The Rejection - 22
- Jason -
Motionless. Pale. Frozen. Unconscious. Dead...
These words and others of the sort played through my mind as I gazed down at Hope's still body. Her black hair fanned the white pillow her head lay upon, and it made me want to run my fingers through its softness. I craved to see her thunderstorm eyes, but it seemed as if I would never get to again.
'No,' I scolded myself, 'she is not dead. '
I couldn't allow myself to think that way. It would only lead to depression, or better yet, a rampage, which would still lead to the depression. Neither of these I wanted to go through.
It had been a whole week since we rescued Hope; a week full of pacing and worrying for me. For the others, however, I hadn't the slightest clue. I never left Hope's side in my bedroom which was where she was resting in my bed. I either slept on the couch in front of her, or in the chair beside the bed. Victor brought me my meals, though I rarely ever even touched them; it made me physically sick. Overall, I practically placed all the duties of being an Alpha on his shoulders, seeing as how I was in no shape or form to be running a pack.
I felt bad for doing that, but what was I supposed to do when she was the only thing I could concentrate on?
I continued to look upon the beautiful creature resting before me, looking more serene and calm than I had ever seen her before, but also weak and fragile. She reminded me of a delicate porcelain doll in the cabinet of a collector. The small smile that graced her lips warmed my heart, but the feeling was quickly washed away by a tide of numbness as I remembered her current state. There was nothing anyone - let alone me - could do. This coma was Hope's fight and hers alone.
There was a light knocking from the door behind me. I wanted to yell at them to go away, already being frustrated and annoyed with whoever it was, but I refrained myself from doing so.
"It's open," I said. Even I could tell there was so emotion in my voice whatsoever, but there was no point to even caring. I wouldn't care about anything until I knew my Hope was going to be okay.
"Jason?" Thalia's small voice cracked into the silence of the room, sounding hoarse. I didn't reply, having nothing to say. It sounded as if the poor girl had been crying. "Patricia's here to do a check up."
I nodded once as a motion that I had heard, but didn't take my eyes off of Hope or move away from her. The door was shut quietly, followed by gentle footsteps coming up beside me. I glanced quickly up at the pack doctor, Patricia; she was in her mid-fifties, but looked as if she was barely thirty years old.
"Hello," Patricia's greeting was hesitant, but welcoming all the same. Once again, I refused to answer; I wasn't sure if I was able at the moment. My mind was just... Numb. Patricia seemed to realize this, but made no comment or push to speak. She then began to do all sorts of test on Hope, pulling out medical instruments from her large bag while she did. Patricia put everything back into the bag with a sigh when she was finished. "It seems that she is showing no signs of improvement."