Don't Look Back! Part 2

Chapter Twelve: It's a new day, a new dawn

Cold flooding her body, Lucy lay on the table, her arm pressed against the coarse fabric of the stretcher. Her lungs burned as more blood expelled from them. The last bit of life in her body, she watched as Jack walked past her and out of the room, leaving it dark and empty.

The eyes closed, Lucy began to cry. Tears mixed with blood as they covered her face and chest. The heart beat slower as the last bit of blood flooded her lungs and the colour faded from her face, leaving behind an empty body.

In the dark of the room, the lightning-like lines shone bright, illuminating it in an eerie blue tone. Underwater or too far into the sky to see any light, yet not dark enough to be pure black. All over Lucy's body, the lines appeared and wandered throughout her chest, her face, over her arms and legs, warming her up. The colour on her face changed to bright rosy gold.

A loud crack cut through the silence of the dark room, and in the same moment, Lucy exhaled so sharp, the blood that had gathered in her mouth got sucked into her lungs.

Coughing, Lucy jacked up, leaning over her knees as she coughed out the blood. More and more, but inside her body, the wounds healed. Her skull set into place. The brain save and sound in the cavity where it belonged. Bloodshot eyes returning to their white form with the glistening ocean blue irises, like her brother's.

Minutes of bone cracking and setting followed, Lucy whimpering at every movement and ringing for air as every breath stung. Still covered in blood, she climbed off the table, her legs shaky and she dropped to the ground, too weak to keep herself up.

On the cold floor, Lucy rolled on her back, staring at the dark ceiling. A laugh rolled over her lips and for a moment, she closed her eyes. The heartbeat inside her chest grew stronger like rain pattering on a roof, and inside her ears the blood rushed in the melody of waves on the ocean. Calm and exhausted, Lucy closed her eyes once again.

Right above her on the ceiling, a silhouette formed. Levitating with its face down to watch her. At first she did not recognise him, but when the light dimmed a bit, her smile grew bigger. Jack.

Her limbs ached as she crawled over the floor to the door and pushed herself off the ground to flick the light switch. In the light, Lucy spotted a hospital gown, and although she hated that terrible pattern, it looked better than the blood soaked clothes on her body. With the gown in hand, she staggered out the door and along the hallway in search of a shower, or bath, or even just a sink to clean her face.

The metal taste in her mouth grew stronger the farther she walked and by the time she reached the elevator, blood had dripped from her lips, joined by saliva. In her struggle to get up, she had bit her tongue and felt a tiny piece hang off the side, just big enough to get caught between her teeth when she moved her tongue around.

A soft swish sounded from the elevator when the doors opened and Jack, in uniform, accompanied by another soldier and a doctor stood before Lucy.

Shielding her eyes from the sudden light, Lucy collapsed into Jack's arms, the familiar smell in her nose and the bright green eyes before her as she sank to the ground.

Jack lifted her up, pushing off the other soldier's hands, and carried her into the elevator and to the hospital wing where a third doctor and Dr Paige joined them to see the miracle.

It took several tests and a number of blood draws until the doctors agreed. Lucy, alive and well, yet still exhausted, would be strong enough for the new experiment. Her white blood cell count shot through the roof between the first and third blood draw, but after the seventh, it had regulated, her blood pressure remained level at 114/78mmHg, and by looking at her anyone would have thought her asleep after a long day.

Jack had stayed with her the entire time, not only by Dr Paige's orders, but by his own demand. He cleaned off the blood from her face and chest, dressed her in simple trousers and a t-shirt and even fluffed up the pillow for her to lay on.

Four days had passed since Lucy returned, and still she had not shown any sign of consciousness. No reason given, no cause found. She lay in bed alone, guarded by four soldiers. Two inside, two outside the room at all times. The only doctors allowed to enter were Dr Paige and Dr Wilson, who had run about twelve tests on her so far and determined that her mind opposed to her body would need more time to recover.

Resting on his bed, Jack stared at the ceiling. He had tried to communicate with Lucy, but other than the short flicker of contact before she left her death bed, he had not managed to establish a connection. Lucy, can you hear me?

Nothing.

Please, just tell me if you're alright

No answer. Jack did not give up. Over and over he asked her questions, begged for a response, a sign, even just a flicker of light, but Lucy remained silent.

Disappointed, Jack pulled a photograph from his pocket. After Luke had been taken away, he found it on the ground, ripped in half, but on the back it said in cursive letters "Lucy's third birthday, love you baby"

A smile on his lips, Jack placed the photo on the night stand beside him and turned to the wall.

Jack?