The Ghost and the Phoenix

Part Sixteen

Several hours later, Simon watched Mel's sleeping form, soft beeps coming from the machines she was hooked up to. Jackson had left a few moments ago, offering the seat to Simon. He'd almost refused but changed his mind and sat down.

One of the nurses greeted Wagner, who was stationed outside her door as she came into the room.

'What a day.' she said quietly as she bustled around, checking the numerous lines. Simon watched her slide a blood-pressure cuff around Mel's arm before pressing a button on the monitor, a soft whirr filled the silence as it inflated.

Simon could feel eyes on him, and when he looked up, he caught the nurse staring. She gave him a small reassuring smile.

'She's going to be okay.' she told him. 'They only sedated her has a precaution.'

At the mention of her name, Mel's hand twitched, her head moving slightly. Her eyebrows drew together, like she was in pain as a solitary tear slid from the corner of her eye. Her lips moved and a name, softly mumbled, slipped out.

'Simon.'

He froze, eyes wide as his brain registered what she said. He waited for her eyes to flick open but they remained shut, a peaceful expression returning to her face. He looked up at the nurse, who was making notes in her chart.

'She's said that a couple of times now. Must be the poor soldier that was killed.' the nurse sighed. 'She was pretty upset about him.'

Simon nodded, letting her believe that it was Corporal Martin's name she'd said, not his. It was safer that way.

Excusing himself, Simon left the room, suddenly feeling like he was suffocating. He strode down the hallways until he reached the sanctity of his room. Ripping off his balaclava, he tossed it on the bed before walking to the bathroom sink.

His hands shook as he turned on the tap, holding them under the running water before splashing his face with the cool liquid. He did this a few times before placing his hands either side of the basin, looking at himself in the mirror.

Even unconscious he was causing her pain. He'd never hated himself more in that moment. The face that stared back filled him with rage and he slammed his fist into the mirror.

The glass shattered on impact, showering the basin and floor with tiny shards, leaving only the black backing in place. Simon gripped the edge of the basin again, not feeling the glass slicing into his skin, or the blood trickle down from his wounded knuckles.

She deserved better, he'd known that from the beginning. The right thing to do was to let her go, but the thought of not seeing her smile, the cheeky glint in her eye, or hearing her whisper his name in the darkness again, crushed him.

She had been real and honest. Mel unknowingly found a crack in his hardened exterior, managing to break through, leaving an opening he didn't want to close. She'd made him feel whole, yet he had fallen at the first hurdle by not trusting her.

All he could do now was try and make it up to her. Whether she forgave him or not, he promised he would atone for hurting her. If it had to be from a distance, then it would be a fitting punishment, and he would suffer in silence.

......

Mel was released from the infirmary the next day, placed on light duties. Due to the threat, she wasn't permitted to leave the base, so over the next few days, spent much of the time in her room, her ever present guard at the door.

One morning in the mess hall, after the main surge of soldiers had eaten, Simon and Soap were finishing off their breakfast.

'So, you haven't spoken to her yet?' Soap asked, popping the last of his toast in his mouth.