From Here On Out

41

It wasn't long before a gurney was bursting through the door of their apartment. Several first responders pushed it through their living room and were led into the bedroom by Daveed.

Emmy's pain levels were progressively getting worse, and her pajama top was drenched with tears. She raised her head only when the commotion came through the door. Her eyebrows furrowed with even more terror as they came up to her barking questions.

"Hello ma'am," she heard from one of them, "We're gonna take you to the hospital." She felt motion surrounding her and she searched frantically for Daveed. Finding his face right next to her brought comfort as she felt herself being lifted by him and another responder.

"Daveed, please don't leave," she begged through the burn of her stomach and sobs coating her throat. He answered with a grip on her hand, one that was rumbled when she began to be pushed out of the room. Incoherent talking occurred above her, talking she wasn't even attempting to understand. Her mind was fully consumed with her baby, and what was making her feel this way.

She felt the outside air on her skin and then became surrounded by four small white walls. Daveed stared above her, and she grabbed his hand again, squeezing it tight. She couldn't tell if it was the same one or not, but a first responder also stood over her face. "Miss, how long have you been in pain?"

"When I woke up," she spoke through a scratchy voice, "3," she added.

"Ok," the first responder nodded, "And it's your stomach? I'm just going to try to pinpoint the location, ok?" as he said this, he started to press lightly on the right side that had been firing all night. She immediately gasped, choking on a breath, screaming from the pain of the pressure.

"I'm so sorry, Miss," he quickly removed his hand, "Is it just that side?"

Emmy shook her head. His touch had only made it worse, and her brain begged for it to stop. With her hand hovering, she motioned to the area on the upper right quadrant of her stomach.

The responder nodded and then turned to Daveed, "Has she had any other complications?"

His distress was still on the rise and he shook his head, his eyes searching for answers in the other man's. "No um- not that I know of." he started to question himself, "She just has normal stuff."

"Ok," the responder nodded, "That gives us a starting point. We're almost there."

The ambulance swung into the bay and the doors were pulled out wide. Emmy felt herself being dragged out by way of the gurney and her hands fluttered in the air looking for Daveed's. It was all too fast for her to grab him and she entered the hospital feeling surrounded by a sea of strangers.

She tried to clear her mind of the bleakness of the hospital, the torturous pain still roaring in her belly, and the added fear of being pushed around not knowing where she was going or who with.

Daveed had been stopped outside then led to the front desk to answer dozens of questions. His mind was anywhere but standing in front of this nurse and he was trying to answer as fast as he could. Once the last question was given a good enough answer he asked, "Do you know where they went?"

"They have to start with testing, so I'm assuming they're getting her an mri," the nurse said, pointing to a direction that was down the hallway.

Before the woman could even finish her thought, Daveed began to rush his way down the hallway. He ran until he saw doors labeled MRI. He juggled the door of the only closed one. "Fuck," he groaned, anger tinting his voice, partially from the door yet largely from the pent up emotion.

He paced outside the doorway. His hands folded up on the back of his head. He tried to regulate his breathing but it was no use when all he could think about was the fact that he wasn't able to get to her before they took her in. He began to imagine the worst possible scenario and if his mind games were truth, he'd never forgive himself.