Bindings To The Past

by InMyMindsEyes

She was just a quiet girl who worked in IT when she crashed into a situation that started a cycle of events that changed everything. Wanting to get to the very heart of it all to stop a life changing alteration before it gets too far, Elodie discovers the location of a certain Village and sets things in motion. Some for the better, some for the worst.

2. Recovering Data

Seeing car crashes or hearing about hit and runs is no preparation for being in either one.

One moment the ground ahead of you is there, wide open and safe, the next there are loud noises, acrid smells and pain that you may or may not recover from as it completely engulfs you. I don't know how long I was unconscious for, but when I manage to come to some sort of consciousness, last I knew, I was standing and now... I try to open my eyes and the picture I am met with is broken and blurry, like fragments of the world itself is scattered all around me. My chest stutters as I try to breathe and comes out in a wheezing shrill. My rib cage feels like agony, my head is pressed against the hard ground one arm under my body and my legs...

"Oh god." I taste metal as my tongue rolls around the words that only come out as a garbled mess to my own ears. My eyes squeeze shut as I try to move my legs once again and I nearly scream.

I can't feel my legs.

I try to move my fingers but am just met with stinging denial from my muscles. I open my eyes and try to look around again. As the fragments of my sight begin to converge into some sort of clearer picture, I faintly hear muffled footsteps before a blurry image of someone comes rushing to my side and drops to their knees. They must've announced themself but it comes out garbled to my ears. Like hearing a voice while your ears are under water. When I try to see where the voice is coming from, they sternly order, "No! Don't move your head."

Deep tone... Definitely male. The contradiction between his sharp command and what my body naturally wants—to turn toward his voice—frightens and stuns me into some sort of paralysis.

I am snapped back when he roughly grabs my wrist and lifts on arm just enough to get a pained cry to leave my mouth. He then shifts his position, directly above me. Awkwardly, he grasps my head with both of his hands, trapping it and keeping it from moving. Dread seeps into my dazed, foggy consciousness: Maybe I have a broken neck or a broken back, since I can't feel my legs. My eyes burn as pain crashes through me in waves and I squeeze them shut to weather them.

"Eyes open. Stay awake." My arm is lowered again and my eyes open to track him. His abrupt actions and the stinging ring of his command panics me; they immobilize me further. I can barely feel my body shaking and I can't tell if it's from fear, pain or blood loss.

A blast of shrill sirens and flashing red lights block out everything. My stomach tightens, and my eyes again reach to find the man's gaze only for it to be locked on the lights as they approach... I blink, but when they open again, I am greeted with a woman's voice calling out to me to keep my eyes open. I try but the pain has my vision blurring again and just as I am about to let them drop, I hear my shirt ripping. I am startled and can't even move to see what they're doing over my sprawling body. I lower my eyes towards my chest and vaguely watch uniformed strangers methodically attach electrodes to my chest.

The Good Samaritan reports to someone that my pulse was 170. I hear my shirt ripping even more. I see the emergency team slip a collar onto my neck and then cautiously slide me onto a board. I nearly pass out from the jerked motions. I can taste more blood in my mouth. While they strap me down, I hear some garbled radio communication. The paramedics are 'requesting a full trauma team'.

"United… General." I croak out the nearest hospital only a mile away, but they look at me then to eachother.

"Ma'am your injuries may require the major trauma center in Northshore."

I try to speak and say 'that hospital is thirty miles farther and don't think I can hold out that long'. My vision blurs once again as the ambulance jostles as pain ricochets through me, the pained cry I managed to get out is short but I vaguely feel a prick to my arm that spreads warmth up towards my chest and spreads through my limbs.

In confused disbelief, I sink back into a hazy darkness...

I could feel my body moving, the pain like a distant humming in the background but when my eyes cracked open, the world was back in fragments and bathed in a pale white light. Though blurry, I could see people around me, I can't recall a damn thing they said to me; only that it was like they were speaking to me from the top of a well, their voices twisting, echoing down to me.

"Apply pressure. Apply pressure!" That came in clear enough as well as the stab of pain I get when I feel hands in different places on my body and I let out a scream. The hands stop and quickly following their absence I feel a slight prick in my arm again, something that covers my mouth and nose as my body slowly goes numb again. It was like I was in an out of body experience in this darkness. Even with my eyes shut, I could almost sense that everything around me was moving quickly and not at all. My body felt tortured and immovable.

Before I knew it, I was once again being whisked down hallways into an even bigger room, one that, unbeknownst to me, would be my home for what would feel like a long, long time as I am pulled into the comforting silence of the dark void.

I was in and out of consciousness for… who knows how long. But I was able to hear a few tidbits of conversations now and again though one... One etched itself in my mind for years to come.

"-is stable… body needs time to..." The voices faded out as I slip into darkness once again and fades back in. "-though she might experience some... 'discomfort'." The longer I strained to hear, the clearer everything became. I couldn't place the voice but something about it felt... wrong. "Worth a try. We'll start small." I think I hear someone move closer and yet, within a few seconds I hear retreating steps and know, I am alone. The silence is broken by the small blips of what I can only image as my heart monitor. It was calming. Peaceful. Like a metronome.

For some time, I hung in the space between conscious and not when I felt it start.

Like when you have a muscle spasm, my left arm jerked slightly. It pulsed and a slight tingling sensation followed, like pins and needles that started at the crease of my inner elbow that spread to my fingers and ended at the top of my shoulder.

Strange…

Time passed. People moved.

Another spasm, another pulse but this time, moving farther, reaching my neck and into my chest. The pins and needles turning warm, almost stinging, and bordering on becoming uncomfortable.

When the third pulse followed, I feel the tingling turn to liquid fire as it reached the center of my chest and, like a large dose of adrenalin had been dumped into my heart, the burning spreads as my heart pumped. I actively fought against my immobile body and tried to force my eyes open as my heart pumped the hot blades to every point in my being. Though my eyes can't open I can't think of why; my heart is pounding, the sound echoing in my ears, my mind empty except for the excruciating torment.

I strain into the utter darkness with every ounce of strength and still I can't budge. My limbs feel like they're being pulled away from their sockets and feel distinct pops in several places. I scream into the void, but I hear no sound, my back hurts right from the center of my shoulder blades to my tail bone, like my body was bowing upwards continuously as the muscles went taunt and never relaxing. The burn was unspeakable, searing through skin, carried all around by blood, sinking deep, beyond my bones.

Minutes became hours, and yet, my eyes never opened once as the pain wrecked havoc on my body and not once did it move. I was held in a never-ending wave of agony and I couldn't even scream aloud.

Trapped.

In my own body.

My mind; my prison.

