Disclaimer: See previous.
Thanks: To my reviewers, everyone with anything of mine of a favourites list, to my muses, and everyone who inspires me.
Fallen
By The 41st Magaunac
"And I brought you some grapes in case you get hungry… a few books for when you get bored from staring out of that window of yours, I brought you an extra blanket, because I know how thin these little hospital sheets are, an extra sweater, some of those little candies you really like…"
"Cathy, I'm not going to be able to move under all this," said Trowa, smiling slightly as his sister loaded him down with gifts.
"Now, don't you worry about a thing," Catherine replied at though she hadn't heard him, "I'll sort out everything with the doctors to make sure they're taking care of you properly, make sure to eat all your greens and keep your liquids up…"
"Cathy! I'm not 10 years old anymore, I'm 19 and I can take care of myself."
"No, you listen to me, Trowa Barton!" retorted Cathy, tossing her auburn curls, "You're going to start taking care of yourself! I won't lose you again, I just can't…" She suppressed a couple of tears, and her younger brother looked up at her compassionately.
"It's okay Catherine, I'm alive, aren't I?"
"The doctors said that you were as good as dead Trowa… they were amazed they were able to save your life after your heart stopped… they nearly couldn't bring you back… you'd lost so much blood. A miracle, said the doctor, a real miracle…" Cathy knelt beside Trowa's bed and took his hand in her own, "Don't ever leave me, Trowa. Next time you may not be so lucky."
Trowa had to admit it had been amazing he'd survived. He'd received 6 bullet wounds all around his chest, puncturing his lungs and just barely missing his heart. He was found a few hours later, and technically he should have bled to death… anyone else would have.
He had been rushed to the nearest hospital where 3 surgeons had spent a number of hours repairing the damage. His heart had stopped during surgery, but the doctors had managed to bring him back, though the doctors had doubted his survival. All the same, here he was, conscious again, dosed up with painkillers, and lying in his spotless hospital bed with his doting sister fluffing his pillows again.
"Now, if you need anything at all," continued Cathy, having come out of her emotional state and coming back to business, "You can reach the circus on the Manager's phone, or call my mobile, or you can reach me on my pager…"
"Cathy!"
The redhead kissed her brother on the cheek and smiled at his lovingly, "Just focus on getting better okay? And don't even think about returning to the army until you're in perfect condition!" She smiled again, nodded to the approaching doctor and then disappeared down the corridor.
Trowa rolled his eyes hopelessly and went back to staring out of the window, something he had been doing for the majority of his waking hours since he regained consciousness. Not even he was sure how he'd survived… but he knew he hadn't been alone. Someone had been there, a presence, an aura of someone. He'd felt it before he blacked out. It was this same person who, in his delirium of pain, had carried him out so he could be found by the medics. He had wrapped a soft, feathery blanket around him which had seemed to stop his blood loss a little.
And he'd cried. This person… whoever he was, had wept bitterly over him. He had felt the tears, warm and gentle on his tunic, and his name mentioned over and over…
He hadn't mentioned his vision to anyone. He was a soldier, he wasn't meant to believe in all that… he had lost faith in God a long time ago. He had only caught a glimpse of that sweet, angelic face, but now it haunted him when he slept sometimes… like a ghost.
He was awoken from his daydream as a doctor arrived at his bedside to check his drips and that he was comfortable.
"Ahh, the miracle-man," he said as he handed Trowa his dosage of painkillers. He then examined the thick bandages and made a few notes on his clipboard. "You're doing remarkably well," he said. "It should only be a week or two until you're fit to return home, Mr. Barton."
Trowa nodded mutely, looking over as a pair of male nurses wheeled in my new roommate. The last one had unfortunately died before Trowa had awoken from his comatose state, and he had had the room to himself for the better part of the week.
His new roommate seemed to be covered in even more drips than he was. Blonde hair could be seen poking out from gaps in his bandages and it appeared he had just come out of surgery from the bandages around his chest being still stained with a little blood. The nurse handed the new patient's clipboard to the doctor by Trowa's bed.
"Oh, this one…" he said thoughtfully, pulling out his biro and walking over to the bed next to mine, "I've still never seen anything quite like this… have you managed to get hold of any family yet?"
"Not yet, but we're still trying. We've taken fingerprints, and we're running them through every system we have to try and find someone. As to where he came from… that's anyone's guess."
"Just washed up on the beach… we thought maybe a shipwreck," spoke up the other nurse, "But the ocean has been very calm recently, and that doesn't explain the two massive wounds near the top of his spine."
The doctor checked the new patient's oxygen supply and adjusted his facemask slightly. "Well, the surgeons have done all they can. We'll track down those relatives, see if there's anything in his Will that mentions whether we should keep him alive like this, or let him die." he turned back to Trowa with a slight smile, "At least your roommate will be a quiet one, Mr. Barton," he said, but there was no real humour in it.
Trowa watched as the doctor and nurses left, and then took a moment to take in the features of the new patient. He wondered what his name was and whether he'd ever wake up. He had pretty, almost girlishly beautiful features, and Trowa found himself smiling at the new arrival despite himself.
He leant back against his pillows, still watching the peacefully slumbering face until the morphine in his painkillers eased him into a dreamless sleep.
***
To Be Continued.