I didn't sleep well; I heard everything that went on in the room – the nurses coming in and out, Two-Bit coming in to sit with me, and Darry telling him quietly about what had happened, how I'd had to tell about what Steve had done. Once Darry left, I had turned away from the chair in the room, however, and every time I opened my eyes I was confronted with nothing but white wall, lacking the energy to turn to see who was in the room with me, but hoping that somebody was.
Unfortunately, at the time when I most needed someone to be sitting there next to me, nobody was.
……………
I was lying in my bed, semi-sleep exerting it's strange hold over me, making me aware of what was going on, yet unable to move. I opened my eyes, slowly focusing on the figure in the chair, unable at first to make out who it was, since he was sitting perfectly still, looking out the window.
The bright light through the windows silhouetted the figure, and, while I fully expected it to be Darry, there was just something off about him.
I waited; in my state, I didn't have the power to speak. I watched, as slowly he came into focus, first in silhouette, and then, as he turned to face me, his face became clear.
Steve. It was Steve there, in the chair.
"Hey, kid. Good to see you again," he said.
I wanted desperately to scream, but I was paralyzed.
"Whassa matter, Scout? You scared?" He stood up and leaned over me, and I closed my eyes, wishing him away, unable to do anything else to defend myself. He leaned in toward me.
"Don't worry, I'm right here," he said, and suddenly I felt him, there, in my bed, his weight on me and his breath in my ear – I still was paralyzed, at first, as he pinned me against the bed, but I willed every cell in my body to obey my orders to move, and to fight.
"NO! Get off me! No!" I shoved him away and thrashed around, screaming. "Don't touch me!" I felt hands on my throat, a burning sensation, and I screamed, again and again, eventually starting to cough, kicking him away, unable to breathe due to the coughing, grabbing at my throat, feeling like I was choking.
……………………….
"Scout? Scout! Wake up."
I was writhing in my sheets, trying to punch at people who weren't there. I opened my eyes and saw Dr. Bryant above me, looking concerned. I was coughing so hard I couldn't breathe.
"You're okay," he said. "You were dreaming. Calm down. Try to take deep breaths."
I couldn't stop coughing; eventually I was gagging, and felt like I was going to throw up. I threw back the covers and ran for the bathroom, glad that I was able to stand up and get there this time. Dr. Bryant started to follow me, but I shut the door behind me, kneeling and retching, dry heaving into the toilet. My body exhausted itself, but it never amounted to anything other than me spitting into the bowl. Finally, the coughing and heaving sensation stopped, and I sank back against the wall, sobbing.
"Scout?" It was Dr. Bryant.
"Where are my brothers? You promised you wouldn't take them away from me. You promised!" I sobbed. "Don't come in. Leave me alone! I want my brothers."
I heard commotion and voices.
"Scout?"
"Pony." The door opened and he was there, sitting on the floor next to me.
I never thought that an embrace from Ponyboy, who was, technically, almost as much of a kid as I was, could feel so safe, but the minute he hugged me I knew I was safe; that it had all been a dream.
"I was here, I was just down the hall, getting a soda. You're okay," he said. "You had a nightmare. Did you get sick, too?" He sounded more concerned than disgusted.
"No. Not really," I said, between sobs.
"C'mon, stand up." I let him pull me up. He led me back to my bed, Dr. Bryant and Two-Bit watching.
""You okay, kiddo?" Two-Bit asked. He had never heard me having a nightmare before, and he looked a bit unnerved. Coincidentally, Darry and Soda came to the door just as Pony was helping me back to bed, presumably just having gotten off work and showered at home, since they both looked both very clean but very tired. I was still a mess, trying to separate my dreams from reality.
"Was he here?" I asked nobody in particular. "Was Steve here? Why did you let him in?"
"What?" Darry asked, coming over to help Pony lift my legs over the bedrail and laying his hand on my forehead. I reached up for it and he took my hand in his.
"What the hell happened?" I heard Soda ask Pony. Pony ignored him and focused on me.
"No. No, Scout, he wasn't here. You were having a nightmare. You're okay," Pony said. I remembered, then, how I'd had to explain things to Dr. Bryant about Steve attacking me. I turned to face him.
"Why did you have to make me talk about it?" I yelled. "I was getting better! I was doing okay!" I coughed again and tried to calm down, not wanting to end up gagging in the bathroom again.
Dr. Bryant just stared at me. I had never raised my voice at him until this whole mess.
"I don't want to dream about it again. Why won't it just go away?" I cried.
"Scout, you're okay. We're all here," Darry said. "Dr. Bryant was just doing his job. He had to. He was trying to help."
