Me trying to post on schedule for the first time, who cheered? Who knows, maybe I'm going to work on a new multi-chapter fic next week. Stay tuned. Grateful for your reviews as always!
Blur. Like he was back at school doing optic tests in science class, unable to focus on the subject. He blinked repeatedly, and only then could he see some shapeless silhouettes and outlines, but the extreme luminosity made him nauseous and blind. The full-bodied numbness scared him the most, popping up the question of whether he survived and, if not, whether he turned out to be in heaven or hell (though, let's face it, he would never be let in heaven with all of his baggage, given that he didn't believe in the afterlife itself). Minutes passed, and he felt something, or someone, squeezing his hand. He tried to turn his head to look at the source of it. His body didn't cooperate. Suddenly, he heard more than one voice, more than one noise, sounding like a broken vinyl record. He was immersed further into the darkness.
The next time, he found himself less groggy. His vision cleared. He put two and two together. Hospital room? Muffled sounds of sobbing beside him caught him by surprise.
"Gillian," he said, barely audible, reaching out to touch her elbow.
"Cal!" She immediately jumped from her chair, kneeling down in front of his bed and kissing him on the forehead. Her tears ran down from her cheeks to his skin.
"Why are you crying, love?" He wiped them away with his thumb.
"I'm sorry, I can't help it. You scared me, you know?" Gillian forced a smile.
"What have I done this time?" Cal kept a light tone, struggling to ignore his pain and wincing.
She tried to compose herself and let out a shaky breath. "You were shot, Cal…On a case with Ria, investigating the police cover-up."
His eyes widened in surprise. "I…I don't remember. Is she alright?"
"She is, thanks to you."
"Good," he whispered, bringing his other arm to his chest to feel the bandage.
"Don't," she protested. "You had surgery moments ago."
The realisation of what had happened hit out of nowhere.
"Am I…?"
"Yes, Cal, you're going to make a full recovery." Gillian stroked his cheek. "You should rest, though."
The waves of exhaustion covered him. He couldn't surrender just yet.
"How long have I been out?"
"A day."
"You didn't sleep for twenty-four hours."
It wasn't a question.
"I haven't slept without you by my side in a very long time," she laughed.
"I'm sorry," he said, taking her hand and kissing her knuckles.
"You are. To believe you might stop putting yourself in unnecessary danger is childish, but please... It's one thing when it's a silly risk — hell, even gambling... This changes everything. Never again, to this extreme. Please?"
"Never again. Pinky promise."
Cal closed his eyes for a minute and then opened them once more.
"Emily?"
"I called her. She'll take the next flight and be here soon."
"I don't want to worry her."
"Well, I wish you would've thought about that beforehand," she joked.
"Get some sleep, darling. I hate it when you cry," Cal stated gently, dozing off.
"I will. I just need to make sure you're okay first."
"I love you."
"I love you too."