Saved by the King

Thirty Eight*

"She'll sleep it off on the way home. She's fine."

"Aamon, look at her. You could literally set her on fire and she wouldn't even lift her head. This is dangerous ground you're treading."

"I said she'll sleep it off." His words held the thick, irrational anger that I knew all too well. I awaited the blows to come, because that's what always followed this tone of voice. I couldn't bring myself to be scared, though. Scared was too strong of an emotion for me right then.

"You don't scare me, unfortunately for you. She will stay here with me. Five days."

"No!" he yelled. "She's mine! She belongs to me! I decide where she goes, not you."

"This isn't negotiable," Alice said firmly, completely unfazed from his outburst. "Let's remember who's the witch here and who's the angry werewolf. I could kill you, Aamon, and her, and set this car on fire, all without batting an eye. Five days are all I ask."

Her voice disappeared before he could answer, and seconds later the passenger door next to me opened. A pair of fingers snapped in front of my face. "Hey, chicky. I need you to get up. You're coming back inside with me and I sure as hell can't carry you."

I slipped out of consciousness momentarily, but unfortunately regained awareness within seconds. Was she talking to me? She wanted me to stand up? It was all I could do to keep breathing. A pronounced ache had taken over my whole body, and my vision was slippery and shiny, and my head felt like it was on fire. If I could keep my chest moving up and down I would consider that an accomplishment. Not that I exactly felt like breathing anymore.

"Aamon, help me carry her in. And be gentle. Unresponsiveness at this point means she's on the verge of a minor coma."

I slipped into the blackness again, and woke up to being carried up the porch stairs. Aamon was touching me-his arms were around me-Logan held me like this before. "No," I moaned.

Someone was speaking, then someone answered, then we were going up another set of stairs, but all I could do was remember how Logan had held me like this before and I wished that I had let him instead of insisting he didn't have to. I would have better memories, then, something more to hold onto.

Gruff voices again, and I was laid on something soft. Thin blankets were pulled over me. More voices. I understood the words but didn't retain them. The ache grew stronger until I felt like I was on fire, but I welcomed it. Let me die.

Two sets of footsteps growing fainter, then silence. Minutes later, someone returned. I was pulled up into a sitting position, and my head swam.

"Take these. Hey, Carter-" fingers were snapping in front of my face again, "-take these. They'll help you sleep. Come on."

Two blue pills were held against my lips, then water. I swallowed them eagerly, thinking they were poison in my delusional state. Alice laid me back down, and I felt some peace in knowing I wasn't going to have to feel this pain for much longer.

***

The first two days, I slipped in and out of a restless sleep, heedless of the time of day. I was plagued by nightmares filled with dark, evil figures and a disability to distinguish from reality. I wasn't able to form words, but if I was I would have been begging for Alice to kill me.

The third day, I woke up in the morning and stayed awake all day. It wasn't completely awake-more of a haze-but I was at least partially aware of my surroundings. Alice tried to feed me, but I threw up anything she got me to swallow.

The fourth day, I was less hazy and kept down most things I ate. Walking was impossible, less because of my legs and more because I had no motivation to get up. I could form coherent words, too, and actively begged Alice to kill me. Misery thrummed through my body like a heartbeat, and the ache in my body hadn't lessened. I was sure I would always feel like this. The empty space in my mind where Logan used to be was starting to fester and turn black.