Our Happy Ending? -Ryan Reeves Sequel Fanfiction

The Next Step

A/N: Brief TW for this chapter-mild mention of mental illness/trauma 

Thanks for your kind comments! They really do help motivate me! x

Maria POV

The next few hours were pretty blurry. There was a lot of scuffling and muttering but I somehow made it to a battered brown sofa, squinting under the bright white light.
A random smiley blonde lady gave me a polystyrene cup filled with some form of unidentifiable liquid but it was warm so I sipped obediently to which she kept refilling it. 

Then she took me to a dimly lit box room with a shower precariously wobbling on one side and a toilet with a seat dangerously close to tipping off after one sitting. 

She handed me a towel and some spare clothes and gestured I shower but insisted on remaining in the room but pulled a severely stained shower curtain across. It was a bit odd standing naked under a dribble of water knowing a random person was on the other side but feeling the warmth rush over me for the first time in ages was exhilarating and I took pleasure in washing my hair thoroughly.

I dried myself carefully and examined the spare clothes dubiously. She hadn't given me underwear so I pulled on the grey tracksuit bottoms and navy hoodie which both smelt musty but clean.

Then she took me back to that battered sofa, refilled my cup and left me to wait patiently for god knows who. She also took my dirty clothes away, presumably to be incinerated. 

I wasn't sure where Ryan was. Once they'd eventually pried us apart, he held my hand the whole way in the back of the car and calmed me sufficiently enough to sit quietly on the sofa waiting for further instruction.

People kept wandering in and out, most weary and looked overworked but few paid me much attention. Just taking note after note. A doctor was called at one point, looking thoroughly exhausted but was nice enough, feeling carefully around my stomach. After a significant amount of time in which an entire lung transplant could've been completed, he announced I was "stressed" and prescribed sleep and paracetamol. He then left back to A&E presumably to explain he'd been pulled away from severe trauma and internal bleeding to treat a tired teenager.

I began to get anxious again, watching the clock tick loudly on the wall, wondering what was happening. Biting on the edge of my cup, I turned towards the door to see Mike finally walk in. He looked exhausted. Like he hadn't slept for days.

"Hey..." I mustered out eventually. It came out croaky and quiet but I had to say something. The silence was unbearable.

"Hey," he answered shortly and wearily but he was smiling. It was a small one, but a smile nonetheless.

He slowly paced over and sank cautiously onto the sofa next to me, looking over at me for permission to which I nodded.

"So..." I started, "What happens now?"

He laughed shortly, "Oh boy," he said, "Well you haven't made it easy that's for sure ! "

"I'm sorry," I replied shortly, probably for the first time ever.

"It's ok," he sighed finally looking at me properly, "As long as you are."

"God knows Mike," I sighed leaning back onto the sofa, "Think I've gone mad recently."

He laughed again, but smiling this time, "Yeah I know kid," he replied, "Me too!"

We laughed together but it slowly subsided and I felt a question roll around my mouth again. I had to spit it out, "So um..." I cleared my throat, "Is Ryan in trouble again?"