I was beginning to succumb to the thought that I would feel the knives in my body forever, the long blades slicing into my sensitive flesh while I lay immobile. There were… what felt like days my brain felt like glass shards filled the space, shifting and scraping so violently it remained defocused and the pain, the emotional frustration, was all so encompassing I simply existed by as what I now believe to be a matter of flickering will power. After long days of being so alone with pain that pulled by body in what felt like 8 different directions, the pain circled around my body before rushing to be localized just behind my eyes and like a drop in an ocean, a ripple like feeling, had it subsiding when I managed to open my eyes.

Where?

It wasn't a hospital room. I was in... A… bedroom?

I sit up slowly to let my eyes roam around when my head is wracked with a throbbing behind my eyes. Shutting them tightly I wait for it to pass as my breathing slowed too almost non-existent. Opening them again, I am met with a slight stinging sensation as they move about the bedroom. It wasn't my room, that I knew instinctually.

It was just tidy enough to show that whoever was here cared about the space, but from the sparse furniture, it wasn't often seen to have an occupant. Upon the bed was a quilt in blues and creams. Every pattern was of foliage or flowers in flowing swirls. I moved slowly, my eyes moving around the room. The walls looked bare of any colour or photo. Light was dim, only casted in by a window not far from me that was hidden by thick curtains. A small dresser to my right with a vase filled with flowers that I have never seen before and a little chair at the other end of the room in the corner was the only furniture in sight.

This looked like a hostel or a very low rated B&B.

I move, surprisingly, without restraint, my body turning to lower my bare feet to the wooden floor and rise from the bed with a small creaking sound that bounced in the small room... Looking at the vase, it's like my eyes sharpen in their focus. I can faintly see particles floating in the air around it, like dust or pollen that, for a moment, looked like it became stagnant before moving slowly once again. Looking to the plant itself, the flowers looked like small golden daisies of a sort, though no bigger than my thumbnail that sat in gentle poise with feathered leaves of green. Curious, I lean forward and take a small inhale though my nose.

The aroma, it's like nothing I've ever smelt before, not bitter, not sweet but it ended with a slight irritation, like when you catch a whiff of fresh pepper and makes you scrunch your nose up, fighting a sneeze or the minimal sting. I straighten, looking from the flowers with confusion and I take a tentative step and feel like I am almost floating when I start to pass the window with curtains. Lifting my hand, I pull the dark material aside and peer out. Nearby my room window were the tips of trees, thin with no foliage or buds. Beyond the thins wands of wood the surrounding trees are veiled in the lightest of mists. As my eye travels to the edge of the woodland they become silhouettes against a blanket of white. Beyond that were what looked to be mountains with varying peaks.

I drop the curtain and turn to look around and see a door to my right. I walk towards it and lift my hand to the brass handle, pushing downwards relived when it gives way and opens. I take a few steps out and look around. I was in a house of some sort only... The details are... fuzzy? Like a camera severely out of focus. And so quiet. Eerily so.

'Hello?' My voice is... distant but carries though the expanse of the place around me. I wait a minute. Nothing. No response.

Guess it's empty after all.

I take a step, two and before I know it, I am descending down a wooden spiraling staircase. Large frames on the wall are covered in white sheets, their images hidden from sight. I didn't dare lift them to see what lay hidden underneath their veils. I reach the bottom of the stairs and a small kitchen to my right catches my eye and I head towards it. Stepping in, I feel a wave of heat pass over me, like someone had left an oven on and open, filling the space with warmth. There's a wooden table covered with herbs and a small vase with flowers just like the ones in my room. Beside them is a bottle of wine with a glass already poured resting beside it, the liquid was dusky pink, like papaya juice, and it seemed to climb the sides of the glass in a frenzy of anticipation, as if something inside it were alive and anxious to work its magic.

Although I had never developed a taste for wine, it looked extremely refreshing; like it was just what I needed to quench a sudden thirst that hadn't made itself known until my eyes had landed on the condensation that lingered over both the bottle and the glass... Picking up the glass, I swirled it in a small circle, and watch the liquid move in the way it should, just slower. The ripples radiate out as I expected, but almost as if in slow motion. Lifting it to my nose, it smelled earthy and a little sour.

Bringing the glass to my lips I find myself surprised when it tastes sweet but its short lived when my chest suddenly angrily convulses, the wine spraying back outwards between my lips, the glass falling and shattering on the floor beneath me as my ribs open and expand beyond my control, forcing air in and forcefully out. The coughing fit has my legs becoming unsteady and leaning against the table, my arms shaking with every squeeze. Between each spasm, I could swear I taste the remnants of something metallic alongside the wine.

When I feel like the coughing subsides, I hear the sound of creaking. Turning to the sound, I lean a little to peer beyond the entryway of the kitchen. I just barely see a large door, the front door by the looks of it, creaking back and forth, taunting me with the option of the outside world. Looking down to my feet, I look at the broken shards of glass and carefully maneuver so I don't step on any as I set towards the door.

Stepping outside I can't see much due to a thick fog that covered most of the ground around me. On one last inhale, I catch the faint scent of saltwater, the pain from my ribs ebbing away as I take a tentative step in a vague direction of the room where I had woken up. I faintly see a tree trunk amidst the fog but the silhouette of something dark moving overhead in the boughs is what drew me closer. Something about it was almost beckoning.

Almost reaching where the roots meet the dirt, I hear the distinct caw before I see a crow of perfect black inky wings when it settles upon a nearby branch before moving to a nest. I watch as it moves around before its head turns and looks directly at me. Its beak opens, a few more caws ring out but it isn't shrill to my ears. It almost sounds comforting. Like it somehow beckoned me closer. It's hard to comprehend, let alone describe as the sounds of the dark feathered bird began to sound like words...

'Caw... Cawwm… Cawme.'

Come.

I take a step, and another as if in a trance, my right hand lifting towards the large bird slowly, palm up in offering. It leans forward a little and for a second, I fear it will fly up and away before it moved from the branch it rested on, to one that was closer to me, its head tilting side to side, its yellow eyes pining me to the spot as it observed me.

It must've been as curious about me as I was about it. It seemed so close; I could almost touch it if I moved a little closer. I leaned forward-

Time stopped again.

I blinked once, twice as something in the air changed around me. Like an electric charge filled the air. I just manage to notice the hair on my outstretched arm standing up before an electric current surged through my body from my forearm that was resting by my side, making my muscles tense and I feel myself almost being jerked backwards, away from the tree, away from the large crow that had risen my curiosity.

The sensation hasn't been painful really. It left me feeling dizzy more than anything before the crow's beak opened once again, the shrill of its call ringing in my ears but sounding different than before, frantic as its wings flapped, seemingly angry at the broken trance like connection between us.

