Astray

09 / Mother

The first time Emerson awoke, she was sure she had died and gone to hell.

Everything hurt. She was burning up and freezing at the same time, her muscles ached, and horrible bright lights flashed in front of her shut eyes until her head seemed to split in two, and she passed out again.

When she awoke next, she was still too weak to open her eyes, but her condition had improved some. There was a soft hand upon her forehead, and someone—a woman—speaking indistinguishable comforting words.

"Mom?" Emerson whispered, her voice barely audible, her throat aching from the effort.

"Right here," the woman's voice said, soothingly. As Emerson drifted back into sleep, she felt someone—a rougher hand, certainly not the woman's—take hold of her wrist and attach something to it. It didn't matter though; she was gone again.

Finally, something shifted; her fever broke, and Emerson woke up for real.

Her heavy eyes took a long time to adjust to her surroundings. White light made her wince as she looked around. It seemed to be everywhere. After a few minutes, her eyes began to focus properly, and she realized she was in a hospital. Or, it appeared so at first, but it was unlike any hospital room she'd seen before; there were a few other empty beds and a medical cart near her, and in the far corner, a large quantity of fancy machinery and chemistry equipment. The room was large, almost like a basement. Images of an evil scientist's lair flashed through her mind.

Was she finally free?

The door opened suddenly.

Emerson gasped as she was thrown harshly back into her nightmarish reality, as Felix's mother, Eliza, entered the room.

Instinctively, Emerson made to leave, to run, as her kidnapper's mom approached the bed, but it was no use; her body wasn't listening to her. She was still incredibly weak, and the slightest movement made her head spin. Beyond that, Emerson felt a tugging sensation and realized that her wrists were handcuffed to either side of the hospital bed. Trapped.

"Relax," Eliza said calmly, as she watched Emerson readjust to her reality. "You're okay, dear."

"What... what's happening?" Emerson whimpered, as Eliza reached her and placed a hand on her forehead. She glanced down at herself, taking in the papery gown she was wearing, and became suddenly aware that there was an IV in her arm.

"You got sick," Eliza explained, moving her hand to check Emerson's pulse on her neck. "You had a bad reaction to an old sedative... clearly the boys didn't do their homework properly."

Emerson was still confused. She groaned softly as a wave of dizziness passed through her. "What are you... what's in my arm?"

"Just a saline drip," replied Eliza. She bustled around to the other side of the bed and grabbed a stethoscope from the medical cart. "I just started it, so you'll be right as rain in no time. We didn't know you were allergic to methocarbamol, you see. Well, I'm sure Felix won't forget that ever again, the poor boy was frantic when he saw you. Deep breath for me, please?"

Emerson shivered as Eliza placed the cold metal diaphragm of the stethoscope under the hospital gown. She was trying to process everything she was hearing, but her mind was still cloudy and slow.

"Am I in a hospital?" Emerson asked, looking down at her restrained wrists. "What did Felix give me?"

"Not a hospital, no," Eliza said, smiling, as she replaced the stethoscope onto the cart. "But I am a nurse, so you'll be fine, I promise. Your vitals look great, in fact. We'll get you back upstairs in no time."