Survived Me: a Shatter Me fan-fiction (Warnette)

Chapter 44 - Aftermath

⚠️TW⚠️
Sick/vomiting
Illness
Being drugged
Mention of torture
Pills
Hospitals
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JULIETTE'S POV:
I don't know what is wrong with me, I feel like absolute shit. I woke up three days ago and I have felt so bad since then, it's awful.
I feel sick, my head is an earthquake and my limbs ache from head to toe. I even look ill, my face is skinnier and there is no colour to my cheeks, I look dead.

So yeah, here I am, sitting in our bed, they let me come back to Aaron's bedroom on base, puking up my guts. Aaron is sitting next to me, holding back my hair, he has rarely left my side. I can tell how worried he is, I am worried too, this isn't normal, I've never felt this type of illness before.

"You alright, love?" Aaron asks me as I wipe my mouth on some tissue and then lay back down.
"I'll be okay, I just have to give it time." I sighed, my throat burning from recent events. "Why don't I feel better yet?" I contradict what I had just said.
"I don't know, Sweetheart. Later we will take you to the medical wing and let them check you over, just to be sure."
"Okay." I let out, soft and frail. The truth is, I'm petrified. I don't understand what is happening nor do I really want to. I just want to feel better, feel like myself again.

"Are you finished vomiting?" His hand is gentle when it cups my face, tracing his thumb up and down my soft, pale cheek. I simply nod as a response, I didn't have the energy to move my mouth.

Aaron picks me up and carries me over to the bed, so warm and comfortable. I snuggle into the covers until I feel the weight of the mattress shift indicating that Aaron is now laying down with me. I move my head to nuzzle into his chest as his arms secure me with safety.

"Are you tired?" He asked. "Hungry? Thirsty?"
I let out a small laugh, "I'm okay, Aaron".
It is so sweet when he gets all protective, it makes me feel like I'm worth so much. "I am really thirsty though, could I have a glass of water?"

He shoots up, wandered to his office, coming back out with a pager. "Delelui is getting you one now, Sweetheart." He tumbles back into the bed, I readjust myself back into the same position I was before, head on his chest. I let myself fall into the comfort of his embrace, the feeling of security, safety. The feeling of being ever so close to the one I love.
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Less than five minutes have passed when a knock sounds from the door. Aaron goes to open it, and, as I expected, it's Delelui. He is holding my glass of water and a strange, small box. Aaron takes both items from him then dismisses the older man.

He walks over to me, hands me the glass of water and lays the box on the bed.

"What's that?" I ask.
He chuckles, "medicine".
Oh, now I feel stupid.

I take two pills and then gulp down the whole grass of water, putting the box, still almost fully soaked with pills, on my bedside-table. I haven't ever taken medicine before, I've never had access. It leaves a strange taste in my mouth, a slight burn down my throat. It is, as a whole, not nice. It makes me want to puke, even more than I already did. My stomach churned and my hand slaps itself over my mouth. A gag leaves past my lips.

I rush to the bathroom, throwing up whatever could possibly be left in my system, Aaron kneeling right beside me, rubbing my back and holding my hair away from my face. This is how we sit for a few minutes, until;

"I'm sorry". I mumble, "I really wish you didn't have to see me like this".
He places a towel in my hand for me to wipe my mouth, I do so. Sighing as I stand and walk over to the sink, rinsing my mouth and using mouthwash and, after, just some water from the tap.

"Love," Aaron's tone full of sympathy and sadness. I don't want him to feel unhappy, feel like 'he could have done something' or 'he could have, somehow, prevented it'.

"Aaron," I walk towards him, wrap my arms around his torso, look up at him. "Stop thinking like that."
He seems taken back by what I say. "What?" I peck his lip, soft and gentle. "Like you could've done something."
He sighed, shifting his gaze from my eyes, focusing on something just behind me. "I could've."
"No," I say, my voice stern. "There was nothing you, or anyone, could have done. What happened was just... horrible."
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Word count: 829

(A/N): (thank you so much for 1.2k reads! That's crazy!)