Chapter 20: It's Just Begun

I spent two days in the hospital having blood and various other chemicals pumped into my body. The doctors treated me like some sort of medical curiosity; they poured in and out of the room, new ones every time, coming to see me like I was some sort of circus freak. Jane came up with some cockeyed story about bug bites, but that just seemed to egg them on in trying to figure out what had happened to me. Whenever they asked I just told them I couldn't remember.

The nurses made jokes about the bite marks, how I must have had vampires sucking my blood. They'd all laugh and make scary faces at one another while I just smiled weakly and closed my eyes. I hoped none of them would ever find out just how unfunny being bitten by a vampire really was.

I was beginning to feel better, though. Ben and Jane took shifts sitting at my bedside and various other friends came in to gawk and chat. The giant hubbub that was the hospital itself was comforting, even at three o'clock in the morning I knew there was someone just outside the door if I needed them. This was all wonderful because of all things, what I really didn't want was to be alone. If I was alone I would start to think, and if I started to think…well, let's just say I was intent on keeping my attention diverted at all times.

On the second day Jane tried to get me to confide in her again. I lay there with all the tubes sticking out of me and stared at the ceiling for a moment. It wasn't that I was ashamed of what had happened; why the hell should I be? What happened to me was caused by pure, unabashed evil; it was in no way my fault. I knew that for certain. I just wasn't sure that I wanted to relive it out loud so soon (or ever) and telling Jane the story only felt like spreading my pain to a larger audience, something that I could only see as completely unnecessary. When I said these last thoughts out loud Jane, in her infinite goodness, dismissed them as pure nonsense, insisting that voicing what had happened would be difficult, but it would be good for me. She also scoffed at the implication that she couldn't handle it.

So finally I gave in and she listened as I recounted the kidnapping and the bites…and the rest. I wouldn't let myself cry. I hate crying in front of people; but it was difficult once Jane let a few tears fall. I finished as quickly as I could; once I had started, it poured right out of me – I barely even took breaths between sentences. But when it was over, I felt lighter. The monsters in my mind had lost an ounce (if only an ounce) of their power. I finally breathed that sigh of relief and told Jane that she could tell anyone whatever they wanted to know, so long as I didn't have to ever again.

I slept easier that night. Better too. Yet still I couldn't help but wake up in the middle of the night. The lights from the machines beside me and the window in the door kept the room from being completely dark. It did make sleep slightly harder to achieve, but I knew they weren't the reason I woke up this time.

I was still exhausted and moving around agitated my wounds. I shifted slightly to a more comfortable position and couldn't prevent myself from groaning in the process. Then I stared up at the ceiling again and closed my eyes for a moment.

"I know you're there, Lestat." I said clearly, but quietly so as not to arouse the suspicions of the people outside.

Sure enough, he appeared out of the shadowed corner opposite my bed. It was so strange to see him hovering in the dark instead of declaring his presence immediately upon arrival. He came to the side of the bed and surveyed the machinery and the tubes sticking out of my arms. His face was set somewhere between concern and anger; he didn't even bother to hide it. A tiny voice in my head whispered that maybe, just maybe, what happened to me had affected him more than I thought. Still, I was tired and not in the mood to be playing games.

"What do you want?" I said to the ceiling. It was still hard to look at him.

"I don't want anything. I came to see how you were doing." His voice was soft and even. There was no hint of ego or intrigue; I almost couldn't believe it was him talking. Still, I wasn't feeling particularly charitable.

"I'm doing just peachy, can't you tell?" I shoved my IV-laden elbow towards him for effect but only succeeded in aggravating every other part of my body. I groaned again involuntarily and brought my arm back to my side.

He jumped a little when I groaned and rushed closer to the bed looking worried. Worried! Was this really happening?

"Should I call the nurse?" he asked hesitantly.

"No, I'm fine," I grunted, staring at the ceiling again.

"Evie, please look at me."

I still didn't want to. So he looked a little concerned. So what? I was a fucking train wreck; anyone who didn't look concerned after seeing me would have to have a heart of ice. I mentally kicked myself. He was making an attempt at being nice. This may not ever happen again.

I turned my head slowly and looked at him. "I don't have anything to say."

"Yes," he said, "You do. I can see it in your face."

"What, not reading minds anymore?"

"Evie…"

"What?" I was getting frustrated again. Why was he even here?

"I'm sorry."

Excuse me? That one threw me for a loop. I gaped at him. "Excuse me?"

"This shouldn't have happened to you."

"Is that what you came here to say? 'This shouldn't have happened to you?' Of course it shouldn't have happened to me! What's wrong with you?" It all came out in a torrent; my voice grew louder with each word, I barely remembered in time that someone might hear me and come in. I didn't need a psychiatric evaluation on top of all this.

Lestat looked flustered. "Why are you so angry with me?" He asked.

That was the wrong question. So much for concerned.

I trained my eyes back on the ceiling and told him to get out or I'd call the nurse.

"Evie, you can't just shut me out!"

"Watch me. Good night Lestat."

"I'm not leaving until you talk to me!"

I showed him the hand remote and pushed the button.

That pissed him off. "I guess I'll have to wait," he said in his best charming tone.

He disappeared as the nurse entered the room.