Complicated

Chapter 8: Guilt

I could feel myself waking up. My joints were stiff and sore. And I had a wicked headache. But what threw me off was the warm softness that surrounded me. I tried thinking back to what happened.

I remembered Fred and Frypan coming to the slammer and sitting down with a warm mug in my hand. That's all I remember. Now...I feel like a caterpillar in a cocoon. I lay comfortable for a few more moments, my eyes closed.

There was a harsh scraping beside me, it startled me and I flinched with a groan. I heard urgent movement, the shifting of a body and more scraping and a thump. I groaned again. My head hurt, but I tried opening my exhausted eyelids. It took a few tries to open them and have them stay open. I blinked a few times against the bright sunlight. I had no idea where I was, but definitely not in the slammer anymore.

I turned my head in confusion, and frowned even more, even more confused. Gally was sitting in a rickity chair beside me. His intense eyes were watching me, his full lips were pressed tight into a line. I couldn't place the look in his eyes but it wasn't anger...it was almost..worry.

He let out a breath and ran a hand through his blond wavey hair. He looked away and rubbed the back of his neck.

"The shuck is going on?" I asked, surprised how rough my voice sounded.

I slowly pushed my way to sit up. I shivered and wrapped the blanket back around my shoulders. Gally glanced at me and then looked away again, grinding his teeth. He cleared his throat and glanced at me again.

I raised an eyebrow, waiting for an explanation. I quickly looked around again, it was a big open room, a few beds pushed up against a wall, in a row. A big work table in the middle. On the opposite wall was a bunch of open faced shelves, full of medicine bottles, and equu, towels, bedding, toiletries and boxes of too small clothing.

Ahh, it's the Med Hut. Why the shuck am I in the Med Hut?

Gally sat back and crossed his arms and mumbled something.

"What?" I snapped, my eyes flicking back to him.

He growled and rolled his eyes.

"I said...sorry." he spat.

"Did I knock some kindness into you?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

He growled again and narrowed his eyes at me. I didn't move, and I didn't back down. I looked him in the eye and I held his gaze. I waited for him to continue. He didn't.

"What are you sorry for exactly?" I asked.

He shrugged.

"If you don't know what you're saying sorry for, you're not truly sorry. And I don't want to hear it." I snapped.

It was quiet again. And I could feel the tension between us.

"Why am I here and not still in the slammer?" I finally asked.

"We got there early this morning and you wouldn't wake up, your lips were blue and cold as ice. We brought you to Jeff. Said you had hypothermia." He grumbled.

I wasn't sure, but there might have been a slight blush to his cheeks. Or maybe it was the sun that shone through the window.

"It was cold in there." I nodded. It took me a second to realize he said the word we.

"Who's we?" I asked.

"Newt, Minho and me."

I nodded once.  This time the silence between us grew. I sat straight, the blanket wrapped around my still shivering body. I watched Gally closely. He was shifting constantly, and wouldn't look me in the eye. He would glance at me, frown and quickly avert his eyes.