I look downward to look at my left arm and for a split second, thought there must've been some trick in the light. For there, resting upon my forearm was an imprint. Much like when someone is smacked, the skin was uplifting, reddening, but the image was unmistakable. A large hand had left a mark, my skin tingling as I stared at it. The palm covered most of my forearm, the fingers stretching wide, the thumb riding along the curve, the smallest finger within an inch from my wrist. I look behind me, in the direction I had been pulled towards and saw no one, but the charge in the air returned once again, this time, it surrounded me.

I barely had time to brace for it.

Another jolt, this time, starting from my lower right ribs and cut diagonally across my torso ending near the top of my shoulder, my body bending inwards as air burst from my lungs, this time the shock burning with a passion that left me staggering.

No.

I don't want more pain.

Not again.

My eyes burned as my sight blurs as I look back to the crow and I try to reach once again, wishing for that peace filled trance, that blissful nothingness. Electricity shoots through my chest like before, my mouth opening but no air coming in or out. No sound.

Caw.

Caw!

The raven drops from its perch and begins to fly down to me, its dark wings flapping against the fog filled air.

CAW!

"CLEAR!"

With one last jolt, I am ripped from that image, my eyes slamming shut as it tears through me and I open my eyes once again as air aggressively fills my lungs. I choke on it, like I was drowning and my body was struggling against itself.

It all comes back in at once.

Voices of 4 people overlapping as they move quickly over my body, fingers holding my wrist, pressing into my jugular, the sounds of machines blaring in my ears, the blinding lights of the room, the smell of metal and sterilizing fumes and the feeling of my body pulsing with pain with each beat of my heart. I pull away from their hands, shove them aside as my mind whirls too fast in order for me to even try to collect my thoughts when a cool voice breaks through the chaos.

"Miss Buchanan, I need you to calm down! I need you to take a few calming breaths!" Easier said than done. The voice grated against my ears as my eyes tried to focus on the others around me. The aches of my body had me pulling my arm out of ones that tried to grasp again while my legs weakly shifted as I tried to kick out. "Everyone step away! Give her some space!" There was that voice again, but this time, it had the hands moving away, my gratitude rang out along with my ragged breaths as I all but swallowed air again and again. It felt like my lungs hadn't been used in weeks, and with each one my eyes slowly focused as my breathing began to slow.

As I took in my new surroundings, my head snapped in the direction of the four nurses, 3 males and one female, and narrowed. They looked startled but ready to do anything, one holding a syringe. Who I could only guess was the lead doctor, stepped into my line of sight, palms held upwards in a sign of peace. He looked to the others and dismissed them quietly while I calmed down. As they filtered out, I looked away from their looks of confusion, alarm and apprehension and look to the monitor, watching as the numbers change slowly and watch the BPM rise and fall.

I look back as the doctor moved deeper into my room. He had dark red hair and had a face like some guy you'd ask for directions in the street. Non-threatening, I suppose.

"Miss Buchanan, my name is Dr. Halstead. How are you feeling?" His movements were unhurried, choreographed and deliberate as he came to the left side of the bed. I could smell the sanitizer on him, feel the scratchy sheets against my skin and hear the voices from outside my door. I opened my mouth to talk and only a pained wheeze came out. I lift a hand to my throat and try to clear it and wince when it suddenly hits me of how parched I felt. I couldn't even manage to swallow.

"I'm sorry, would you like some water?" He asked and I managed to nod my head. Just the sound of water being poured into a paper cup had me nearly salivating as I struggled to sit up but couldn't. He walks back to my side and presses a button on the side of my bed, lifting me from the waist up into a sitting position. When I get more comfortable, he offers me the small cup. When I reach for it, he deliberately pulls it away from me. Dragging my eyes from the cup to his face, I see the stern look he gives me. "Slowly, alright? Don't want to shock your system." He phrases it like a question, but the warning is clear. I nod and take it slowly and lift it to my lips, my throat rejoicing when I started drinking the cool liquid in small sips. His head jerks in approval as he moves from my side to the end of my bed once again.

"Let's try this again," He picks up a clipboard that rested near my feet, "how are you feeling?" He asks as he looked over the papers that rested there then back to me.

I look from him and do a mental check-in with my body; I lightly flex muscles here and there. I feel a few twinges as I shift a little but it was... tolerable.

"S-sore." My voice sounded strained and rough, like I had nothing but a strict diet of saltwater and sand for days on end. So I simply take another sip of water and swish it around my mouth slowly, some of the water escaping and dribbling down my chin, the drops landing on my chest that was covered in a thin paper gown. Weakly I wipe my face with the back of my hand as I look back at the doctor.

"How sore?" He asks clicking a pen with his thumb.

"Like I got in the middle of football tryout." I cough slightly on sip of water, my ribs twinging in regret. "And didn't make the cut." I finish. My humor didn't seem to make him react much but I do the see the corner of his mouth twitch upwards as he nods and makes a quick note on the board.

"And how is your vision? Blurred?" He asks and I blink a few times to look at him.

"I can see you well enough." I state, though the edges of my sight were a little muddled.

"Do you know where you are?" He asks and I linger on that and look around. I faintly remembered someone leaning over me, talking, reassuring me as I was being wheeled on a gurney down a long green corridor. I remembered the choking fear and before I slipped into unconsciousness, my one moment of blind, naked terror. Instead of lingering on that feeling that seemed to well up on me more quickly than I would like to admit, I vaguely point to the monitor beside me.

"A hospital?" I offer and get a small nod once again.

"Alright." He made another note as he made his way back towards me on my right side and lifted his glove hand. "Squeeze my fingers." I lifted my hand and slowly wrapping around his 4 fingers I heard my heart monitor picking up again when my hands started to shake, but I did manage to close my fingers around his latex covered hands and squeeze the best I could. He nodded and lifted my board up to make another quick note. He reaches into his front coat pocket and pulls out a slender stick.

A slight clicking sound before a small light is pointed towards me. "Follow the light." I followed it as a small stinging sensation in my temple had me scrunching my eyes. "Good." He clicked it off and slipped the light back into his pocket. "Do you know why you're in the hospital?" He asked, resting a hand on the bar attached to my bed.

At the time, it felt like my eyes started to burn, like when you get a headache that centers just behind them. Even though the drugs were still swimming in my system, I remembered the accident with somewhat vague clarity.

I recalled leaving work, headlights... bright flashing lights, and… oh god, so much pain. Then I felt the pressure in my chest, saw the tubes running from my arm.

"A... car accident?" I manage to grit out.

"That's correct." He nodded again and made a few more notes on his chart. So many notes. I frowned at him.

"I wasn't aware this was a test." The bite in my words have a pain in my forehead pressing outward and my hand lifting to rub my fingers over my temple in hopes of pushing it away. His head lifted, watching my hand. "My head hurts." I explain and he flips a sheet, making another note.

