Ion Heart

Epilogue

Beep... Beep... Beep...

The blip of a machine rings through my ears; continuous and steady. My eyes flicker open to the clinical taste of white light. I search for answers amongst the blank canvas.

He forces me into a wall and traps me with the weight of his body. 

His hands slide up and begin to cup...

Darkened flashes of forgotten images appear one by one. Words bridge the gaps between tastes and smells, salt and metal. I quickly realise I was saved by forgetting before. 

My white hands with their blackened veins grip the rusty bar. 

It would only take one step. 

I'm acutely aware of the throbbing ache in my head, one that could only be described as the worst hangover and, even then, that doesn't do justice to its dizzying and sluggish control. The real power is the pain in my stomach: dull, yet prominent and continually stabbing at my thoughts. 

The knife rips into my stomach. 

Black blood oozes between my fingers. 

I glance down, my eyes the only thing allowed to move in this new, surreal world. A clear tube stems from my wrist, feeding into my veins. It bites into the flesh. Part of me wishes to rip the fang out, the other knows it has to stay.

"Wake up, keep your eyes open! Katherine!"

"Spiderman?"

A cool stiffness runs down from my neck to my toes. I try to lift up my head but it remains firmly planted on the cushion. My arms remain glued to the mattress.   

"Sparky? Are you coming?"

"I'll be right behind you."

My eyes wake up with a proper start, the machine begins to panic. I can feel everything: the light hitting the curtains, the sharp smell of disinfectant, the throb in my head, the stabbing in my stomach, the tightening of my chest. It takes a while for my mind to focus, to de-pixelate the image, to recognise the medical lab, to know that I am safe, and to see the person sleeping next to me. 

'Dad?' 

The word comes out croaky and hoarse, nearly too quiet to hear. He looks up with a jolt and I can now clearly see the blue rings under his reddened eyes, tears that have stained unshaved cheeks. And the bruise that forms over his heart. 

'Oh Katy.' He sighs in relief, wiping the sleep from his eyes and sitting up. 

'I'm sorry.' I wheeze. 'I'm-

'Shhh, don't try to talk.' He whispers softly, stroking the stray hairs from my eyes. 'You've been out for three days, coded twice. Your body is still very weak, you need to rest.'

Each letter is difficult to articulate and I have to concentrate hard.  'Sp... sp... Spiderman...' 

'I know, I know.' He says calmingly. But he starts to choke on his words. 'You were nearly... dead when he showed up.' The tears start to trickle down his face. 'There was blood everywhere... I... I... didn't...'

I slowly move my fingers and wrap them around his. It says the words I want to say. I'm sorry. 

I will tell him everything, about the the party and the bridge and everything leading up to that moment. But for now all I can do is stare, head fuzzy, eyes watering, and hold his hand. 

Dad sniffs loudly. I've never seen him like this. 'I was so worried about you. We were all so worried about you.' 

'When did you... did you notice that I had... had...'

'Not for a long time. SUNDAY made sure of that.' He laughs pathetically. 

I try to smile. 'I did... learn from the... the best.' 

We both share a small laugh but it soon dies out, replaced by silence and finally another sigh. 

'You know the most scared I have ever been?' He says, tears brimming in his eyes. 'Not Afghanistan, not New York, but seeing you on the doorstep cold, bleeding and on the brink of death. I thought... I thought I had lost you.'  

I can feel the lump forming in my throat. 

'I don't know what I would have done if I... if I-'

'I'm right here dad.' I croak, squeezing his hands. 'I promise, I'm not going anywhere.'

He looks at me, tears streaming down his face, but he quickly wipes them away. 

I see it all. The fear and the anger. The disappointment and the regret.

I know he will want to shout and scream, to tear his hair apart trying to find answers to the unanswerable questions. But for now, exhaustion has won. So he squeezes my hand, kisses my cheek and says he's going to tell the others I'm awake. 

I lie there, in the taste of white light, wishing things could have been different. Wishing I could go back and change it all. 

But I can't. 

I can only move forward. Little by little, day by day. 

And it will take time, it won't be easy, but it will get better. 

For now, all I can do is lie and wait. 

I feel it all. The good, the bad, the pain, the sadness, the smiles, the tears, the happiness, the heartbreak.

I smile at the runs in the park, the stolen cars and returning friends. 

I laugh at the smiling, silver moon that teases the purple light. 

I frown at the mischievousness of a green friend. 

I whisper a thank you to the hero in red and blue. 

I remember the love that I have found in my family,

And I finally allow the tears in my eyes

to 

fall.