Chapter 31
Ottilie was walking down the corridors of school holding her books tightly to her. She loved school and was looking forward to her next lesson, history, with Mr Saltzman, or Ric as she knew him better. Damon called him her 'honorary godfather' but she wasn't sure what that meant but went with it anyway. All she knew was that if she was in trouble whilst at school, she had to go to Ric.
The bell rang, signalling that she should hurry to her class, and she picked up her pace a little, even though she knew that the teachers were aware of her condition, and that she couldn't rush around too much and to not tell her off for being late. Still, she disliked being looked at as she entered a classroom late and made it her mission in life to be late as infrequently as possible.
Hurrying to her history class through the now empty corridor, she suddenly felt herself bump into someone, and her books tumbled from her grasp, spilling all over the polished corridor floor. "Oh," she gasped, looking up at who she'd bumped into, the school bully, "I'm really sorry, Claire, …" she started, before she was cut off by her.
"Eurgh, look where you're going! Oh my god, you made me drop my phone!" cried the girl, shoving Ottilie away from her as she tried to collect her scattered books. Ottilie kept her head down, trying to ignore the shoves, and doing her best to get her books so she could get back up again and out of the situation.
Standing to face the older girl, she had to stare up at her, being over a full head shorter than her. "Oh look, it's little Ottilie Salvatore," sneered Claire, "Shouldn't you be used to scratching around on the ground? I heard that's what you were used to before you went to live with the Salvatore brothers?"
Ottilie stared up at her, gobsmacked. How could she have known about her situation before moving in with Damon and Stefan?
The bully, seeing she had hit a nerve, continued her taunts, pushing Ottilie further down the corridor. "Do you want to know what else I heard?" she continued, nastily, "I heard that stupid little Ottilie has a heart condition that means that none of the teachers tell her off for being late. Do you know what that means?" Ottilie shook her head meekly. "It means that if you're missing from class for a bit, nobody will come to look for you." The older girl laughed evilly and pushed Ottilie hard against the front of some lockers.
"Why are you doing this?" gasped Ottilie as one of Claire's friends started hitting her.
"Because I can," sneered Claire, smacking Ottilie's head against the locker. The little girl slumped down towards the floor, wanting to curl up.
The older girls begin to kick at Ottilie, and she curled up, trying her best to protect herself. "I know everything about everyone here," continued Claire, "and I know how pathetic you are. My mother speaks of nothing else – lovely little Ottilie Salvatore, such a sad story… how happy she must be now… poor little Ottilie" She spat, "It's pathetic. Well, we will give you something to be sad about," she laughed again as the kicks increased in intensity, and Ottilie cried out as they reigned in on her head, stomach and chest.
Mercifully, the bell went again, and the older girls left Ottilie, a trembling, bleeding wreck on the floor. She laid there for some time, feeling her heartbeat picking up as pain and humiliation washed over her. After a few minutes, she cautiously sat up, and taking a little mirror out of her bag, checked her appearance, sighing at the scratches and bruises already forming on her face. She gingerly ran her hands over her stomach and chest, and winced at the pain that emanated from her gentle prodding. Trying to focus her breathing into deep breaths in an attempt to ward off one of her attacks, she gathered her books once again to her, and set off for Ric's classroom, limping slightly.
As she entered the classroom quietly, everyone looked across at her, and Ric stopped mid-sentence to look at her, "Miss Salvatore, nice of you to join us…" he teased, before fully taking in her appearance and sending her a look that she took to mean, 'see me after class'.
She slumped heavily into her seat, trying her best to ignore the stares of her classmates, the concerned looks of her friends, and mostly the uncomfortable sensation of her heart racing and her breathing becoming tighter.
The boy she shared a desk with, Greg, was looking at her worriedly; he was one of her best friends from elementary school, and knew of her health issues. He kept a close eye on his little friend as the lesson continued, laying a comforting hand on her back and frowning as she flinched inadvertently at the contact before quickly removing it. He reached for her wrist and felt gently for her pulse, his jaw dropping slightly when he found it racing unsteadily. "Otti," he whispered urgently, but she just shook her head at him.
"I'm fine, Greg," she whispered back, "please don't bring more attention to me…"
He swallowed and nodded, feeling uneasy but resolving to keep a close eye on her.
She really wasn't feeling well. She was trying her hardest to take in enough air without gasping and bringing yet more unwanted attention her way, and her heart was hammering so hard that she feared it might break through her ribs. She knew that Greg was concerned but she just had to get through this lesson and then she could go home.
The lesson went on and Greg found himself watching Ottilie carefully, concern making his stomach churn. He'd never seen his friend have an attack before, but knew how dangerous they could be and how much school she'd missed as a result of them. He looked at her face and was alarmed to see her lips and eyelids starting to show a blue tinge, and her eyes were starting to close, her body starting to slip from her chair as she slowly lost consciousness.
"Otti!" He grabbed hold of her tiny body around her waist to stop her from falling to the floor and she hung limply from his arms, her head lolling backwards over his shoulder.