"That's to be expected. You suffered a TBI." He looks up and I must've been frowning again. "TBI is short for a traumatic brain injury. From the collision, and I wouldn't call it a test per say. Memory loss is consistent, that's why I was asking questions, but so far, you seem to be holding up well. Your head should heal in time, and any lingering hicks and bumps will even out by the time you have to have your next neuro exam."

"When's that?" I ask and drop my hand when the pressure eased. He glanced to his watch and tilted his head side to side.

"If all goes well, we could have you up there in the next few hours."

"Okay." I shift a little and feel all kinds of twinges in my body. I look to my doctor who watches me with such a sharp eye that I have to take a fortifying breath before I ask; "Any other... injuries?" I hated the tight feeling in my throat. He looked back to me and nodded tightly as he looked to my chart. His lips pressed together and I felt my stomach drop. He looked back to me and took a steadying breath as he held up my chart once again.

"Yes." It was the way he said that one word that had me swallowing tightly, the small paper cup in my hands curled inwards with the tightening of my fist. "I would prefer to tell you them when you have had more time to get your bearings-"

"Tell me now." There was that sharp tone again, this time from me. I internally wince and take a slow breath. No reason in getting overly worked up yet. "Please."

"If you're sure." He says slowly and all I can manage is to lift my head up and down. He takes a slow breath and glances down to my sheet.

"Before you tell me," I cut in before he can start, getting his eyes on me once again, "can you try to keep them in simple terms, or- or at least explain them?" I ask, my eyes pleading with him as my words stammer, my nerves peeking out. His head moves up and down slowly and his eyes go to my chart once again.

"Starting from the most simplistic ones; you had some mild and severe bruising as well as abrasions, er, scrapes of varying levels, on your back, arms and shoulders." From the impact, I thought to myself as I recall the briefest sensation of my body lifting in the air and hitting the ground, the dragging of skin on pavement. "Several lacerations- or deep cuts, on your forearms, waist, thighs and shins." My eyes unfocused on him as the memory of the large SUV's grill met my body, the metal digging into my skin with such force that I felt blood leave my face and my hands grew cold. "Miss Buchanan? If this is to much-"

"I'm alright." I managed. "Carry on." I swallow and watch as he looks from me back to the chart.

"You also had a dislocated collarbone on your right side, which we managed to set." From the harsh landing after being hit. I swallow again and nod for him to continue. "Your left arm and ankle were also broken." My eyes squeezed shut as flashes of the SUV coming up the incline and had pinched my arm and ankle under the large front tires before slowing to a stop… I don't think I even manage to scream. I must've been unconscious at that point.

"Your ribs were fractured and caused your left lung to collapse. Twice." My eyes narrowed at the ghost sensation flickered before fading. I take a slow but long breath in and feel my lungs expand and welcome the lack of pain before letting it out. "More small injuries caused internal bleeding; they were repaired in surgery. You also had a fractured spine." My unmoving legs. That had my eyes snapping from him to my legs that lay hidden under the scratchy blankets. "It was a miner one." When his hand laid gently on my shoulder, I lifted my gaze to his. "It didn't need immediate attention and was best to be left alone to fix itself." He says it comfortingly and gestured towards to feet. I focus on them and feel my feet twitch and slowly move, the muscles straining and twinging now and again. I nod. "You also suffered a major concussion and two skull fractures that lead to a resulting subdural hematoma." He cleared his throat gently when my eyes widened.

"A subterranean- what?" I echo and start to get the feeling like I am going to be sick.

"A subdural hematoma," he corrected. "That's when bleeding fills your brain very rapidly, compressing the tissue." His face becomes stern and his red brows furrow. "Remember to breath, Miss Buchanan." I felt the air leave my lungs and just look at my hands in my lap and take slow shaky breaths and nod blindly.

Cuts, fractures, breaks, dislocations, internal bleeding and bruising.

I probably looked like eight layers of-

Wait.

My eyes went to my doctor who was patiently waiting for me to come to terms with all the information he had giving me, but it was his verbal delivery that had me frowning.

Had. Were. Lead to.

These words were... past tense. I lift both my arms up and just see skin... My eyes linger on my left arm and don't know if I am scared or relieved that I saw no hand print on my forearm. But.. Where were my casts?! I blink and notice the scars that became a little more prominent as I clench my hands and relax them. I clench them again and hear my heart monitor pick up once again.

"How long does it take for arms to heal?" I questioned hesitantly.

"It takes around 6 to 8 weeks to recover from a broken arm or wrist. Your ankle would also be around the same healing time."

"That could only mean…" The breath I didn't know I had been holding left my lungs. I hadn't woken up before they had put the casts on. They had been removed and judging from my scars… for some time. That begged the question.. "How long?" I ask, my voice choked from me. The long breath he expels has my chest clenching. "How long, specifically?" I clarify and brace myself.

"You've been in a coma for.. 5 months." He swallowed again when my eyes locked back on his face, the image of his face blurring. "5 months, 8 weeks, and 3 days.. To be specific." Oxygen became foreign to me, my torso convulsing internally as the shock settled in. Months of my life... just... Gone. "Breathe, Miss Buchanan. Breathe." I barely feel something being pressed over my nose and mouth and chin. I blink and notice the clear plastic mask that filled with a gentle hissing of air. Each ragged breath carried with it a hiccup of so many emotions that I couldn't mentally begin to comprehend.

"Why so long?" I say after a few long deep breaths, my voice sounding weird from inside the mask. I watched as he pulled a chair from the side of my room and lowered himself down, meeting me at eye level.

"When dealing with traumatic head injuries, the brain itself will sometimes shut down into a comatose state while your body recovers," he explained softly, allowing me to hear him while I tried to breathe. My hands pressed the mask tighter to my face as I took several shaky breaths. "in your case your body was in such a state that we had to get you into surgery as quickly as possible, but from the amount of trauma your body had been dealt, your vitals kept failing when the strain became to much mid-operation." He took a breath. "Your heart stopped for a time while we had you on the table." Even with the mask over my face, I feel lightheaded and feel like I am on the verge of passing out. "You were resuscitated and, due to the fact that you had no emergency contacts, we made the medical decision to put you into a medically induced coma, that way we could protect and control the pressure dynamics of the brain." I dug deep into his words and drew from them the comfort of their medical logic, needing it like a balm to my scattering thoughts. "However, after a few weeks, we lessened the medication that kept you under. Only you didn't wake. Instead of raising your dose once again, we just let your body naturally try to come out of it. But today... Today your vitals dropped so drastically low, so fast, that… your body was coding."

I was.. dying? I struggled with that and thought back to the dream I had been torn from. Had that been.. my… afterlife?

