Part I: Bored to Death

Chapter: Bad Dreams

Margot dreamt of a hospital.

It was the same dream, always the same, that had haunted her for eleven years now.

She was tied to a hospital bed, her hands and arms on her sides, so that she couldn't move. She felt nauseous, groggy and sleepy, her head was like a water balloon, filled with some heavy liquid.

They drugged me. Why did they drug me?

She tried to sit up, forgetting her bonds, but they held tight, and she couldn't.

She was just 14 years old, just a little girl, and she was scared.

"Mom!" she cried out. "Mom! Help me!"

Her voice echoed in the empty room, but there was no reply. The door on the other wall stayed shut, no one came.

Tears began to run down her face, and she started sobbing.

"I didn't mean it." she whispered. "It was an accident, I'm sorry! Please, Mom!"

It took a long time before she heard the door opening, and someone stepped in. She turned her tired, swollen eyes to the door.

"Mom…?"

But it was just a nurse, a young dark haired woman with a scared and nervous look on her face.

"You're awake." she said, apologetic. "I'll give you another dose."

"No!" Margot screamed. "No, please! I just want to go home! Please-"

"I'm sorry, but that is not possible." the nurse replied, beginning to prepare the injection.

Margot switched and turned on her bed, trying to fight herself free, but there was so little strength in her, that she couldn't. A desperate cry escaped her lips.

"Please…" she breathed. "I want to see my Mom."

The nurse turned her gaze to her face for the first time, and seemed to be truly sorry for her. But there was something else, something that made Margot's heart freeze.

She was afraid of her.

What have I become?

"I'm sorry, child." the nurse said. "But you'll never see your mother again. She's given you up. You'll never go home now."

With that she woke up, as always.

"You'll never go home."

Well, fuck you, thought Margot. I do what I want.

Her usual response to almost anything.

But then she remembered - there was nothing usual in this day. This was the day she should've died, but unless the afterlife existed, she was still alive. And she suspected there weren't haunting nightmares in the afterlife, nor itching nightgowns.

She sat up, gasping, just to realize, that she was indeed in a hospital bed, a cannula stuck to the back of her hand.

"Margot?" asked a familiar voice nearby. It was Marco, she noticed, sitting in a chair by her bed. "Hey, it's alright. You're safe."

Margot was breathing fast, her heartbeat rapid in her ears. Goddamned, she hated hospitals. With a swift thought she ripped the needle off her hand, and turned her eyes to Marco. He had dark shadows under his eyes, and his face was unshaved. He looked like he hadn't slept in a week.

Seeing his face, Margot suddenly felt scared.

"Is John…?" she was afraid to finish the sentence. "Is he-?"

"He's alive, thanks to you." Marco stated. "You fixed him. But that was a damn stupid thing to do, Margot. We almost lost you."

"I'm fine." she said, looking away from him.

John was alive. He was alive! He'd live to see another day.

A relief so huge, it took her breath away, washed over Margot. It was almost enough to make her forget the other stuff - the black shadow of death, that rested heavily on her soul.

"How long was I out of it, anyways?" she asked, to get something else to think about.

"Two days. I was really worried. I thought you'd never wake up."

"Two days, huh?" she asked. "That long? So how is John?"

"Still unconscious." Marco's voice sounded worried, and it had a dark tone to it. "They've operated him two times now, probably will for a third too. I know you fixed him, but there was still a lot left for the surgeons to do. They say it's a miracle he survived."

Margot couldn't reply. She lay back down on her bed, and looked at the vase on her bedside table. Someone had brought flowers to her (she suspected it was Marco), a bouquet of pink and white carnations, but she hardly noticed them. Her mind was still on what had happened.

She remembered the feeling of holding John's heart, and it made her breathless.

"What I did was no more than first aid." she finally replied.

"It was a bit more than that. I had no idea you could do that kind of stuff."

"Neither did I." She shrugged. "But I'm no healer. It was a damn hard thing to do."

"It was a damn stupid thing to do too. It almost cost you your life." Marco leaned closer to her, his dark brown eyes worried and tired. "Why did you do it, Margot?"

"Is it not part of the job description? I was the team leader, I couldn't just let him die. We're like the musketeers, no? One for all and all for one."

"Don't try to turn this into a joke. I thought you died. I've never been as scared in my life, as when I carried you out of that place. I-" he stopped mid sentence, clearly too emotional to speak, and suddenly Margot felt bad for him.

Damn, why did he still care? She'd never get it. She knew well enough, there wasn't anything worth loving in her soul, but somehow she couldn't make the rest of the world to see that.

"Marco, I'm sorry." she breathed, placing her fingers gently on his arm. "I had to do it. He would've done the same for me."

"Yeah. Because he's in love with you."

Margot was silent for a few moments.

"And I'm in love with him."

God, it felt horrible to say it out loud. It felt like her heart was being ripped apart. Tears burnt her throat, and made her feel vulnerable - something she really hated.

"I thought as much." Marco replied, after a short pause. "And I can totally see why. He is a nice guy."

"Yeah." Margot tried to suppress her tears, but it came out a sob nevertheless. "But it makes no difference. Nothing can ever come out of it."

"Again with the stupid." noted Marco. "The guy worships you. Did you hit your head when you fell to the floor, or what's going on?"

"Marco, I-" Margot tried to begin. Damn it, why did he make her say this! "You of all people… you should know why I can never have him."

"I know why you think you can't have him, but that's just plain stupid. Just because we couldn't make it work, doesn't mean you're supposed to live without love for the rest of your life."

Margot gave him an annoyed look. "I've been awake for what, two minutes now, and you've called me stupid four times. I'm beginning to recall why we broke up."

"We broke up, because you got bored." Marco noted. "And it was like eight years ago, so it has absolutely nothing to do with what's going on. I'm just trying to talk some reason to you. I mean, are you really saying, that you saved the guy just to dump him?"

"What is this, the Spanish inquisition?" Margot snapped. "Enough with the questions. I want to see him."

Marco raised an eyebrow. "You sure you feel up to it?"

"Yes." she nodded, and forced herself to sit up again, even if her head was spinning. "And you can either help me, or get out of my way."

"As always." Marco rolled his eyes at her. "Come on, then."

He offered her a hand, and helped her to get up. Leaning heavily on his arm, Margot managed to stand up and walk out of her room.