Resistance To Assistance

The Hospital

There was something utterly terrifying about closing my eyes in Keyes' study and opening them in a pristine hospital room. There was something sick inside of me that wished to be back in Keyes clutches if only to escape the PTSD that hospital visits forced upon me.

My eyes tried their best to focus as I stared straight up at the ceiling, I blinked repeatedly to chase away the tears that threatened to push over my water line.

I was still in significant pain, but it was considerably less than when I had last breached consciousness. I lay still, closing my eyes again, and started to make small movements to judge the amount of pain I was in and where it was localised to.

My legs were mostly fine except that I couldn't feel anything but pins and needles in my right shin. My pelvis was intact but very bruised. My stomach had burns and bruises, but I didn't have a catheter, so my organs must have been more or less unscathed. My right hand had three splinted fingers, and the wrist was in a brace, the entire arm, much like my left one, which had only suffered a small amount of stitches on the hand where I had been sliced, was gathered against my chest in a sling which had been strapped into place so that I couldn't do more damage while I slept. I still had the traces of dizziness and lack of clarity to suggest my concussion had not fully left me. Aside from that, I could feel several areas of stitches on my face, and my left cheekbone had straps on it, which suggested that there was some kind of fracture there. My wrists, even the wrist with the brace on it, were wrapped in layers of bandages that were spotted with blood.

"Jesus Christ!" I spat, I inhaled deeply. The pain in my ribs was much more evident when I didn't remember to be careful about shallow breathing.

"Jay!" Burgess' voice cried out to me, I opened my eyes again and turned slowly to face my left where her voice had come from fighting nausea at the movement of my head.

"Kim." It exhausted me beyond belief to say that one word, especially after the outburst I'd had seconds previous. "Safe?" I asked her, I slid my left arm out of its sling, my shoulder groaning in protest, but not being too painful, I wasn't worried. I reached towards her carefully, and she shuffled her chair closer to the side of my bed to take my hand in both of hers.

"We're safe, Jay. You saved us." She broke down in tears, head bowed over our joined hands. The sobs wracked her small body, her shoulders working hard to take the force of them. Poor girl must be exhausted.

"Kim," I attempted to pull her closer by the hand that she held in hers. I wanted to offer her comfort, but my body wasn't up to much, so I hoped that she'd get the message and come to me. "Kim," my voice hurt to use, and my throat and mouth were both so dry that every time I moved my tongue, I was worried about it sticking.

She sniffled and looked up at me. She stood when I motioned for her to and sat timidly on the edge of my hospital cot. I adjusted my position, painfully scooching to the far right of the cot, right arm resting against the barrier as I pulled Kim down to rest with me. She sniffled and curled her head down so she could rest it on my collar bone.

"Do you need anything?" Kim whispered, her voice barely registering over the irritating noise of the heart monitor.

"Water." She rose up to lean on her elbow, and I observed the fact that she was still wearing the blood coated clothes she wore earlier. The red t-shirt was now stained brown as the blood dried and the jeans in a similar state. She reached past my head, her hand reappearing with a plastic cup of water and a straw.

After a couple of big sips, I felt able to talk, so I moved away from the straw, and Kim put the cup back wherever she got it from.

"You pull the short straw or something?" I grinned at her as she lay down with me again, this time facing me instead of tucking herself into me. Her brow quirked up, unimpressed. "Gotta hang out with me and miss out on a days wages,"