Falling Slowly

Unexpected

Idina's Point of View

My head aches. I struggle to open my eyes. Everything around me is so....sterile. Where the hell am I? I'm hooked up to....some sort of breathing machine? I'm a vocalist! I have perfectly good lungs. What is all this for? I try and draw in a full breath as to prove this dumb machine wrong and the dull ache in my chest burns like fire. Okay. So that's what that's for. Slowly, painfully, I make my way to a sitting position. White bed. White sheets. Hospital gown. I'm in a hopsital. The memories come rushing back to me. I tried to run back inside but he hit me as I turned. The last thing I heard before I passed out was the squealing of tires. A young aide walks in, back to me as she reaches for the gloves in the wall. I let out a weak cough, careful of the pain in my chest. She lets out a squeak as she whirls around to face me. She looks me up and down, convinced her senses are fooling her. Her scrubs flop loosely on her, though they've got to be the smallest size offered. She can't be more than seventeen, but doesn't appear any older than twelve. Finally, she clears her voice to speak.

"Ms. Menzel?" I nod. "Ms. Idina Menzel?" Why is this such a shock? Of course that's me.

"Yes. Idina Kim Menzel. Born May 30th, 1971. Currently in Denver for the first leg of the If/Then Musical national tour." I rattle of my information, somewhat hoarsely, but understandable. She leans out my door to speak to someone.

"Hey, nurse? Um, I'm not quite sure how to put this...I don't think she's going to need post mortem care anymore..." Post mortem care?? I was dead?? Oh my. "That's what I'm trying to say! She's not dead! Come see for yourself!" The nurse comes rushing into the room, just as shocked as the young girl. He stops dead in his tracks at the foot of my bed. Close behind him come Jenn and James. Part of me wants to smile, part of me wants to cry. I was arguing with James right before I got shot.

James's Point of View

She's beautiful. Sure, her hair is sweaty and stuck to her forehead. Her torso is wrapped in white gauze. The one size fits all hospital gown makes her look even tinier. Traces of blood remain on various places on her body. But she's alive. And that's all that matters right now.

"Idina—" I barely get her name out before she raises her hand to stop me.

"No. I'm sorry, James. I shouldn't have shouted at you. You were trying to take care of me." I can sense there's a butt coming. "But, I don't regret what I said. I just should have kept my emotions in check and said it differently." Before I have a chance to say anything in response, the doctor walks in.

"Ms. Menzel, or shall I call you, Lazarus?" They both let out a chuckle as Jenn and I glare at him. "Plain and honest truth? We don't have an explanation for what happened. By all logical standards, you should be dead. You lost too much blood. Your body is already taxed and underweight, which would decrease your chance of survival. But here you are. We're going to keep you on an IV to replenish the blood you lost, but we'll start weaning you off of the oxygen here shortly. You're going to be in the hospital for at least a few days. We want to make sure your wound continues to heal nicely and try to get your weight up a bit. Any questions?" She shakes her head, soft curls flopping from side to side.

"No, doctor. Thank you very much." Her pale lips curl into a soft smile and the grandfatherly doctor smiles in return.

"No, dear. Thank you for proving us wrong. Also, that little aide that walked in to take care of you?" Idina nods in response, one side of her mouth quirking up in a smile. "She and I have been trying to out practical joke each other. I think you just won for me. Can't beat that." He turns and walks out of the room, chuckling to himself.

"No, I don't think she can beat someone coming back to life, but that wasn't entirely his doing." She shakes her head in amusement. "I'm ready to get out of here."

"Idina. you can't. You were just dead for heaven's sake! You need to rest." She tries to hide her wince as she turns her head all the way to look at me, but I notice it.

"That's it. I'm not dead anymore. I'm alive and kicking. And as soon as the blood is done, I want to go home." She pauses as she remembers we're not in New York. "Well, back to my apartment at least. I'll rest there and be back to the show by next week." My jaw drops at such a notion.

"Next week?! Idina, that's crazy! It's not healthy! It's not safe!" The glare I get in return could wither the hardiest of plants. She's going to do this whether you like it or not, Snyder. Better get over yourself. I sigh. She's got a will as strong as iron. Trying to go against her is like beating your head against a brick wall, something I've been very tempted to do more times than I can count since Idina came back into my life.