Derek's POV
Jon came back a few hours later, after Alaric went to find me something to eat. I attempted a protest, but he was convinced Lillian would be just as comforted to see me when she woke up than him. And with my stomach audibly growling, I didn't argue further.
"So how do you and Lillian know each other?" Jon asked, checking the clipboard by the other side of the bed.
"We met at the Foundry, it's a gym in town," I replied quietly. "She came in looking for a sparring partner, and she found me." A smile fluttered over my face for a moment at the memory of when she first came into the gym.
Maybe it was me who found her. Saved her from the irritant that was Tynan. Maybe it wasn't so much that I saved her, but more that she sought me out and saved herself. I could still see the impassioned expression on her face when she demanded I help her. When she insisted I wouldn't have picked up the sparring sticks if I thought she couldn't do it.
"She your girlfriend?"
I paused, eyeing the monitor as it indicated Lil's pulse quicken ever-so-slightly. "Yeah," I replied, knowing the terminology didn't really matter in the grand scheme of things. I cared about her, and wasn't seeing anyone else. Her being my 'girlfriend' sounded a lot better than someone I had a 'thing' with. And sitting in a hospital at four in the morning seemed more important than just a 'thing'.
A sharp intake of breath cut through the air, and my gaze darted to Lillian's face. Her eyebrows knit together, and she sighed, flexing her fingers.
"Lil?"
Her eyes slid open, gaze drowsy as she beheld me, then Jon.
"Hey!" I exclaimed softly, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. "How are you feeling?"
"Like I was stomped on by a horse," she groaned, no trace of humour on her gorgeous face as she lay there. "Still hurts... what did they do when I was out?"
"They had to operate on you and find the source of the bleeding," Jon jumped in, planting by her side of the bed.
"Is that why it feels like I was impaled with an axe?" Lillian weakly gestured to her midriff, where I was sure there was heavy bandaging, and beneath, a fresh incision.
"If there's still a lot of pain, we can increase your morphine drip," Jon responded, pointing to the button that could turn up the concentration of the drug.
"I just want to go home," Lillian said softly, eyes welling with tears again. "I don't want to be here." She glanced at me. "Can you take me home?"
I frowned, looking at Jon. "I think we have to wait for your dad. He should be here soon."
"Is there anything I can get for you?" Jon asked, sympathy reflecting in his irises.
"Can you knock me out until my dad gets here?" she sighed, sinking further into the bed, as if she'd fall through the floor and disappear. "Or go get him."
Jon dipped his head. "I'll see what I can do."
Once he left, Lillian looked at me. "Take me home," she said softly. "Please."
"I can't," I replied sadly, brushing my thumb across the back of her hand. There wasn't much more I could say to her, I knew right then all she could think about was leaving. I wasn't much of a conversationalist, either, especially when I was exhausted as I was.
I racked my brain for anything to say, but all I could hear was that scream and the splintering crunch of bone when those hooves came down. All I could see was the blood spewing out of her mouth, the strangled gasps, the endless tears. Ice skittered down my spine.
Remembering her smile, her laugh, did little to lift the weight from my chest. The weight that crashed into me the way Ophelia's hooves had crushed Lillian. The weight of how close she'd come to death.
The concept of her being happy again seemed strangely foreign as I watched her in the hospital bed, discomfort tainting her features and body language. She was still under the thick blanket of morphine, but it didn't make her any more happy to be there. All the drugs did was sedate her body, her mind was still on one thing: getting out as fast as she could.
I didn't remember the last time I'd been to a real hospital, other than to visit my uncle. With the speed at which my body healed, I had never been given reason to go to one. Neither had the rest of my family, before they burned to death.
I closed my eyes, shutting out the images as Alaric walked in, his white lab coat fanning out behind him.
"How are you feeling?"
"Like shit, dad. I want to go home," she said, her words lacking their usual bite.
"I would like you to stay at least until the morning," Alaric said. "Moving you now is not going to happen."
