The White Wolf

XXXIII

Time passes slowly.

"Time passes slowly when a loved one is gone, and it's expected you'll grieve for a while and then move on. And it pains me to tell you that weeks turn to years, but the passing of time doesn't lessen your tears. I know how it hurts- I know better than most that you never move on, you just live with their ghost. That the teardrops still fall and your cheeks are still drenched. As the lines on your face become deeply entrenched. Because though time passes slowly and each day seems to crawl, in your heart, it is always like no time's passed at all."

- Ranata Suzuki

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White light crept in through her lids as the drowsiness wore away and she began to wake. Her body felt weak- drained- like her muscles were ready to give out after a long, hard, run. Except she was laying down, holding still. She felt like a lump of stone at the same time that she felt like she was floating in saltwater. It was an odd sensation- but not unfamiliar. Hangover. The lights of the room only made her dizzy, her head pounding like there was someone inside, clawing to escape her skull. Ava let out a small groan as she attempted to take in her surroundings.

A stiff mattress held her up, a white sheet between it and her. A thin, white blanket covered her body up to her waistline, draping over the edges of the bed at her sides. She peered down at herself, frowning at the thin, blue, dotted with white speckles hospital gown that tied back around her shoulders, hardly keeping her figure concealed beneath it. It might as well have been tissue covering her. 

"Someone's finally waking up."

Ava turned her head to the left, spotting a woman in the chair beside the bed. Her hair was short and platinum blonde, less than an inch of hot-rod red roots peeking out from her scalp. Natasha. She had one leg crossed over the other, a tan file-folder resting on her lap. Her eyes were intense, moving left to right as she read through the information in it. Ava swallowed, scanning the room around her. Light grey walls, a tile ceiling with bright white lights, a curtain hanging near the door. Medical equipment sat beside the bed at her right, and her eyes traced the wires that connected to pads stuck on her chest. A needle was taped into her forearm, the tube connected to it ran its way up to an I.V. bag hanging beside the bed. It was a hospital room. 

A frown tugged at her lips and she turned her head toward Natasha again, her brows pulling together. "Why am I here?"

Natasha kept her eyes on the file she was reading, her lips pressing tightly together as she exhaled out of her nose. "I'm not surprised you don't remember." She said, looking up at Ava for a second before she looked back down at what she was reading. It was long enough of a second for Ava to see the dark bags beneath her eyes. "You couldn't even stand up last night, you were so drunk. You started having seizures- you're lucky Steve found you outside that bar when he did. You could have died, Ava."

Natasha's words were soft, sullen- and normally they would scare her, but, no. Not this time. See, Ava didn't want to die- but living alone with all of this pain that ached through her body... maybe it would have been a relief. Ava swallowed, her mouth feeling dry like she'd sucked on sandpaper. "I didn't know you and Steve were looking for me."

"You went missing, Ava. After a week of drinking all of the liquor you could find in the compound- and I cut you off- of course, we went searching when we couldn't find you there anymore. I should have known you would have run off to the nearest bar to drink yourself to death."

"I didn't mean to go that far." She said quietly. It was a bad coping technique she had- flying off the handle when she felt scared and alone. She lost control again. Like that night that Bomani took advantage of her.