Sorry it's been such a long time. Here's the next chapter. There are some unexpected twists in this part! (Cookies to those who guess!) Enjoy! :) Please R&R!
"Charge to 360! Clear!" Sacha barked orders to the nearby nurse, his tone frantic and his eyes frenzied. Joseph was in a state of sheer panic. His breathing rapid, his heart groaning inside. He said nothing. He just stared manically at the defibrillator, the simple object that could only save Jac now. Sahira's hand flew to her mouth and she stepped back in incredulity. Rapidly, Sacha placed the panels on Jac's chest, his mouth as dry as dust. Joseph's eyes grew wide in distress, hoping Jac's fighting instincts would prevail. She looked so fragile sprawled across the bed. The electric current made Jac's bloodstained body shudder, but the voltage worked to no avail. "AND AGAIN! CLEAR!" Sacha repeated, in no position to give up. Was it too late? She was so white, her life force drained. This time, Jac's body went into a larger spasm and the equipment beeped in relief as her life returned. "She's back." Sacha said, reprieve flooding his veins. Joseph closed his eyes, his shaking hands resting on the metal post of the bed in front of him. Life is such a fragile thing he thought, glancing at the woman that had been through so much. I love her, I want to protect her, but she pushes me away like I'm some kind of vermin. Yes, I left her, but I had to do it, for Harry. To come here, I had to leave him at the crèche, and god knows what kind of infections he can pick up there. But I still did it, to come back, to come to Holby – where the woman I am going to marry is. I just nearly lost her and I won't risk that again, I couldn't live with myself. I can look after her; all she has to do is wake up! Please Jac, wake up!
Jac's eyes flickered and shut again. Everything was white. Almost instantly, a shooting pain extending from the side of her head to the ache in her legs came into reality. She moaned and tried to roll over onto her side, but the throbbing was too much. Gradually, her mind adjusted to the sudden consciousness and she tried to recall what she had been dreaming about. Bad memories. She reached out to feel the wound she knew she most of acquired on her head, expecting uncongealed blood. However, as her hand met her cranium, instead of the stickiness of the blood that she had been anticipating, she felt a soft material that had been wrapped carefully around the gash. She couldn't have been unconscious for that long could she? Opening her eyes, she squinted as they came accustomed to the new light. Her fist sight was the sleek figure of Joseph Byrne, his hands twitching around the many folders piled on the table on the far side of the wall. Hurriedly, the beeping of the machines around her, with pierced Jac's eardrums uncomfortably, signalled to Joe that she was awake. Her lips felt dry, her tongue lying lifeless on the bottom of her mouth. She was in a bad state. Coughing, she squirmed under her neatly tucked bedcovers, ignoring the pain of moving. Joseph rushed over, but then suddenly stopped short when he saw the hollow, defeated look in Jac's eyes. Over all the years he had worked in this Hospital, he had never seen anything like it. Not from the distraught relatives, the sick citizens, even from the patients that were on the verge of death. Then why was he seeing it now? His concern was the only thing he concentrated on, so he dismissed the shock from Jac's appearance. "What happened?" Joseph asked gently. Her pale complexion creased in concentration, her haunted eyes grew and she jerked in a possessed fright when she remembered. When she saw his face. The devils face.
"Pete…" She slurred, her eyes glazing over. Joseph leaned in, assuming a confidential air. "He… t…t…ook me in…to a c…cupboard… a…nd… he…" Joe cocked his head, motioning her to go on. But, Jac stopped in defiance, her ice-queen shield returning. She wasn't one to admit a weakness. She turned her head away from the ever-growing stare from her ex, arms crossed, refusing to recall any more.
"Jac, if you tell me, I can help you." Joseph pleaded. Yet, he already knew, and he fumed with anger inside, it took all his strength not to show it.
"I think you've already figured it out, in that OCD, possessive head of yours." Jac replied, her voice returning, her sharp, angry tone portraying her real feelings towards life. "I don't know whether to laugh or pity you. You've got it all worked out, wife, son, dog, big country house… And I don't fit in that perfect little picture of yours. If you may have already noticed, I am not a people person." Jac continued, spite curling around her tongue. Joseph sighed, his irritation rising.
"Have you ever read the bible Jac? It fundamentally states to be a better person…" Jac raised an eyebrow, her face incredulous and mocking.
"Yeah well, the bible was written by the same people who said the earth was flat." Jac's face hardened, her eyes narrowing. "This is an excellent time for you too become a missing person." Instantly, she felt a pang of regret at the hurt on Josephs face, his brilliant blue eyes drooping in sorrow. "Joseph… I…" At that moment, Sahira and Sacha, deep in conversation, heaved open the door.
