Devil's Desire [h.s.]

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

I'd gone from not being able to breathe to being able to breathe too much all at once.

It felt like my lungs were working for the first time in fucking weeks, drawing in breath after breath, overwhelming themselves at the very notion of what my body was currently doing. There was a glaringly heavy pain in the area of my temple that always acted up whenever I was stressed or had had a little too much caffeine in much too little of a time frame, but I didn't dare open my eyes. Not when I figured that it would send that pain skyrocketing.

What was going on?

My body felt... heavy. Much too heavy. Almost numb, it seemed, for one reason or another. Struggling to rein in my breathing, I instinctively wiggled my toes – or tried to, at least – only to find that the pain in my head snaked to my calves, which tiptoed up to just above my knees. My entire legs cramped up in the matter of a few seconds.

"Jesus," I muttered, but it came out as less of a word and more of a croak.

I'd finally just willed my heart to beat steadily and my breathing to even out when it all came flooding back.

The gallery showing, the warehouse explosion, the shooting – Harry.

That was it. That was what finally possessed me to slowly crack one eye open. And then a second. Only to be greeted by darkness.

My lids felt substantially massive as I attempted to blink, wondering with brief panic if I'd gone blind, thankful at the reassurance that coursed through me when the room slowly started to come into focus. Dark focus, that was. Wherever I was, it was full of boxes. The room's windows were shuttered tight, and the only light was coming from the monitor beside me – attached to me, I realized with a small start, catching a quick glance at the wires popping out from beneath my shirt. It was emanating a gentle hum, beeping occasionally.

Heart rate's steady, I thought with a little laugh, staring at the screen by my side for a second too long before the pain in my head popped back up. Harry'll be happy.

Harry.

"Harry–" I tried to speak again but the word came out garbled. My mouth felt dry. Was he here? Was he okay?

The panic was back, which was especially tough because I could hardly see less than a foot in front of me and my entire body was cramping up. I needed to find him. Did Damien get to him? Did Derek?

Oh my god. This was all my fault. My fucking fault –

Squirming like a little fish, I urged my leaden limbs to move. Move, God fucking damnit. I was not about to sit around wasting away when he could be in trouble, or hurt, or –

"Fuck!" A muffled voice shouted and suddenly my body didn't feel so heavy anymore. I felt... light.

"Oh my god!" The first of my words that finally came out clear were those three. The ECG at my side was going off like crazy, beeping and chirping into the darkness, alerting someone – if anyone was even around – that I was quite literally having a panic attack.

"Riv–?!" That muffled voice said. A voice very, very familiar. Someone was here. "River. Riv. Baby–" And there he was. Harry. Directly in my line of sight in the darkness, hovering over me, looking both terrified, elated, and confused. He was clutching a hand over his eye and part of his nose.

I choked out a noise of relief. We both did.

"Harry–!" I reached out for him, only for the cramping in my arm to start acting up at the very same moment that the wires on my chest yanked me back down. "Fuck," I glanced down. And then back up at him. We both froze for a moment. "Fuck, fuck, fuck–" I repeated, and at the very same time, we both reached beneath my shirt to start yanking off the little sticky wires stuck to my skin.