Sparce bedrooms, weird flowers, sour wine and birds that electrocuted you when you got too close. If that was looking to be my afterlife… I blow out a breath, my oxygen mask clouding up.

I'm so getting boned.

Wait, he said I was coding. I glance to the paddles that rested on a large machine that had been pushed away from my bed. The jolted feeling, the way I had come out of it... "Is that," I point to the paddles, "why I woke up like that?"

A small amused smile graced his face. "I suppose your body needed one last jump to pull itself out of its shell."

"Indeed." I agree and recall how I had struggled, the nurses… I wince. "I'm sorry for.. pushing that nurse from before."

"You don't need to apologize, Miss Buchanan. Every coma is different, and we were surprised when you came out of yours, abrupt as it may have been. Though I will say, you coming out of yours, literally arms swinging was… new." His tone lightened and I felt my lips quirk upwards.

"I was… dreaming?" My voice even to my ears sounded confused when he takes the mask away and places it back on its station. "I was.. walking around in a house." I explain and watch him linger thoughtfully on my words as he sists back down.

"Makes sense. You did occasionally have rapid eye movement while you were under, often associated with those who hit deeper REM sleep, but its not often we get a comatose patient who shows signs of vivid dreaming."

My eyes move down to my arm, lingering over my IV lines as a thought pops into my head.

"Then do you often have any cases where someone couldn't move but felt… everything?" My eyes move back to his that widened in returned. "Where one minute they are getting poked and prodded and can't move or scream to alert anyone of feeling the sensations?" He pales at my words, and I resist the urge to shout at him when his mouth gaps for a time.

"We don't have many cases like that, no. We haven't had any with cases of Locked In Syndrome." He explains in a murmur before he swallows hard and takes my chart and starts writing quickly before slowing down when he asked; "when… do you recall when it stopped?" He asked softly. From the look of his face, this news greatly disturbed him, and that had my anger diminishing a little.

"It stopped when I started.. dreaming." I admit and pull up at the blankets that make my legs itch as they moved. "It.. felt good." I admit, the blankets twisting in my hands as I spoke. "Not to feel any pain."

"I am so…so.." With his eyes moving around my face, his mouth pressing into a thin line, honestly looking at a loss for words, and admittedly, I feel a bit better. "I suppose it wouldn't have more of a comforting feeling when I say you have had a few visitors that checked up on you while you have been with us." He sets my chart down, moving on from the topic. I don't know if I was grateful or irritated that he skirted over it but the distraction had my eyes widening as a thought popped into my head.

"Did Isaac come by?" I ask. "Blond curly hair.. about your height." I describe. He looked thoughtful a minute before he nodded.

"Yes, I believe he stopped by the first two months to check in with you, see if there were any changes." He set the chart down. "He hasn't been back recently." First two months? Well.. My internal worry dwindles when a slow smirk had the corners of his eyes showing crows feet. "One with very colourful hair left a card and some flowers." He points to a small table that I just now notice that sat beside my window, the blinds pulled low. No bright light peered in from the outside world so it must've been evening. The card rested below a flower arrangement that had started to wilt. "Comes by at least once every two weeks." He offered gently and I felt my eyes sting, my jaw growing tight as I feel a weak smile bloom on my face as I thought of Taniesha coming to see me, broken and covered in tubes, telling me about her date antics with Andrew, telling me about work, about new rave music, teasing me about my life. Keeping some form of regularity.

It left me feeling conflicted. It felt like I had just seen her yesterday, and yet, I had missed almost half a year. It must've been odd, but I missed it, being at work.

"How-," I cleared my throat when it came out on a whisper, blinking a few times to halt the tears. "How soon until I can get back to work?" I pull my eyes from the flowers and back to my doctor. He makes a grim look on his face before answering.

"I wouldn't recommend getting right back into it. You will need to have physical therapy; at least two- even three times a week to regain some motion and to get your muscles back in working order since they have been resting for a period of time. Two months of that and you should be well enough to get back into the throws of things. But you will need to keep it up regularly for some time after."

Two months.. I blew out a breath and my head dropped backwards to my pillow with more force than needed. It didn't help the ache that had settled behind my eyes again. Physical therapy as well? I look around my room and take it in for a second before I start doing the math in my head, several surgeries, casts, scans, blood work… Oh god. The dull ache now rising to jackhammer status. Not even to mention that I had been in a coma for a few months? My bills would be astronomical. Oh god.. Bills! My half of the apartment! Oh, but Isaac would have been able to manage by himself, that's if he didn't-

I stop the train of thought before it spiraled out of control.

One thing at a time.

Hospital. Money. Yes.

"Would I- that is- Could I.." The headache slowly becoming a milder irritation now, my words blubbering from me as my mouth and my head trying to get to speed with one another. Taking a second, I focus my question. "Is there any way to have a payment plan or something drawn up for all my treatment?" I say tightly, and can faintly hear my bank account screaming in the not so far distance. My question however, seems to be found a little amusing as my doctor looks to me.

"You don't have to worry about those, Miss Buchanan."

I blink once, twice.

Wait. What?

"I don't?" I echo, my voice dripping with doubt. He shook his head, an amused frown taking place.

"Your work, Tricell, has made arrangements to have them taken care of." He explains. "As per your request."

I nearly reach for the oxygen mask once again. Nearly.

"M-my request?" I can't help the stammer that left my lips. "I don't.. Understand. What request?"

There is a brief moment of puzzlement as I watch him choose his next few words. "We were informed that you signed an agreement stating that if anything should happen to your health, they had the opportunity to test a serum they had made to hopefully help speed up your recovery. You and several others were to be participants of an ongoing trial."

Oh sweet god. My fingers press to my eyes and rub, harder than necessary, but I open them again and look at him straight on.

"I… don't recall signing any agreement." I tell him and his head tilts side to side, considering things.

"That may be due to your brain injury, some memories may be a little muddled, or even not able to be recalled. That is to be expected." He explains softly, only I don't feel better.

"No, I- you don't understand." I say sharply as I press my palms together, my thumbs under my chin with my index fingers pressing along the bridge of my nose as a laugh that didn't sound at all humored left my mouth. "I don't feel comfortable with the idea, let alone be of the mind to sign up for it. I, not even in- in my right mind, could have-" I take a long breath and drop my hands to my sides as a singular thought came to mind while my heart picks up its pace, the echoing thud in my ears becoming deafening. "You wouldn't happen to have a copy of that agreement on hand… Would you?"

My small spiral must've thrown him for a loop since it took him a long second to process my question and answer it. "I believe it would be with our financial paperwork, but we have a copy, yes."

"I want to see it." My heart is now thundering in my ears while my stomach is dropping below the floor. My tone had him straightening. "To see if it jogs the memory of signing it or.. something." I explain and try to soften my voice, pleading.