"Joseph, her head Ct's clear. No brain-damage." Sacha said, oblivious to the fact that his patient had regained consciousness. Sahira surveyed the room in one swift glance and a small smile broke onto her face when she discovered that Jac was alert. "She's awake." Sahira edged forward towards her colleague, but suddenly stopped, as her predecessor before her, when she saw the uncharacteristic emotion in her eyes.
"So, what are the facts?" Jac said, dismissing Josephs incessant staring.
"You're fine. If symptoms don't persist, I'm happy for you to be discharged in an hour or two…" Sacha replied after heading towards the bed. Jac nodded thoughtfully, slight annoyance edged into her features. "And… I've got you some flowers! Glad you're awake - they would have wilted soon…" Jac's eyebrows nearly reached her hairline.
"Flowers…?"
"Well… it was either that or some green Christmas kickers, so…." Sacha smiled. Jac took them slowly, placing them on the small, plastic table that was attached to her bed. A sleek accent flew through the door like a ghost, its pang of American more exceptionally annoying as usual. Michael Spence knocked on the door with his ring free knuckle, entering without agreement.
"Hey! I just heard the enemy side has just lost there leader!" Michael smirked, adjusting his gold watch that was placed around his left wrist.
"Why don't you go play doctors and nurses with Sunil?" Jac retorted, angry at the unexpected intrusion of privacy.
"Well… I'm sure you would find it hilarious if I did that, and annoyed if I stayed, but I should be somewhere, so see you around." Mr Spence replied, turning on his heel and departing. Jac exhaled gratefully.
"Well, as I have nothing better to do, I'm leaving." Jac stated, her Ice-Queen exterior mending the cracks of the nightmare.
"You can't I'm afraid. We just have to monitor you until you're ready. It will only be two hours at the most." Sacha said, glancing at Sahira for back-up.
"What do you expect me to do? Sit around and read heat magazine?"
"Sacha's right. You're not well Jac, you should stay." Joseph intervened, worried at the determination on Jac's face.
"No, I have work to do, I have patients to treat, errands to run, surgery to complete… I'm not staying!" Jac demanded, seizing the duvet that had held her to her bed and throwing it of. She groaned in pain, her head dizzy, and her legs weak. But she still carried on. "Where are my clothes?"
Jac walked, disorientated, into Keller, clutching at her stomach to which she had fallen onto. She breathed in, concentrating the pain into one specific area. She could feel the tears that were threatening to full as behind her eyes began to tingle, so she began craving the self-harming ghost of her past that had resurfaced since this situation had started. Across the ward, John Bulk spotted the wavering surgeon and gestured her over. Jac hesitated – Like father, like son? She thought. Slowly, she headed over, her walk misguided and slow, slightly due to the thought of the patient but mostly because the pain was now overtaking, although she chose to ignore it. When she arrived, her eyes widened in shock at the grave expression on John's face. His mother was slumped on the chair next to him, not asleep, but resting. "I'm sorry." John said, placing a soft hand on her arm.
"Well, you have your own problems right now." Jac replied, shrugging him of and battling the emotions that had conquered her head. No one will ever know how I am really feeling. I feel sick, sick to the core. I want to cry but I can't - What would people think of me? I'm so scared, perhaps even more frightened that I have ever been before. I can feel the urge to cut, to cut out the pain, cut until it stops. Because, even when I'm bleeding out, I just can't see it. How it kills me. No one ever asks why since no one knows; no one knows that when I was younger and when I could see no way out of misery I would reach for the knife. I tried to stop myself but the feeling would never really leave.
"What do you mean?" John asked.
"I'm quite certain there's a gang missing your presence right now…" Jac replied, tilting her head to highlight the fact he was still wearing his costume.
"Oh, this outfit? It was for a stag doo… never had the time to take it of." Jac forced a weary smile.
"Well, tell Shaggy that Mr Hanssens office is down that corridor, three doors to the left." Ms Naylor said, gesturing to the hallway behind her. John raised an eyebrow and fiddled with the mop of brown hair that nestled in thick curls on top of his head.
"Right… why?" He said. Jac readied her tongue for the fluent sarcasm she found so easy to prepare.
"I have a suspicion that ABBA might be hiding underneath his mask…." She mocked, half smiling. John threw her an exasperated look, raising his eyebrows in an unspoken query, knowing better than to question her words. Jac sighed.
"He's the surgeon that's going to be performing your op." She said, flicking her hair with a slight toss of her head.
"Thanks…" John replied, his eyes drooping now. "I really am sorry." Jac dismissed his apology with a simple nod and continued.
"Oh, and you might want to check out Mr Douglas too, he may look tall but I'm sure he's part leprechaun." Jac's eyes were hollow, as if emphasizing the sombre emotion that had captured the bright spark to which she still had a protective hold of. She stoked her arm ceaselessly in the uncomfortable silence, only to stop when Belinda arose from her dreary slumber.