"Well, now I have to think about it again, and I'm scared! I hate this!" I cried.
"Nothing has changed," Pony said. "You're still safe. You're okay. It was just a nightmare."
"It's not fair! Why can't I be strong, like all of you? Just since I'm not a boy? Why can't I just get over this? Why? I'm tired of being sick!"
I'd meant physically, that I was tired of hurting and having no energy to do anything but sleep, but I realized as I said it that I was just as sick of carrying aroud the burden of having been attacked, the shame of what Steve had done to me; the fear that it would happen again. Every time I thought it was gone, just as suddenly, it was back again.
"You are strong, baby. You are." Darry grabbed my hand and I remembered him whispering to me that I was stronger than I thought.
"I'm not," I whispered, not wanting to start another coughing fit. "I can't do this anymore. I just want to go home; I want everything to be normal again."
"It will, kiddo," Soda lay down next to me. "It will... eventually. I promise."
"I want Mom and Dad," I whispered, "and I know I can't have them." Darry pulled me against his chest, rubbing my back.
"I want to go home," I begged. "Please, let me go home. I'll sleep; I won't even talk. Please, Darry. I promise I'll stay in bed."
"It's not up to me, baby. But I got my work done; I'm not leaving here 'til you come with me," he said, leaning down, turning my head and looking me in the eyes. "You have any more bad dreams and I'll be right here. I swear."
I'd almost caught my breath, it still hitched occasionally as I responded.
"I want to go home. Being here just makes everything scarier."
"Baby, you can't come home now. You're not well enough yet."
"I'll do everything I'm supposed to, I swear. Please."
"Scout?" Dr. Bryant called to me, hesitantly, considering I had just laid into him, twice...
"What?" I asked. I felt a little bad about yelling but was still upset that he'd had to make me think about everything again.
"The most important thing, if you want to go home soon, is to rest. I can't let you go you home yet. You've still got a fever, and your lungs aren't clear yet. You still need things you can only get here: X-rays, IV medications. But if you do your part here and rest, you should be able to go home in not too long."
"I don't want to sleep… I don't want to have those dreams."
"I can give you something to make you sleep better, and hopefully prevent the nightmares."
I didn't think there was anything that would be able to do that, unless he could give me something to erase the whole incident from my mind.
I didn't say anything. I just wished it all away.
"You'll be okay, baby. Just a few more days. I can stay, now." Darry smoothed back my hair over my forehead again. "You're still sick, I can feel how hot you are. You're not ready to go home, yet. One of us will be here the whole time, from now on. We'll be right here if you start having a bad dream."
I just wanted to sleep and stay sleeping, dreamlessly, until I wasn't sick anymore and I had forgotten all about things with Steve. I closed my eyes and refused to listen to anything anybody else said. I was a mess of emotions: ashamed, embarrassed, sad, afraid, upset, and exhausted.
Exhausted. Again, I was. It seemed to sneak up on me every time I was awake for more than a half-hour. Soda and Pony sat with me while I heard Dr. Bryant ask Darry to come out into the hallway to talk with him.
I lay there, my eyes closed, listening to Pony and Soda whisper about me, thinking I was asleep.
"Shit, it's my fault," Soda said. "I should never have made her get in the car with Steve, I just… there was nobody else."
"It ain't that, Soda. You heard what Darry said. She had to tell him… she had to talk about it again. That's why she's remembering."
"I just… I'm always gonna feel responsible, Pone," Soda said.
"No," I whispered, not bothering to open my eyes. "I never blamed you," I whispered.
"C'mon, Scout, you're supposed to be sleeping," Pony said. A nurse had come in and given me the medication to make me sleep better, but I didn't want to. I was afraid to dream again.
Just then Darry came back in the room and told Soda and Pony to go home. Both of them argued, but he pointed out that there was only room for one person and that if I did have a nightmare again, he was probably the best person to be there for me. I had to agree; I loved Pony and Soda to death, but I felt safest with Darry.
I felt them kiss me goodnight and say goodnight to Darry, then the door closed behind them and the room was shrouded in silence.
"Scout?" he asked.
"Mmm?" I wasn't asleep but it was taking all I had to fight it.
"You mind if I watch TV?"
"Uh – uh." I reached out for his hand and he took it. His other hand reached out and rested on my forehead. I opened my eyes.
"Don't fight it, baby," he said. "Rest. I'll be right here, I swear."
I vowed to stay awake, just as I finally fell asleep.
………………
A/N: I just don't stick with my happy endings – not the first time, at least! But things are about to start looking up for Scout. I promise.