His eyes narrow but after a tense few seconds, he relinquishes. "I can see if I can find it for you."

"Thank you." My hand lifts to rub my forehead, hoping that the action pushes my rising headache back again. "I'll need my glasses." I say quietly, my eyes closing tightly as I moved my fingers to begin rubbing at my temple once again.

"I can have the possessions we collected when you were admitted brought to you. Would you like someone to get you an aspirin for your headache?" He offered as he picked up my chart.

"Please." I exhale on a relived sigh.

"I'll have a nurse bring you one right away." He tapped the bars at the foot of my bed with my chart and moved away towards the door.

Leaving me with my thoughts, I managed to keep the panic held down as I looked around my room. Why would Tricell pay for all this? I swallow as my hands come together in my lap, my right hand holding my left index finger tight, twisting it back and forth a little until the knuckle cracks softly. What if they did it so they could have leverage on me so that I would work in their shadier parts of the company? I move to my middle finger and do the same motions.

Squeeze, twist, twist, crack.

What if it wasn't a serum? That had my breathing low to a stop. What if it was something else? I had only heard stories about the things that happened in Racoon City. The grotesque bodies of misshapen dying people littering the streets. But.. My eyes move to my hands and take in their state. I didn't have any sores, no unhealed sections of skin. I had a few slender scars, but nothing to make me feel like I was going to turn into.. something like that.

No need to freak out with what- ifs, I told myself. It could just mean that they were just good with their employees. That's all. Good with employees who have apparently signed contracts without their knowledge.

I drop my hands to my sides and with long steady breaths I take a moment to enjoy the sensation of just feeling air fill my chest without the feeling of knives stabbing me from the inside out. A cheap analogue clock ticks loudly on a nearby wall, each second drowning on and on. I focus on the flowers that rested near the window and slowly begin to relax. Somewhere along the lines, my eyes start to become unfocused, but never moving from the spot my sights rested on. Zoning out, I enjoy the rhythmic sounds of the clock that seem to fade away as my eyes slide closed. On my next inhale, I feel my headache is walking the line of either dissipating or returning with a vengeance. A few more and I start to frown.

I swear I could smell damp earth, pine trees and.. I took a long and deep inhale, struggling to place the last elusive scent. Was that-

"Miss Buchanan?!" The feminine voice broke me out of wherever my mind had begun to wander with a gasp that had me coughing and opening my eyes. She wore green scrubs, her black hair tied low in a pony tail. She was Indian looking with large brown eyes, neatly lined in black. She had a nice face, though it had creases with worry.

"What?" I snapped when my coughing stopped. The scent of pine and earth long gone.

"Your heartrate was dropping and didn't answer me when I came in." She looked over my face as her words sink in. Looking to my monitor, I frown before I look back to her.

"Sorry. I think I was dozing off." I admit and absently scratch my brow as she continues to stare at me. "Did you need to check my pulse or-?" I trail off and watch as her eyes widen.

"Oh, I was told you have a headache and requested something for it. I've got just the thing for you." She walked to my small table and poured me another paper cup of water and handed it to me. I took a slow sip as I watched her pulled out a plastic slip from her pocket and popped the back of it and placed a small red pill in my palm. "Should fix ya right up." She offered as I placed it in my mouth. I fill my mouth with water and tilt my head back as she looks over to my left at the bag that was ¾ filled with clear liquid that connected to the slender tubes connected to my inner arm.

"Thank you." I say and take a longer sip. She returns my thanks with a warm smile as she throws out the plastic. She goes on to do a few 'routine' checks as she calls them, running a pen up the arches of my feet, smiling when my legs twitch away from her and after some discussion, removing a few tubes from places that made me a little more than uncomfortable... She goes on to talk basic chitchat and for a second, for the briefest second, I feel a small tingling sensation in my left forearm and look down to trace my fingers on the spot where the handprint had been and frown when the feeling dissipates completely.

"Are you feeling pain in your arm?" the nurse asks breaking me out of my momentary space out. I open my mouth to dissuade her from looking me over and shake my head when someone walks in.

"Miss Buchanan?" My doctor was back with a stack of papers in one hand and a small bin in the other. Reaching my side, he places the bin in my lap and I go through my things.

The sound of relief when I pulled out my glasses from the bin was pretty audible.. They had a few scratches on the lenses but the comforting rim and matte finish of the stems had been the welcoming sight I didn't know I needed. Taking the papers he hands me, I flick my wrist, the glasses opening with a small familiar practiced flair and slip them over my ears and bring the papers into my line of sight.

There is a passing moment of astonishment as the papers that lay in my hand refuse to come into focus. I blink hard and strain as my eyes to really focus. The words remain smudges that float all around.

"I-I can't see." I choke out. "With my glasses. I can't see."

"Are you nearsighted?" The nurse asks and my head shakes vehemently.

"I'm farsighted." My hand trembles as I lift it to the bottom of my lenses upwards until the ridge of the glasses press against my forehead and try once again to read the words.

My vision was unhindered. Solid and clear.

"I don't- were my eyes damaged at all in the accident?" I ask as I take the glasses off.

"With a head injury, it was possible." He looks over my chart and flips the pages to the back, reading for a moment. "Your pupils would dilate and had trouble focusing, but this, your lack of needing glasses could be a… side effect."

Nodding absently I focus on the papers and I look to the marked tab in question.

'In the event of a person who is actively employed by Tricell becomes ill or injured while in completion of their duties or while on the property owned or managed by the employer, the employer namely, Tricell and its administrators at the institution, specifically the director of their department will immediately attempt to notify the emergency contact on file (if any). However, if a situation occurs in which the doctors in question deems medical care is important to the employee's health and/or requires immediate action, and no emergency contact is either listed or able to be reached, I hereby consent to be transported to the closest available facility and treatment without repercussion to the employer acting in good faith on behalf of the employee (INJURED).

My breathing became more and more jagged as I continued, the fear gripping me by the neck with such a force that I had to wave off the doctors when they had said something about being concerned about my heartrate once again and yet I didn't give a damn about their words, only the ones that they had delivered to my hands.

I understand and agree to Tricell being the payor of all financial costs related to any such medical treatment I receive, and I hereby grant permission to Tricell, the employer, to take any and all necessary action to ensure the preservation and quality of life while being treated at the facility of which may include experimental vaccines or medication that is ready for human trial.'

And there it was.

With flourishes that were purely my own, lay my signature on the bottom line. My fingers shook terribly as I traced my own name before flipping through the pages with such speed I think I heard the nurse murmur a quiet curse.

'All payments related to the trial, including compensations paid to the research personnel shall be directed to the account indicated in the invoice of the institution.

'All information, documents, reports, materials and other results obtained in connection with treatment are the property of the institution, the future use of which the institution of the trial may decide independently.