Ric, hearing Greg calling Ottilie's name in panic, looked up sharply from his seat as his desk, and sprang into action, running over to the pair and taking Ottilie gently from the young boy's arms and laying her onto the floor. "Greg, go and get an adult and tell them to ring for an ambulance for Ottilie Salvatore, then to come here. They'll know what to do when they know it's Ottilie." The boy nodded, trembling, and ran from the room without hesitation.
Alaric shook the tiny girl's shoulders gently, trying to get some sort of response from her, before checking her neck for a pulse and listening for her breathing, swearing softly under his breath when he felt her heart beating erratically and her breathing barely there.
Another teacher ran into the room, followed by a pale and panicked Greg, and dropped to kneel next to Alaric, handing him a box labelled, 'O Salvatore'.
"I've got the kit, Ric," said the other teacher, and passed Alaric the ambu-bag from inside it, which Ric fitted over Ottilie's mouth and nose, squeezing it gently to try and coax more air into her lungs.
"Did you call for an ambulance?" he asked the other teacher who nodded whilst trying to find a pulse from one of Ottilie's wrists.
"Yes, and I sent a medical alert to Damon Salvatore to be at the hospital to meet the ambulance."
Ric nodded, and taking the ambu-bag from Ottilie's face, leaned down to check her breathing. "Shit," he swore, on finding that she now wasn't breathing for herself, and knowing that Damon would kill him if anything happened to his little girl. "Come on, Otti," he coaxed with urgency laced in voice, replacing the breathing device over her nose and squeezing it steadily, watching her chest rise and fall.
Just then, to Alaric's immense relief, the paramedics burst into the classroom, taking control of the situation. The teachers knelt back in relief as the experts took over trying to stabilise Ottilie. Having taken all of her vitals and loaded her onto a stretcher, one of the paramedics asked if either of them would come to the hospital with her. Alaric volunteered readily and the other teacher agreed to stay with his shaken students.
Alaric climbed into the back of the ambulance with Ottilie and held tightly to her hand, hoping that if she could feel it, it would bring her some comfort that she wasn't alone. The paramedics worked busily, connecting her to monitors and phoning ahead to the hospital, when he suddenly remembered something. "Her file says to contact a Dr Laughlin at the hospital," he told the paramedics who nodded and radioed it through.
On arriving at the hospital, the paramedics pushed the stretcher through the waiting area and into one of the bays indicated by the nurses who swarmed in to connect Ottilie to various machines. All Alaric could do was watch in morbid fascination as the medical professionals conversed in an urgent language of medical jargon that he couldn't understand.
His phone rang, and he looked at the caller ID. Damon. "Hey, are you here?" he spoke quickly, knowing that Damon was more than likely to be trawling through the emergency department looking for his little girl.
"I'm outside," came the reply, and Alaric could hear the panic in his voice.
"I'll come and get you, wait by the entrance," he instructed, and told the nurses quickly where he was going.
He found a flustered Damon pacing outside the front electronic doors, and wrapped him in a tight hug. "What the hell happened, Ric?" he demanded.
Alaric didn't know where to start but said that Ottilie had come in late to class looking a little worse for wear, as if she'd been beaten, and that she'd collapsed in class with one of her attacks.
"Beaten?!" cried Damon, as Alaric looked helplessly at him. "Take me to her, please," he said, in a calmer voice and Alaric lead the way back to the bay where Ottilie was connected up to a heart monitor that was beeping loudly and erratically.
Damon would never get used to seeing his daughter lying so helpless in a hospital bed. He ran over to her and kissed her forehead softly, taking her hands in his, mindful of the IVs that were now in them. "Sweetheart, it's okay, I'm here, I'm here…" he soothed, willing her to hear him and wake up.
"Mr Salvatore?" came a soft, female voice, and Damon and Alaric looked for the person it came from. "Hi, I'm Dr Laughlin, but please, just call me Jo." She reached for Damon's hand and he shook it. "We've spoken quite extensively on the phone, but it's nice to meet you in person. I'm just sorry it's under these circumstances." Damon nodded stiffly before turning back to Ottilie.
"You must be Mr Saltzman?" continued Jo, looking over at Ric who nodded shyly. "The paramedics radioed in that Ottilie's teacher was accompanying her here. She's lucky to have such devoted people in her life." Alaric smiled, mesmerised by the beautiful doctor.
Suddenly, the heart monitor beeped even more irregularly, and more nurses spilled into the room, looking for direction from Jo who started giving instructions. Medications were injected into Ottilie's IVs and another nurse returned with a defibrillator machine before turning it on and charging it to the voltage set by Dr Laughlin who took the paddles herself.
Placing the paddles onto Ottilie's chest, Jo looked around checking for any obstacles, gesturing with her head at Alaric to drag Damon away. "Clear!" she called before delivering the shock, causing Ottilie's little body to jerk slightly away from the bed.
Immediately, the heart monitor showed a normal heart rhythm and Jo sighed in relief. "Well that wasn't too bad," she said, smiling at Damon who was clutching onto Ric's arm so tightly that his knuckles were white. "Mr Salvatore, come and sit with your daughter, or I may have to treat Mr Saltzman here for a broken arm." She winked at Alaric who just stared at her gobsmacked, and Damon ran straight over to hold his daughter.