the doctor returns with a smile. Without a word, she motions to my arm and I raise it slightly. She carefully, but quickly, removes the IV and pulse rate monitor from my finger. I lower my arms to the side of the wheel, propelling myself toward the door at a slow crawl. My mom speaks quietly with the doctor for a moment before grasping the handles on the back of the chair and moving us both to the waiting room at the end of the hallway.

Aria stands as we enter the small room, quickly followed by Spencer as the pair carefully assesses the damage to by body as I'm wheeled in by my mother. Hanna is sitting in between the two girls, staring intently at the door opposite the one I entered through. I shifted my gaze between my three best friends, taking in their stances and trying to read their emotions the way we've been able to since we were all kids together.

Hanna is in pain. Her features are stoic and carry a false air of strength and confidence, but her posture betrays her and reveals the turmoil playing out behind her eyes. She is fixated on the swinging doors I presume lead to the operation and recovery rooms where we'll eventually get to see our other halves. She hiccups intermittently, letting the action jolt her body without any indication she's even aware they're happening.

Aria is as wide eyed as I've ever seen her. She looks back at me with relief and love, but her mannerisms reveal the worry slowly seeping from her control and into the room. She paces subtly – moving a small step toward me, then Hanna, and back in front of her chair – repeating the action unconsciously while her torso gently rocks back and forth on her hips. Her arms are crossed tightly over her chest, though the action makes her seem smaller, not defensive. She finally settles on a small but genuine smile in my direction before lowering back down into her chair and looking to Spencer on her left.

I can't look into Spencer's eyes because my focus is automatically drawn to the red streak across the arm and chest of her white undershirt. The stains look faint but definitely deep, as though the source of the red liquid had lain upon the fabric for a long while before contact was broken. I notice the small smudges on the backs of her hands – they looked so much like my own just a short while ago – and I gasp, pulling myself out of my stare just long enough to let my eyes find Spencer's.

As Spencer moves to swallow me in an unexpected hug, Hanna finally meets my gaze and tears begin to leak from her eyes and down her cheeks. I feel Spencer's fingers brush my face softly and I see her hands as she pulls them away. They're wet, I'm crying, and they're rusty with dried blood. Paige's blood? I open my mouth to ask and no words come out. With an apologetic glance, Spencer takes my mom's position at the back of the chair and wheels me toward Hanna. The now sobbing blonde falls to her knees before me and throws her upper body across my lap. I stroke her hair gently until she finally looks up at me with a teary smile.

Spencer fills us in on what's happening as we sit patiently waiting on any new information. Caleb is out of surgery and doing well, all things considered. He hasn't woken up yet because the doctors are keeping him sedated for a little while to help his recovery. Hanna is relieved, but won't really believe he's alright until she sees it with her own eyes. Paige's surgery has been a lot slower and they haven't gotten any information on its progress yet. I felt my eyes begin to well up once again and felt my best friends all reach out to comfort me. Spencer wraps her arm around my shoulders as both Hanna and Aria grasp my hands.

An older man with mostly white hair emerges from behind the swinging doors on the other side of the room. He walked slowly and surely, calculating each step as surely as he practiced his words. "Family of Paige McCullers?" he calls out over the small room, making direct eye contact with me as if he knew who I was already.

"Yes, that's us." My mom answers him surely, as if to convince him that our rag-tag group was truly related to her.

"She's out of surgery. She was pretty banged up, but we got everything under control. She should be just fine in a couple of months with some physical therapy and a lot of support." We all nod eagerly, assuring the man that we'll protect her with everything we have. "We had to remove her spleen. She does have three broken ribs – one is pretty severe and the others are little more than fractures – but they'll heal up nicely with proper rest. The biggest concern long term is going to be her hand. The bones around her knuckles were pretty severely broken and reconstructed with pins. It's going to take a lot of rehab to get back to full function. Otherwise, she should make a full recovery. You can go back and see her in a little while when she wakes up."

I let out a sigh of relief. Things won't be great for her in the upcoming weeks, but at least she's going to be ok. I make a promise to myself, a promise I'll repeat to her as soon as I see her, that I will be right by her side every step of the way. My heart starts to pound at the thought of her. I need her more than I've ever needed anyone in my life. I need to see her, to touch her, to know that she's alive and real and mine. I need to make sure she knows how much I care about her, how much I worry and how badly I need to protect her after everything she's done for me. I love her, and I never got to tell her.

As the doctor started to back away toward the swinging doors, I call out to him across the room.

"I need to see her. Can I see her? I need to make sure she doesn't wake up alone. I left her back there, and I need to make sure she knows I'll never leave her again. Please, can I go to her?"

"Are you Miss Fields?"

I jolt with suspicion when I hear my name fall from this stranger's lips. Who is this man and how does he know who I am? The doctor's eyes narrow into a slight glare, confusing me and worrying me with uncertainty.

"I am. Emily. Please, can I wait for her?"

"You'll need to be accompanied, you seem to be a bit worse for the wear yourself and someone will need to join you – just as a precaution."

Before I could turn to ask my mom, Spencer's voice cracked over the quiet space. "I want to. See her I mean. She'll need all the help she can get, right?"

The doctor's glare softens as he turns to Spencer. "You girls get moving. I have places to be."

He pauses for a moment before smiling lightly and giving a small, curt nod. I look back at my friends and my mom before grasping Spencer's hand and pulling her toward me. She leans down and gives me a sad but sure smile, kissing the top of my head before grabbing pushing the wheelchair slowly toward the swinging doors.