'The institution shall store the original trial results and codes after completion or termination of the trial. The storage of trial records is included in the compensation paid by the institution to the facility for the conduct of the trial.

My eyes glaze over the rest of the damn contract that goes on with nothing that pops out at me and it limply fall to the side of my leg. Without even looking at it, I mentally sifted through each and every word, my mind cataloguing it deep down.

"-Ucanan? Miss Buchanan?" A hand gently clasped me on my shoulder and with a gentle shake has my eyes moving to his hand, up his arm to his face that shifted into one of concern. "You had a dazed look on your face." He moves and picks up the papers once again. "Did you remember something?"

"No." I lean back and settle against the pillows once again. "In fact, I am finding it a little hard to… Digest this information." I admit as I watch him tuck the papers away, not bothering to ask me if I wanted to keep looking at them or not. Not that it mattered if he had or not. It's not like I would need to reference them again since I now had a perfect mental copy. Even now, the words danced all around me as I tried to make sense of it all.

"It is a lot to be taking in all at once." He goes on to talk about how I will have frequent checkups in the next few hours and mentions when I will be able to be discharged in a few days if all looks well. I was, as I had been told, looking like I had made a full recovery. I had just taken longer to come out of the coma, though they still speculated the reason as to why. Now that I was awake and capable of moving, they just had to run a few tests and I would be in the clear to go home. After my doctor leaves, I am left with a different nurse, this one older and thankfully, didn't talk much since my mind was on the verge of exploding. With a small pressing need becoming more and more known, I with the help of my nurse, start to make my way to the bathroom.

God. Damn.

I walk like my limbs don't really belong to me and each step is a negotiation rather than an order. Upright and moving, everything hurts now. Every damn thing. I bend against the will of my joints to get my body moving faster, even while the nurse tells me to take my time.

Leaving me at the door, I close it behind me and flick on the light, blinking against the light bouncing off the white walls. Taking a step in I catch movement out of the corner of my eye and look towards it, my eyes sharpening intensely and nearly scream.

Who in the fucking hell was in my bathroom?!

There, stood a woman with dark hair, a deep, rich brown that bordered on black, looked back at me, her skin was a pale tanned colour, and couldn't have been more than an inch taller than myself. Her face was sullen with dark pink lips but… her eyes! They were gray, well mostly. Dark and smoky except for what looked like the inner ring around the pupil itself. I opened my mouth to say something when hers opened as well. I jerked backwards and felt the last of the colour in my face drain when she did the exact same.

Oh god. My eyes dart away and see that I am still in the bathroom and debate pinching myself to ensure I am not having another 'dream' or perhaps maybe it's a mild stroke. My breath coming in jagged and unsteady, I look back to the other woman. I lifted a shaking hand to my face and watched as the woman in the reflective glass stare back at me and does the same.

Holy. Fucking. Hell.

I sat frozen, awash in a sea of emotions that begin to overwhelm me.

It was... me.

But it didn't look at all like me! Leaning forward, my hands slapped to the long counter as I peer into the reflective glass as my knees began to knock together, my heart thundering in my ears. Why did I look like this?! I didn't die my hair and the doctors wouldn't have- My hand lifted and ran over the dark strands, holding them up so I could see the colour better in the light. My mouth gapped when I caught the mixture of colours. From the looks of things, it was a majority of dark brown but there was a tint of red, like a burnt sienna.

How could this have happened?! What happened to me? I mean.. The.. old me? This couldn't have been a side effect of the accident. Genetics were hard to change or alter. They were a part of who you are. But now, I felt as thought I was looking at an imposter that took my place. What the hell had they done to me?! This wasn't the result of a broken arm or leg! This didn't happen from a few bruises or internal bleeding! My eyes look from my hair to my eyes as my head began to throb as the burning returned with a vengeance as anger suddenly filled the small room like water, and in a heartbeat, I watched as my eyes went from silver tinged to as solid as two antique coins.

What did they do to me?! With a rush of anger I didn't even know I possessed, my hand, clenched tightly, the emotions I had difficultly keeping contained while talking with the doctors filled me, rose upwards and felt like it pressed outwards like a tendril of frustration before slamming back into me with a whiplash that left me staggering backwards hitting the wall with blurring vision. I felt my ribs tighten, my stomach flip, clench and lurch. I barely made it to the toilet before I was retching. My entire world spun as I held onto the ceramic with a death grip, my body feeling like it was stretching again, my arms were pulling away from me again, earning a painfilled cry from me as I gasped between vomiting and ceasing. I didn't even hear the nurse come in, but I felt her hand on my back, rubbing slow comforting circles. Focusing on that, I managed to hear her voice gently cutting through.

"There, there, best to bring it all up." the nurse said rubbing my back. "Breathe dear. Nice and slow. Its alright. You're going to be fine." I didn't feel fine. How was any of this going to be fine?! Resting my head on my arms, I let the comfort she offered wash over me and slowly, my world steadying as my eyes focused on her aged face. The sensations of my arms pulling from me ebbed away as my mind struggled to focus again. She left my side when I managed to get some type of control over myself and offered me a paper cup filled with water and a Kleenex. She didn't say much, but I looked at what she offered and felt my jaw tremble as I took them.

Swishing the water in my mouth I spit it out in the bowl beside me and wiped my eyes. After managing to help me to my feet, she began ushering me out of the bathroom. Before flicking off the light, I tired once again to look at my reflection, hoping to see something different, only I didn't see a clear reflection anymore. The reflective glass looked as though someone had thrusted a knife into it and ripped downward, shattering the image into fragments, pieces of it falling into the counter.

I hadn't even heard the sound of breaking glass.

I don't recall the doctor coming back to my room, or the nurse talking to him about my episode in the bathroom, but I do remember receiving a small dose of sedative just to calm my nerves while they moved me from my room to get a full scan of me. I had managed to catch the nurse talking to someone else as we waited for the elevator.

"Poor girl. Going through all this… alone." Though in a hushed whisper, I managed to catch it and swallowed the twinge of pain and settled into the peace of my sedation.

With all the following checkups, the medications that left me tired and the coming to terms with my new look, I hadn't been left with any time to really think on all this. Even sedated, my mind, asleep for so long, kicked into high gear when all was quiet at night, sifting through all of it. The accident, my stay in the hospital, my bills, the paperwork they handed me…

But the severe kick in the ass was that it was all… logical. Terrified of all the time I spent in a coma, concerned why it had taken so long? My body needed time to recover. Worried about my bills? No worries. The place I work at took care of it because I signed an agreement, even though I didn't recall doing so. But lack of memory walked hand in hand with head injuries. And that was the biggest part that didn't make any damn sense. Why would they do that? Why would I sign that? I knew my employee contract inside and out.. And not once did those papers come to mind.

