Fourteen

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A/N: what do y'all think about all the chapter aesthetics?
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Pssh. Pssh. Pssh.

My hair is fluttering in time to my breath as I push the bricks on my eyelids to open my eyes. It's taking a lot more effort than it should, which is . . . strange, at best. I don't want to think about at worst scenario.

Pssh.

This strand of hair right in front of my face is so damn annoying, since I'm already having a hard time opening my eyes or sitting up.

A groan escapes my lips and when I realize I can still speak, if not move, I mutter, "Fuck my shit, damn, fuck, fuck, fuck."

It makes me feel better, if only marginally.

A silhouette appears at my bedside and it's like the shadows are mocking me because seeing clearly is taking a lot of energy on my part.

I finally open my useless orby orbs and fix them on the face of the silhouette that's obviously a person.

And, great! now my head is mocking me too.

Because there's no way in hell Joanna Hate-Eva's-Girlfriend is standing at my bedside in—it doesn't take long to calculate it—a fucking hospital.

"Is it a ritual of yours to start cursing whenever you wake in a hospital bed?" Joanna says as she flicks on a lamp which lets me see her clearly and she gives me a sip of water.

"I do that whenever I wake up, period." God, my voice sounds so scratchy in my own throat, like someone is thrusting numerous miniscule pebbles down it.

"Well waking up can be good. We were fretting over when you will," she replies as she sits down on the chair beside me.

I want to ask for more water but something tells me she won't give me, so I don't ask.

" 'We'?" I say instead. "Why were you fretting over me?"

Joanna sighs heavily. "Your three ribs are broken, FYI. That son of a bitch chanced upon some real action before you passed out."

"That doesn’t answer my question."

"But it answers the question you should be asking. That any sensible person would be asking."

"Never claimed to be sensible," I mutter under my breath before saying loudly, "Where's Eva?"

"In the other room. Got a little bruised up herself. Bitch wasn't leaving your side but the doctors politely forced her to, an hour ago. I'm sure she'll be hella mad that she missed your iconic waking up moment."

"Nothing iconic about waking up like this, Joanna. How did Eva get bruised up?"

Joanna finally tucks that damn strand of hair back and pats my head once. "Well before you became the Hulk, he used that knife on her, and after you were done Hulking, she and Benjamin had kind of a nasty rumble before we showed up."

I open my mouth but Joanna goes on, anticipating my question, "We showed up because: well, after landing some fantastic punches at him, Eva knocked Benjamin out with one of the same whiskey bottles he cradled. Asshole blinked out, she called Travis and me, we came in like the damn saviors we are, cuffed him, and brought you two here."

Put like that, it all sounds so simple, like something that happens everyday. Maybe it does happen to Travis and Joanna everyday seeing their professional life, but for me this a huge deal. I'm sure I'll be registering the feelings of shock soon; for now I'm not feeling anything at all.

"Will Eva be okay?"

Joanna bellows out a laugh. "Your ribs are broken and the doc wants to keep you here for at least 5 days. Tend to yourself first."

She's not exactly right; maybe she is but I definitely don't agree with her, but for the time being I do need to talk to her on something without Eva present here.

"So," I start, "aren't you getting any sort of kick out of seeing me like this?"

"No schadenfreude here, bitch. Also, I need to call your doc and tell him you woke up–enough chat time."

"Wait." With herculean effort, I grab her wrist. "Clear it up. Why are you doing this? Are you suddenly okay with the fact that I'm, quote, replacing Lydia Ackles for Eva." I'd make air quotes for a more dramatic effect but my limbs still feel heavy.

Joanna sighs in an I'm-so-done way. "Listen, Charley. I don't hate you. And I'm glad you didn't die or anything. But I do hate seeing you with Eva. You can call it selfish, after all it's not like I haven't made any new friends after Lydia. But I don't know, I can't—I can't explain. Seeing Eva with you was like a clear reminder that Lydia is, that she's dead. And it's hard to bear that, you know?" Joanna blinks furiously and I appreciate that because I don't want her crying for her dead best friend, who also happens to be my girlfriend's dead wife, on my bedside. That'd be plain awkward.

"However," she says with a steady voice that I'm instantly jealous of, "do know that it's not you I have beef with—I'd probably have liked you a lot, had we met in different circumstances. You're just a medium for the anger, I'm mad at that asshole who's now effectively shut in."

"What?"

"Benjamin Ramirez. I, or someone else, can fill you in with the whole story later. For now, we need your doctor to come in."

I nod. "Joanna?"

"Mm?"

"I appreciate you saying that. That thing about me not being a problem. And I'll tell you, you don't need to make me a medium anymore. I'm going to break up with Eva."
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A/n: Sooooo . . . any idea why she's gonna do that? Comment all the theories you've got.

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