All Night

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Before I know it, I'm pulling into the parking lot of the address that was sent to my phone. The hospital is smaller than the one in the city but big enough to assure me that Nate will be okay. I look down at my watch and it's about 12:45pm. I made it in less than 3 hours.

I park and lock my car before running into the hospital and searching for the reception desk. A short receptionist sits behind the tall desk on a squeaky rotating chair and looks up at my messy hair that was quickly thrown into a bun and my drained eyes after a night of barely any sleep.
"Can I help you?" She smiles but doesn't mean it.
"I'm looking for Nathaniel Porter, he was in an aeroplane accident," I quickly explain to her. She looks unamused before typing away on her keyboard which felt like forever. She looks back up at me gives me another once over.
"Take the lift the 2nd floor, go left and then the corridor to the right. Room 216." She looks back down at her computer screen without another thought towards me. I thank her and move as quickly as my feet will take me. Up the lift to the 2nd floor, turning directly left out of the lift and then right down the corridor. There's a line of numbered rooms. I follow them, counting up until I get to room 216. I take a deep breathe and grab a hold of the door handle. It takes me a moment to brace myself before opening the door. The rooms average sized, white and clean, the bathroom off the one side and Nate, lying on the hospital bed in the middle, his left leg in a cast and his abdomen wrapped in bandages. His face is covered in cuts and bruises which pains me. Tears form in my eyes at the sight of the most caring man that I know in this much pain. My hand reaches out and gently brushes the hair off of his forehead and over a bruise on his right eye. He winces at the light touch and my hand darts away quickly.

"I'm sorry," I apologise for putting him in more pain.
"Brook?" His voice is raspy. I cover his hand in mine.
"Yeah, it's me," I tell him, trying to convey my tears. His eyes open slightly and his mouth slants in a slight smile. My heart flutters at his excitement to see me. I never want to live my life without him in it. This is what I love seeing all the time, his need for me. Knowing that I can make him happy. His smile turns into a frown
"What are you doing here? Where's Sky?" His eyes open fully.
"Shh," I rub his arm, "Don't worry about Sky, it's okay." He looks at me confused.
"Why did you avoid the question like that? Where is she?" He tries to sit up but winces in pain and grabs at his ribs.
"Nate, don't try to move, please," I beg him.
"Just tell me where she is," he grunts. I gulp, he's not going to like this at all.
"She's at home," I pause and look at his expectant eyes. "With Shaun." I look away from him and wait for his response but all I get his silence. I look back at him and his eyes are closed and he's breathing deeply.
"It was my last option and my only option, no one else could look after her, I swear, I wouldn't do it if it wasn't completely necessary," I quickly spit out.
"Brook, you left her at home with her abusive and drunk father?" He asks quietly, almost threatening.
"Nate, just trust me please? He'll be okay, he'll do it for his daughter," I squeeze his hand and he squeezes mine back in reassurance.
"Okay but if we get back and he has done one thing wrong, I'm going to throw him across a room," he warns. I giggle and nod my head while rolling my eyes.
"In your state, you won't even be able to walk for a couple of weeks, let alone throw someone across a room," I remind him of his incapacitated state. He just grunts and lays back down comfortably in the bed.
"I bet I could still throw you down onto a bed though," he mumbles under his breath. My eyes open in shock, wondering if anyone around us can hear him but remember it's just us in the room. I lean in closer to his ear and whisper, almost moaning,
"If only." He closes his eyes and a small groan escapes his mouth.
"Don't do this to me baby, not right now," he squirms uncomfortably in his bed and adjusts himself so that the slightly erect mound in his pants is conveyed.
"At least we know that still works," I joke around laughing to myself. He grabs my arm and pulls me closer, his hand moving to the back of my head.
"That's not funny," he smiles and presses my lips to his. His mouth is warm and makes me feel safe, like his is the only mouth I've ever known.