And it was bothering the hell outta me. But… With an unsettling feeling creeping into my chest, I recalled the few words from the contract that had caught my attention.

'The institution shall store the original trial results and codes after completion or termination of the trial. The storage of trial records is included in the compensation paid by the institution to the facility for the conduct of the trial.'

The original results were to be kept at Tricell… Meaning, if I wanted to dig and find out if they were hiding things from me, I would have to dig at work for it. And deep, deep down, I had a feeling they were. But right now, I was not in any shape to tackle that beast. Who knows what I would or could uncover if I did? Laying my head back on the pillow, I actively fought against sleep. I had rested for so long I should feel like I could sprint uphill and yet, my body felt exhausted. No doubt to all the emotional whiplash. With a sigh, I close my eyes and just lay there, taking in the quiet.

I don't know where it came from, but I couldn't help but get the feeling that from the way I had woken up so suddenly, it was not because of any noise, interruption or the use of a defibrillator.

But because my time of 'rest' or 'recovery' had come to its conclusion..

Where was he?

I glance to my watch and let out a breath as I scanned the hospital parking lot for my ride. It was almost half past 4 and Isaac still hadn't showed up. The hospital had contacted him saying that I was awake, healthy and that I was to be discharged today at 2:30pm. Since we lived in the same apartment, he was the best option to come and get me to take me home or so the nurse had said as she took my blood pressure one last time. Shifting in my chair, I look at my phone and my thumb trails over the cracked screen. It had been too damaged to turn it on, but if it had been possible, I would have texted him, or called by now.

The past week had been slow torture, final checkups and bloodwork, a short lesson in physical therapy and all I wanted to do was get home, have a shower and lay down for a good long sleep in my own bed. Asking them to call him once again, they shook their heads and told me no answer but had left another message. I would call Taniesha but she had gotten a new number last I checked and I often texted her more than dialed her to call. I knew the first half and the rest was a blank or I would mix the numbers up with other phone numbers. She was probably working today anyway. Looking at a clock that rested on a wall I blow out an impatient breath and shake my head.

To hell with this. I was done waiting and done with being trapped in this hospital.

I managed to get a cab called for me thanks to a nurse who let me use her desk phone which arrived soon after. I took my package with the information in regards to my physical therapist, as well as made my first appointment in two days. I offered thanks, got in and headed home. Making small talk the cab driver was a decent way to pass the 45-minute drive but our conversation dropped off when Atlanta came into view and had me almost smiling and nearly pressing my face against the glass of my window.

Home.

The sight was welcoming and the further in we got into the city, the more at ease I felt. The sights and sounds comforted and soothed me that no drugs at the hospital ever could. Soon I could be back at work and slip back into my old life. When we reached the building I lived it, I had to press a hand to my chest, the heel of my palm rubbing at an unfamiliar pressure that rose up in-between my breasts. It felt like years since I had been home. The cab raced off after I paid him and headed in.

The lobby had been updated; it seems. The floors had been carpeted, last I recalled, but now shined with wood paneling. Heading past the reception desk I went to the elevator and pressed the call button. It smelled like fresh paint as well. The colour was now a warm cream colour where it had been a pale eggshell. When the doors opened, I stepped in and pressed for my floor. The doors closed and soon, I was lifted. No reflection here, and I was a little thankful. It still alarmed me when I saw my new self but I was.. I was getting better. I felt giddy as the doors opened to my floor and on muscle memory alone, I walked down the hall towards my apartment number and frowned a little.

Usually I had something hanging underneath the peephole, usually something to do with the seasons, but the door was bare. Not even a 'Welcome Home' banner. Hmm.. Taking my keys out, I insert the key, flip the lock, open the door and step in. It feels like a year since I laid my eyes on our apartment and for a moment, I can't help but feel a wave of relief when I enter. Only..

Something was… off.

I wonder if I hadn't gone through what I did, I wouldn't have noticed much at first. But looking around the apartment with eyes that didn't need glasses anymore, I notice several things that are out of place. The coffee table directly ahead of me in the connecting living room doesn't have any of my magazines or the decorative glass bowl that usually was filled with fruit I had found while antique shopping. Stepping in, I glanced down the hallway. No decorative paintings on the walls or photos… I walk a little further in and glance towards our balcony and almost gasp when I see none of my plants residing there. Looking around the living room space, I got the sense that this place lacked any of my feminine touches. Like.. A bachelor pad.

Dropping my bag off by the shoe rack, I reach down and slip off my shoes and set them on the rack and reach to grab my bag when I finally notice a set of orange and white Puma runners inside the partially closed door of the entrance closet.

They weren't mine.

Picking up my bag, I straightened slowly. I felt my mouth go dry as I turned into the connecting kitchen and see sets of dishes by the sink, still dirty with a set of wine glasses. I felt a wave of emotion leave me cold as I braced a hand on the counter. The sounds of what must have been plastic falling and landing on the ground had me looking over my shoulder towards the master bathroom at the end of the hall, but it was the feminine moan that had me starting towards it.

I had to make a solid effort not to look into the bedroom as I passed and kept my focus solely on the bathroom door. Opening it, time moved in slow motion as I feel the sharp pain hit my stomach at the same time my jaw tenses at the sight I am met with.

A woman sat atop the bathroom counter, blonde hair that fell well past her shoulders, her willowy arms around Isaac who stood, long and lean between her legs with his arms around her waist, his face buried in the crease of her shoulder, no doubt with his lips on her bare neck. Her silk blue blouse falling off one shoulder and must've said something humorous as she let out a giggle before the sound of the door cracking against the wall startled them both. Isaac's head snapped to the door, his dark brown eyes widening as they landed on me and for a moment, I thought he was going to be sick while the woman struggled to fix her blouse. Looking between them both, I smiled, slowly before narrowing my eyes on Isaac who was now trying to zip up his suit pants.

"Sorry to… interrupt," The words sounded far to sweet to my own ears and the looks on their faces had me feeling a little better about the whole situation. Looking to Isaac, I hold my hands up in a 'ta-da' pose. "Just wanted to let you know… I'm Home."

AN:

Hello hello!

Hope you guys enjoyed the chapter! So glad you guys are still here!

I was worried that because of the long start up chapters and lack of immediate Heisenberg would deter anyone from continuing to read… (then again, the story is still young)

But don't you worry all... He's coming.

And boy, does he.

But one thing I would like to ask to those who would like to participate;

The Lords are symbolized in this chapter. Did you catch them? If you think you did, let me know your thoughts on them and what YOU think they mean whether in a review or send me a DM.

I love reading your reviews guys, it honestly gives me life.

Also! Be sure to check in with my Tumblr and my Instagram for more sneak peeks and updates.

Until next time,

Stay safe guys!

-IMME.