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...☤...
𝟑 | 𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐚 𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐲
𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓, 𝑆𝐸𝐴𝑇𝑇𝐿𝐸
𝐅𝐞𝐛𝐫𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝟐𝟎𝟎𝟔
The persistent beeping of machines infiltrated my consciousness, pulling me from the depths of sleep. My eyes fluttered open, and I blinked against the harsh fluorescent lights to clear the haze that clouded my vision. Slowly, I turned my head, and the sight of my brother's head resting on my lap came into focus. His hand gripped mine tightly, a lifeline tethering me to reality.
"Derek?" My voice was barely a whisper, raw and scratchy.
He lifted his head, his eyes bloodshot and filled with relief. A breath escaped him, a mixture of exhaustion and hope. "I didn't think you were going to wake up."
I lifted my free hand, instinctively touching my nose. The sensation of a tube and the steady pressure of air flowing into my nostrils startled me. I reached for it, wanting to pull it out, but Derek's hand stopped me.
"Don't," he said firmly, his grip tightening.
Confusion clouded my thoughts as I looked around the sterile hospital room. "What happened?"
"You were shot," Derek replied, leaning back in his chair and running his fingers through his hair. "You're lucky."
"Lucky?" I echoed, trying to comprehend the situation.
He nodded, concern etched deeply into his features. "They didn't know if you would make it off the operating table." He paused, swallowing hard. "I thought I lost you."
The realization hit me like a tidal wave, my eyes widening in fear. "The baby..."
A soft clearing of a throat drew my attention.
I turned to see Addison standing in her blue scrubs at the foot of the bed. She closed the door behind her, her expression a mix of professionalism and empathy.
"...survived," Addison said, her voice steady but gentle.
Relief flooded through me, and I let out a shaky breath. Addison moved to sit on the other side of my bed, and Derek rose from his chair, avoiding Addison's gaze. He leaned down and kissed my forehead.
"I'll check on you later," he murmured, his voice thick with unspoken emotions.
I nodded, watching him leave the room. The door closed softly behind him, leaving me alone with Addison.
I turned to her, frowning at the hurt I saw in her eyes.
"I need to talk to you as your doctor, not your friend, right now," Addison began, her tone serious. She grabbed my hand, her grip firm yet comforting. "There were complications with the surgery. The baby is fine. But..."
