The House of Sorrows

Chapter 5: "Touch and go"

"Lockwood, how long has she been in surgery?" George asked.

"Seven hours. They—they won't update us. I don't know why," Lockwood replied, his voice tinged with both annoyance and worry.

"Probably because they have 'better' things to do than update us," George muttered, his mocking tone aimed at the doctors. It was an awkward moment, especially as Lucy's surgeon entered the room to give them an update.

"George!" Holly shot him a look, clearly disapproving of his comment.

The surgeon didn't seem to notice as he addressed Lockwood and George. "It was touch and go for a while. However, she's stable now. She's in the ICU and will need to stay in the hospital for a week. After that, she'll be allowed to go home, but she'll be on strict bed rest."

Lockwood was the first to respond, his head whirling with relief and curiosity, asking almost immediately if they could see her. The surgeon said they could, though the anesthesia hadn't worn off yet, so she would be asleep for a few more hours. Lockwood and George nodded in understanding but decided to venture in anyway.

Lucy lay fast asleep, looking fragile in the hospital bed, her body seeming so small and delicate under the crisp white gown. An IV fed fluids into her arm, and the bloodied gauze peeked out faintly beneath her gown. Lockwood frowned as he looked at her, wanting desperately to sit beside her, to hold her hand and offer comfort, but he feared she was too fragile. Holly sat on the couch in the corner, reading a magazine, most likely working on a crossword puzzle. George, on the other hand, had settled into a chair on the opposite side of Lucy's bed, neither gentle nor particularly quiet as he opened a bag of chips.

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LUCY:

Lucy began to stir at the sound of crinkling, the noise mixed with the soft sound of Lockwood's breathing nearby, and a machine-like whir around her. Her eyelids were heavy, and though her eyes didn't yet open, her fingers twitched, and she tried to speak. All that emerged was a soft, distressed whimper. When her eyes finally opened, the bright lights flooded her senses, and she could make out three sets of scuffling feet rushing to her bedside.

"Oh, Lucy, you're awake! Are you okay? What do you remember? Does it hurt? You were asleep for so long!" George bombarded her with questions, none of which her still-fuzzy mind fully processed.

"Whoa, George. She just woke up. Give her a chance to get her bearings before you play 20 questions," Lockwood said with a smile, looking at her warmly.

And then she remembered. How interesting that Lockwood's smile is what made her remember the events that had happened. That smile. It was the same comforting smile that Lucy had seen earlier, back in the house, when he'd held her and told her everything would be okay.

"Hey," she whispered, attempting to smile back. Her whole body ached, and her voice came out weak and cracked.

Her eyes hadn't fully adjusted, but she could vaguely make out the shapes of Lockwood and George leaning over her. She attempted to sit up, only for Holly to firmly push her back down onto the bed.

"Apparently, I'm on strict bed rest," Lucy murmured, the hint of a smile in her tone. Although she was sure she would be genuinely annoyed within hours of being stuck in a bed.

Lockwood leaned in closer, his voice soft with concern. "Now that you've had a few minutes to wake up, how are you feeling?"

"I'm okay. It hurts, but it could be worse. I could be dead," she replied, though her attempt to lighten the mood didn't have the intended effect.

"You practically were!" George blurted out, his sudden volume startling her.

"What do you mean? I know I was hurt badly, but..." Lucy's voice trailed off, her confusion evident.

"We don't need to get into that right now," Lockwood interjected with a gentle laugh, the kind he used when he didn't want to continue a topic.

But Lucy was curious. "No. George, what do you mean, I 'practically was'?"

George's face grew somber as he explained, "You died, Lucy. Your heart stopped. In the ambulance, Lockwood and I saw it happen. We thought...we thought we'd lost you."

Lucy's eyes widened. Now she understood why Lockwood hadn't wanted to bring it up. She looked at him, seeing the haunted expression on his face as the memory replayed in his mind. Holly's face mirrored that same sadness, her worry evident.

"I'm sorry," Lucy whispered, feeling a pang of guilt for scaring them like that.

Lockwood seemed to shake off the memory, returning his focus to her. "No. You have nothing to be sorry about, Luce. We're just glad you're okay." His eyes held a gleam of something more—something she thought looked a lot like love. But, no, that couldn't be it. She was resigned to forever holding a candle for Lockwood, to loving him while he only saw her as a friend.

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The next few days passed slowly. When the doctors said "no activity," they truly meant it.

Authors note: oh. You think the locklyle angst is over? Just wait...;)