Coming Back to You ✔

53. September

Time was a funny thing. One minute, Sophia was lying in a hospital bed, barely able to move, barely able to even believe she was alive, and the next, she was being discharged, clear to head back into the world.

Well, almost clear. Her doctors, Blake, half the rest of the hospital, and Dean all made it very clear that she was to take things slowly. Very slowly. She wasn't even cleared to go on a plane back to California for another two weeks.

So after two weeks in the hospital, she was trading in Mt. Sinai for the Four Seasons Hotel. Yeah. Apparently, the F.B.I. was very regretful over what happened to her and figured the least they could do was set her and Dean up in a fancy hotel. Taxpayer dollars at work.

Once she had been cleared for more visitors, Sophia had never been short of company. Carmen and Blake dropped by every day, giving her hospital gossip and providing Dean time to take short breaks. He would never admit it, but Sophia knew he appreciated being able to go and stretch his legs a little bit. He wasn't used to sitting still for so long.

Ronnie dropped by often, as well. Sophia wasn't sure how much her old boss knew, but the supervisor at least had been informed of Sophia's medical background, and apparently had been informed that Sophia had saved her life. It made for an awkward first meeting, but after Sophia insisted Ronnie had nothing to thank her for, Ronnie was a steady presence in the chaos of the hospital.

Dean had remained his ever-vigilant and attentive self. He worked with her team to figure out what she could eat, getting more and more inventive with his shopping trips so that, even with her limited diet, she always had something interesting to try. And he still remained quiet on what, exactly, his thoughts were about them. As Sophia grew stronger and stronger, and therefore able to focus on things other than her own problems, it became more frustrating and frustrating.

But the conversation never happened, and the next thing she knew, Dean was helping her into a wheelchair, ready to be wheeled out. Instead of scrubs, she wore a plain t-shirt and shorts from her own wardrobe, her hair braided practically in two pigtails behind her head. That had been Carmen's doing; thank God for her coworker's hair talents, if Carmen hadn't helped out, Sophia would have one giant mat on her head.

"Let me know how everything goes." Blake wrapped his arms around Sophia one last time and whispered in her ear. He stood up. "And take it easy. And make sure to come and visit if you're ever in New York again."

"I will." Sophia squeezed his hand. "Thanks for everything, really."

Sophia said her goodbyes to her other hospital friends, Dean patiently wheeling her across the hospital so she could hunt people down. But then there was no reason to stay, so she and Dean made their way to the black car waiting outside to take them to the bottom of Manhattan.

If Sophia had to, she would put money on the driver being a Fed, but other than giving them a brief nod, the man said nothing, only pulled away from the curb and began his battle against New York City traffic.

Sophia leaned against the window, watching the Upper West Side slowly go past. She could Dean in the reflection, his head frequently turning in her direction to check up on her.

He was worried. That was obvious. At first, it was over her actual survival, but once it became that she was healing quite well physically and the risk for complications decreased, it was her mental state that plagued him.

It worried her, too. The entire ordeal had been almost too horrible for words. But Sophia had been...fine. It made her sick to think about, yeah, and she hated that it happened, but in terms of lasting effects, so far, she hadn't seen any.