Lillian's face turned indignant for a breath. "It is the morning."
"I know you don't want to be here," her father replied. "But this is the safest place for you right now. There is no one at home who can take care of you."
"I don't need anyone. You can help me change the dressings on the incision when you come home and I'll just stay in bed until I'm better."
"Lillian," Alaric's voice gained a stern edge. "I want to make sure you're alright. I cannot make exceptions for you because you are my daughter."
"I'm an adult, dad. I can make my own choices."
"Please, Lillian," Alaric said, desperation creeping into his tone. "I want you to stay until we know you are okay. It shouldn't be too long, truly."
"Can you just knock me out until then?" she asked.
"No." Alaric's voice was firm. He wouldn't yield. "You can control how much morphine you get, within reason. Please do not turn it all the way up unless your pain is excruciating. It could make you ill and I know you throwing up with your stomach the way it is will not be pleasant."
He stepped around to the side of the bed I was sitting on, extending a muffin to me. I blinked. Right, he went to get me food.
"Thanks," I managed, unwrapping and sinking my teeth into it, the outside of the baked good like a shell which told me how old it was. I didn't even care.
"I will be back in a few hours, before I go home. I'm sorry this happened, Lillian." He leaned over and kissed the top of her head before making for the door.
"I'll just be here," she called. "Trying not to die."
"You are far less likely to die here than at home." Then he was gone.
For a few minutes, neither of us said anything, but she turned up her dose of morphine.
I couldn't tell if I was glad that Alaric wouldn't let her leave. I knew he was right in wanting her to stay. If anything went wrong, it would be significantly worse than if something happened here. I just couldn't stand seeing her so unhappy.
"Are you okay?" she asked quietly, glancing at me.
"Am I okay?" I scoffed. "I think the real question is 'Are you okay?'"
"We already know how I'm doing," she huffed.
"I'm fine," I said, not quite a lie. I had definitely been significantly less fine before she had woken.
"I'm sorry about all this," she muttered.
"What do you mean?" I scoffed. "Sorry for what? I should be the one that's sorry."
"What for?"
Ophelia's terrified neigh echoed in my ears, the violent rear of her head as she threw Lillian off flashed across my mind. All because of me.
I couldn't tell her the real reason, that Ophelia was scared of me because I was a werewolf. No matter how important she was to me, I couldn't tell her that.
"If I hadn't been there, none of this would have happened."
"It's not your fault," she said. "I don't know why Ophelia is so scared of you, but I'll figure it out. It's fine."
Something chilled in my gut at the innocence of the expression 'I'll figure it out.' She didn't want to figure it out.
"Okay," I said softly, silently urging her to move to a different topic. "You tired?"
"Yeah," she murmured, tilting her head against the pillow to face me better. "I think I'll try to get some more sleep. Looking at you is pretty nice but this fluorescent hospital lighting isn't doing much for you."
I laughed, warmth blooming in place of the ice that had sunk into my gut like claws.
"Plus, I don't know how you'll feel about me staring at you all night." A tiny grin.
"You can stare at me all you like," I murmured, stoking her hand, leaning closer.
"I'd like to," she whispered. "But I wish the backdrop was my bedroom and not a room at the hospital. So I'm going to close my eyes."
I chuckled. "Alright," I breathed, kissing the back of her hand.
She let out a sound that bordered a giggle, breathy and sleepy. "That tickles."
I smiled, noting that her change in attitude was likely a result of the increased morphine.
"Mhm," I hummed, resting my head on the mattress, her hand still in mine. "Goodnight."
The warmth of her hand was as soothing as a blanket, smoothing the trepidation of the night. I fell asleep there, the slow, steady beeps of the monitor gently reverberating in my ears, my bones.
A/N: So Lillian isn't dead. Were any of you worried? I had way too much fun writing these last chapters. I hope everyone had fun reading them.
Cheers,
- TAAF_