The Entire History of You

Chapter Three

There was a stillness in the air as she feels her senses beginning to come to.

A stale scent hits her before the light does, forcing herself to breathe deeper, until the pain of that attempt alone sends a splitting pain throughout her chest— down to her toes, even, splintering out into the rest other body.

She rolls her head to the side, her ear catching the faintest of voices, hushed and low, speaking in such a frantic way that she is unable to deduce what they are saying. It didn't help, either, that her eyes seem to have a permanent glaze over them as she forces them open, giving her trouble focusing on her surroundings as they swim around her.

Sheets are drawn up to her left, a floor to ceiling room separator decorated with greens and blues severs her field of view from whatever lies beyond. She rolls her head to the opposite side, the fabric beneath her neck scratching at her skin and wrinkling at her touch as she tries to flex her fingers against the mattress.

"Athena?"

Something within her snaps, now fully alert to the voice to her other side. Her body stiffens as she tries to roll over, groaning at the pain shooting up her side that prevents her mobility, and she falls back against the bed despite the attempt to push herself up.

"Woah, take it easy. Lie still."

She feels him before she sees him, his hands warm and firm, fingers wrapping around her shoulder in an attempt to keep her from moving before she rolls her head over again. She's met with wild red curls and tired eyes, soft and concerned, sleep still lingering within his gaze that tells her he has been here for quite a while.

"Garreth," she breathes, instantly relaxing further into the bed. He straightens in the chair at her side, reaching a hand up to cup the back of her neck.

"Welcome back." His voice is low and soft, but his hand is softer as the other wraps around her own, giving it a light squeeze.

"Where am I?"

He swallows, eyes softening, the corners of his lips tugging down. "St. Mungo's."

Athena's eyes dart to the curtains behind him, to the hushed voices from the other side. She worries her lip between her teeth, tugging haphazardly.

"How long have I been out?"

Garreth only looks at her like he does not want to say, his fingers twisting into the hair at the back of her neck and gently stroking. "About a week."

"A week?!" She half shouts, the words stuck in the back of her throat as she tries to push herself up out of shock, out of instinct, almost immediately regretting it as the bandages at her side weep against her movements, tearing at her newly healing skin.

But Garreth is there, quick to wrap his hand back over her shoulder and forcing her back down again, gently rubbing a thumb along her collar bone. His eyes swim with emotions she can't quite make out, and there is a weight dipping his brow where she thinks he wants to say something, but settles on something entirely different, instead.

"They had to," he tells her, voice reverent, like it pained him to have to tell her this. It tugs something in her chest, claws up her lungs and holds tight to her breath.

There must be confusion weighing her brow because he sighs, the backs of his fingers traveling up her neck, passed her cheek, sifting back through her hair so that he could push the falling pale strands out of her eyes. "Your injuries were too extensive. They had to place a sleeping charm on you in order for you to properly heal."

Her heart sinks fast and hard, chest cinching, claws grappling at her lungs for air. It feels like fingers have wrapped around her throat as everything begins rushing back— the attack outside of Hogwarts, Sebastian, someone's diffindo cast splinching her mid-apparate— the all too consuming memories beginning to close up all her air ways, refusing to allow her to breathe.