"Can I speak with you for a moment?" She asked the fatigued surgeon, standing up and gesturing to the nearest kitchen. Jac hesitated; she could see the unhealthy glint in Belinda's eye, and the slight twitch of her left hand that was placed sensibly in her trousers pocket.
"Fine." She uttered. Belinda nodded and resumed her motion to continue, beckoning Jac forward. Reaching for the door handle that lead to the kitchen, Jac heard a yell reverberate around the ward, loud, acute, making the duo turn their heads in unison to the speaker who was no running towards them.
"Jac!" Oliver Valentine burst hurriedly onto the ward, shouting stridently at his mentor and waving some incomplete notes in the air around him. Skidding to a halt in front of the door which Jac had, conveniently, not yet opened, Oliver tried to catch his breath, muttered some unprofessional words and straightened his arched back.
"What do you want Valentine?" Jac demanded, mastering all of her strength to dismiss the layers of sarcasm building up around her tongue. Oliver squirmed under her steely gaze and shifted his feet nervously. Jac narrowed her eyes. "What is it?"
"Sacha sent me to get you, you really shouldn't be working you know…" He said.
"Yeah well, Sacha is also the one who thinks chinos are cool and that carrots grow on trees." Jac smirked. Belinda coughed impatiently, her elbows perpendicular with her stomach and the dark crevices that lined her face a recognisable metaphor for the dark scars that formed her past. Quickly, Jac gestured for her to wait inside with a swift wave of her hand.
"His mind is a whole new world…" confessed Oliver, looking down at his mentor, relieved that the relative had been dismissed. "But, he is a doctor and a highly qualified one at that." Ollie continued, his hands poised for persuading.
"Really? I thought he was just a stupid, fat halfwit. Oh no… I forgot… he's both." Jac disdained, sneering with the vestige of hatred that her body still retained. Oliver's face contorted into a perturbed expression, the darkening shadows under his eyes a consequence of the many sleepless nights that he had endured. Jac sighed. "Remember what happened last year Ollie? What I told you? That's even truer now." Jac's features twitched with unwanted emotion, the scornful smirk on her face almost mocking the sombre feelings that were slicing through her frozen heart, nearly breaking the ice. Oliver placed a tentative hand on her shoulder, his eyes, a glistening blue sea, fixed onto hers, a meadow lost to abandonment. In the silence, the world around them seemed to have zoned out and Ollie took a cautious step forward, almost sighing in relief when Jac didn't back away. He smiled suddenly, and lifted his hand to her cheek, tracing the outline of her jaw with his thumb. Then he leaned in. All Jac could hear was the inhaling of her breath and her heart beating frantically in her chest. As their lips brushed, the pure, ravenous Oliver wanted more, he wanted the kiss to deepen, but Jac pulled away. What have I done! Jac gasped in a moment of surprise and Oliver looked to one side, nervously stroking his head, embarrassed.
"Yeah… I better go tell Sacha then." Ollie said.
"Yeah, you do that, be quick." Jac replied, her mentality pounding with thoughts. Oliver rushed off, perceptibly eager to be rid of the situation as soon as possible. "Doctor?" Belinda's voice broke Jac's ceaseless puzzlement, providing an area for the armies of emotion to conquer all. Jac entered the room quickly, her persona switched to professional. After a moment of silence, Belinda motioned for her acquaintance to sit, but Jac, in defiance, chose to stand, arms crossed and powerful.
"Yes?" Jac said, her eyes fixed onto Belinda's, almost willing her to try something.
"Can I have a cup of tea before I say anything?" Belinda asked.
"Ha, that's very British…" Jac replied and headed for the counter to which the cups were situated. Her back turned, Jac waited for Belinda to resume talking. Belinda's eyes darkened. In one swift movement, she snatched the knife up from the work-top and thrust Jac, hard, against the tiled wall, wrenching her left arm, so it twisted, against her back. Jac made to yell, but Belinda was too quick, pressing her hand, rigid, against Jac's mouth, muffling any attempts to scream. She struggled. Her limbs were exhausted. Her eyes gradually drooping. Slowly, Belinda took the knife in her right hand, the other restraining Jac to the wall, and held it up to the light. Jac gulped. Her eyes widened in terror. Her whole body shook. Belinda cocked her head, her dark eyes examining Jac with a new-found interest.
"Know… you will do what I tell you, yes?" She said, the words curling around her tongue, sounding more serpent than man. Jac nodded, in a state of absolute horror.
"Well, that's good, because you know what happens if you don't, right?" Belinda replied, brushing the hair out of Jac's pleading eyes. She engraved the knife gently across Jac's neck. Droplets of blood trickled from the wound, forming red tears on her clothes. "And that's only just the start."
Da Da Daaaaa! There you go! Hopefully You've read the story if your reading this! :P Hope you liked the unexpected twists! :)