Heartsteel

elin

Hospitals have a terrible habit of smelling like medicine and rubbing alcohol. My nose recoils the second I step through the automated doors. I've spent maybe more than half my life trapped inside hospitals, and somehow I'm still not at all used to the sharp scents that engulf their atmospheres.

There's only one person at the reception counter, an elderly woman with a head full of loose grey stands and baggy, wrinkled brown skin, talking at the guy behind the counter; he had a head full of hair too, think a lion's mane if a lion had black fur.

Begrudgingly, I speed-walk towards them, getting behind the woman before anyone else can, and quietly pray that the woman was just about done talking to the receptionist. Even with two hands, I can't count how many times someone geriatric had been ahead of me in a hospital lineup.

My arms are crossed over chest and my hood's still up while I inspect the first floor, keeping my eyes busy while I wait. There's a smart t.v. Installed on the wall of the general waiting area, and airing from it is some guy with long greying dreads tied back, dark skin that looked so smooth even through the screen, a faint stache that I couldn't tell for sure was connected to his slim beard. The volume's not loud enough for me to hear what he's saying, but it seems pretty important what with all the press and bystanders surrounding him, and all the eyes glued to the screen.

My gaze wanders away and to the head of the reception desk, at the man with the black lion mane. The old woman is still talking to him, staring right up at him, but he's not looking at her while she does. He's staring at me.

The sweat accumulating on my forehead and under my pits runs cold, there's a nervous flutter tickling inside my chest. His expression's neutral, as if he's looking through me instead of at me. Maybe his brain's fried after conversing with the woman for who knows how long. I stare back at him, keeping my face as neutral as his. What the hell is his problem? I wanna look away, but what if he's still looking at me even after I stopped? What if-

"Suzie? That you?"

My eyes jerk away from him and my arms fall away from my chest as I nearly jump out of my skin. Spooked by the most gentle voice known to humanity.

Strawberry-blonde curls sway into view, and some of my mounting vexation and uncomfortableness dissolve with the arrival.

"Forgot you worked on Thursdays," I say quietly. This whole unnerving waste of five minutes could've been avoided if I just went straight to Doctor Fadel's right hand. I know floor Nurse Jarvis typically works on, and the other nurses would've let me wait nearby if she was busy. I'm pretty certain at least ninety percent of the staff here became aware of how close she and I have been during the last month.

"Forgetting about me already? You moved on quicker than I hoped, Suzie." Her toothy smile is infectious, even in a time like this. She reaches her hands up into her locks, collecting them into a neat bunch over her head, and then grips one hand around the clump while her other hand prepares a rainbow hair-tie. I don't wait for her to complete the action before I scuttle towards her and wrap my arms around her waist.

My ear is pressed against her plum-coloured polo scrub (great choice, by the way) so I can hear the chuckle that rumbles from her abdomen.

"You don't have an appointment today," she tells me, and I can hear the confusion staining her sweet voice.

I don't want to give the entire version of why I'm here, in case she thinks I'm losing my mind. But considering all that time we'd spent together the past month — her cheering me up after an operation with ridiculous dance moves, helping me get used to ingesting full sized pills instead of crushing and mixing them in apple sauce— she'd understand, or at least have some sympathy or empathy or whatever the hell the right word is here.

And it makes me wonder...shes been with me an entire month, but she's also been by Doctor Fadel's side too, helping him carry out my treatments, reporting my condition to him. If Fadel did do something to me, wouldn't she know about it? Wouldn't she try to stop him if that was the case?

...wouldn't she?

Hands suddenly join around me, over my shoulders and upper back, reinforcing the hug.

"I would never do anything to hurt you, Suzie," Nurse Jarvis' voice comes, soft...yet foreboding, somehow. "All that time we spent together...You have to believe I wouldn't hurt you."

"W-what?"

She did it again, like that last time on the day I left the hospital like two weeks ago. What exactly did she just do? She...knew what I was thinking?

"You got here just in time to see Doctor Fadel," Nurse Jarvis goes on. She looses her hold around me, and take that opportunity to away from her. I stare at her like I would a stranger, like I would at that Basil girl. "He was going to leave for lunch soon. If you go up to where his office is, you'll likely catch him before he goes."

My eyes stutter, fighting back tears. My heart's on edge, skipping beats as if it's learning to jump rope. And the heaviness is just there, waiting for me to fight back against it. "E-elin..." Nurse Jarvis and I are on a first name basis, but I usually only say her first name when it's just us two.

She steps back too, gesturing with a curly head nod at the set of elevators down the hall, and her toothy smile returning on display. "Go ahead, ask him all you need to."

The smile isn't so infectious this time; all I can do is stare at her, at this woman who I thought I could trust, who I thought was so perfect, so...normal.

How did you do that? W-what...what are you? I ask, in my head, not out loud, but something tells me Nurse Jarvis heard me all the same.

Her smile weakens. "Go, Suzie. Before you miss him."

A few tears actually escape one of my eyes now, the chilliness of it sailing down and under my cheek, and that's the key that snaps me out of it, reminding me of why I came all this way here.

I say nothing more to Nurse Jarvis, and she the same as I start for the elevators. I don't look back at her — I can't. Instead I inhale the scents of medicine and rubbing alcohol.

Suddenly, it's not so bad anymore.