I still feel quite weak and it seems like Peter has been gone hours but in reality it's only been about five minutes. My mind runs through all sorts as I try to work out what he's done. It must be serious he seemed to be in a lot of trouble. My eyes are heavy and I'm tired, stifling a big yawn I give in and shut them. Maybe if I have a little nap Peter will be back when I wake.
My eyes flutter open and a shape of man sits beside me. He's holding my hand tightly as Peter had before. In my peripheral vision I can see it's not Peter but Mr Russia himself. They very man who promised to set me free and then called for my Peter because he had obviously messed up his mission. He has a tight grip although his hand is sweaty. I cough not sure he is aware that I have awoken. He turns to face me; I think I interrupted some thoughts he was having.
"Carla" he says the words rolling off his tongue like he says my name a million times a day.
My drawn eyes stare up at him, teary because I want to know what has become of Peter, why he hasn't returned to my side? I summon up the courage to ask of him.
"Peter" it is the only word I can mumble. I want to ask more and try to will myself but its no use words fail me again.
"Mr Barlow is okay Ms Connor do not worry about him" he says as if reading my thoughts. "You need to focus on your rest and getting well, I have an important job for you" he continues.
Job for me? What the…? Oh my head, it feels so light, rush of blood I'm guessing. Mr Russia snaps his fingers and the doctor from earlier joins us. He starts examining me starting by shining a light from a torch in my eyes. He moves along checking my heart rate and temperature. As he listens through his stethoscope to my heartbeat he begins to frown. In Russian, Mr Russian speaks to the doctor, although I don't understand I assume he's asking what is wrong. The doctor obligingly replies and I'm guessing for my benefit it's in English.
He says I have a slower heart rate than normal and that my body temperature has not yet returned to normal but I'll be ok with the right medication. They nod at each other as in agreement and the doctor rushes over to a cupboard on the other side of the room. I see him take a few bottles and a bag of fluids and place them on the top. Coming back over to the bedside he assess the surroundings. In his right hand is the fluids and his left the hook to hang it but here's the catch this is no hospital and there is no stand. He improvises using a light fitting to my right and once securely in place he starts connecting it up to my arm. I've been in the hospital before but this doesn't seem right somehow. I begin to feel very drowsy and sweat. Pouring me a glass of water and making me take a sip he shakes free a few pills from their plastic container. What are those? I keep my lips closed and shake my head refusing to take them. He tuts and shakes his head. "Come on now Ms Connor be a good girl and take your medication." Mr Russia prompts as the doctor pushes his hand firmly against my mouth trying to force the medication.
In an angry tone they talk back and forth in Russian. I stick to my guns and try to fight against the doctor with what little energy I have not convinced he is legit. Whatever he has hooked up to me is making me worse it's certainly not fluids. I hear whispers exchanged between Mr Russia and Jim who has magically appeared from nowhere. God he knows them all, I can't help but wonder who he actually works for? Is he freelance? Oh this is so confusing who's with whom? I see out of the corner of my eye Jim leaving and my mind races as to what he is up to. I lose focus for just a moment after flinging my head in Mr Russian's direction and the doctor manages to slip one of the pills passed my lips. My eyes widen in alarm and a grin creeps across Mr Russian's face. Holding the medication in my mouth I try to spit it out but the doctor keeps his hand firmly in place across my lips. I won't swallow it; no I just won't do it. I wish I had the energy to lift by hand and fight him off but what little energy I seemed to have is slowly draining away from me. The doctor curls his fingers on his left hand around the pills so as not to drop any and pinches my nose between his free index finger and thumb. My breath doesn't hold for long before I open my mouth gasping for air. Seeing his opportunity the doctor switches hand's re grabbing my nose with his right. It gives me a moment to try again to hold my breath. He is patient and waits from me to open my mouth again.
As he pushes the remaining pills into my dry mouth I hear the door click open and scuffling as someone enters. I fight against my body desperately trying to sit up and see what is happening but the doctor pushes me back down into the mountain of pillows.
"Get off me, get off" I hear as the visitors to the room come nearer.
I'm getting more and more distant by the second but as I still gasp for air the pills have slid to the back of my throat and I begin to choke. I feel the cool water on my lips as the doctor forces me to drink. I have no choice with my head tipped so far back and end up swallowing the pills but what are they?
Before me at the end of the bed stands Peter I gasp when I see him, he only has bruised cheek, I expected worse. My breathing is shallow and rapid, head spins what on earth are they pumping into my system. Why have they bought Peter in? I thought he was in trouble. I speak out but my speech is slurred and inarticulate. I want Peter; I want to feel safe, I want for him to hold me. My eyes narrow as they react to the light in the room, I suddenly don't want them on I want it dark. "The lights" I mutter and they look at me puzzled.
"Please the lights I don't." I try again slurring my words and unable to finish my sentence.
I think Peter understands me as he shouts for them to turn out the lights. Mr Russian shouts to Jim and we are plunged into darkness. I can now see nothing and begin to calm down, that was really strange I've never felt like that before I'm convinced it is this medication, they're up to something. Faint whispers break me away from my thoughts and I strain to hear but am struggling to comprehend what's being said. All I know is I can hear Peter's voice and it sound's desperate.
I feel a soft index finger run the length of my face. I stir gently my eyes gently blinking open to the darkness. I feel drained and so empty. A soft kiss is placed upon my cheek. I know that kiss its loving and tender. "Peter" I mumble sleepily.
"I'm here baby," he says reassuringly and I hear his fingers fumble against the bedside lamp and he looks for the switch. I screw my eyes as the fresh light invades the room. After a few seconds I open up my eyes and there he is, Peter Barlow, that gorgeous man who loves me, even though he hurts me and has put me in danger. From what I can see we are alone. All dazed and disorientated I gaze up at him.
"Sleep with me Peter" I whisper all breathy and feeling exhausted.