Sparrows Song

Chapter 20

The first fully conscious thought that Blake registered was pain. A sharp, biting pain in his chest that came every time his lungs expanded. Pain first, and then Jane.

He opened his eyes, bringing her form into focus as she sat in a straight backed hospital chair near his bed. She wasn't looking directly at him, but even so he saw that she wore an expression so grave it made her look older than she was, and seeing her look that way was somehow more disturbing to Blake than the unrelenting pain in his chest.

Jane noticed him then, realizing that he was finally awake. She hesitated for a moment, then opened her mouth to speak, but choked up and blinked back tears instead. Silently, she simply took a hold of his hand, that horrible expression not leaving her face.

Now Blake noticed his surroundings, the tubes attached to him and the hospital bed, and the question formed in his mind as to how he had gotten there. But he also registered Jane's hesitation before touching him, and he wasn't sure which concerned him more.

"What happened?" He managed to croak, his voice sounding foreign to his own ears. He tried to sit up, but Jane shook her head and rested her hand on him to keep him from moving. "Shh," she soothed him.

"You were shot," Jane said, her voice cracking. He had never seen her look quite this distraught. The last time she had come close was when she had broken up with him over 4 years ago.

Blake's sluggish brain turned over her answer for a moment, and then he remembered. Andy. Blake had gone there to kill him, but he hadn't done it. And Andy had a gun.

Jane, who was watching him closely, saw the moment of realization come over his face. Their eyes locked for a moment, and the unspoken questions hung in the air between them. Finally, Jane spoke.

"You had this in your pocket when they brought you in," she said frankly, her lips pressed together in a grim line as she held out a knife for Blake to examine. His switchblade. The sight of it made Blake's stomach turn in a way completely unrelated to his current injuries. Jane quickly tucked the knife away in her purse. Blake only stared at her, unable to find the energy to speak, trying his best to fight whatever medication was making him feel as if he couldn't stay awake much longer.

"Why did you go there, Blake?" Jane's agonized whisper was barely audible.

He knew he needed to explain, to say something that would account for the chain of events leading up to this moment, something that would take that look off of Jane's face. Because he knew that somehow she knew. She knew what he had gone there to do.

But he couldn't find the words to tell her, and in that crucial moment he could no longer fight the strong drag of the morphine, pulling him down into unconsciousness. He wasn't sure how long he slept, maybe only a matter of minutes, because when he awoke again Jane was still sitting next to him in the same spot she had been.

Blake was relieved to see that she had not left him during his bout of drowsiness, because the very thought of being without her filled him with cold terror. But he could feel her slipping away, he could tell from her hesitance and the expression on her face. She was going to leave him.

Frantic, Blake began to claw at the tape on his arm holding the IV in place, intent on ripping the needle out of his arm. This was the first thing that needed to go, because they were giving him drugs that made him sleepy and dulled his senses. He hated drugs, and he did not want them. He wanted to feel the pain, because he probably deserved it. And he needed to get out of there.

"Stop! Blake, please," Jane begged him, jumping out of her seat to take hold of his arm and gently but firmly hold him down in place. Blake's stare penetrated her, but he had little strength to fight and so he gave up his struggle. She was the only one that could ever stop him from doing whatever he wanted, and so instead he waited for her to answer all the unsaid questions that circled in his mind.