Come Hell or High Water - Striker x Reader (18+)

141. Strain

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Author's Note: This chapter contains mild medical gore that may be disturbing or troubling to some readers. Please proceed with caution.

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Later that day, Striker was transferred out of ICU to a stepdown unit—my unit. He and I both got a good chuckle out of the discovery, noting the convenience of his location whenever I returned to work.

"Maybe you can keep me company in this borin'-ass room when you got some downtime," he remarked once he was settled in his new room.

I raised an eyebrow at him and teased, "Downtime? What's that?"

He snickered, his face twitching slightly as he attempted to mask his winces.

The nurse came into the room and administered a dose of pain medicine through Striker's IV, telling him that she would be back in a half hour or so to redress his belly wound. Not long after she left, a light ring emanated from my purse on the nylon couch by the wall, and I dug my phone out of the bag, letting out a small sigh when I checked the caller ID. I tapped the green button on the screen and held the phone to my ear. "Hello?"

"Hi, (Y/N)," said Charlie on the other end. "How is Striker?"

I glanced over at my fiancé making himself (somewhat) comfortable in his new bed, responding, "Better. They moved him out of intensive care this afternoon."

"Oh, that's great to hear," she said, her voice laced with a genuine sense of relief. "(Y/N), I wanted to see if you would be able to come to the Heaven Embassy tomorrow."

I paused, my brows furrowing in confusion. "Why? And—And why me?"

"Well, it has to do with this last Extermination. . ."

My lips parted as I processed her response, and I asked slowly, "Is it about Striker?"

Striker turned his head at the sound of his name, arching an inquisitive eyebrow at me.

"Yeah, it is," Charlie answered confidently. "An Exorcist violated the agreement pardoning hellborn when she stabbed him. I was thinking that—if you were there to give your testimony about what happened, we might be able to gain some favor with Heaven. At the very least, we can get some justice for Striker."

My teeth began to gnaw on my bottom lip, and my gaze drifted down to the linoleum tiles at my feet. I took a long moment to mull over her words in my head, to let them process. Eventually, I looked up at Striker, his bright yellow eyes staring back at me in a mild amalgamation of both curiosity and concern. He looked so tired—but he looked so much better than he did when I first saw him in intensive care. Now I didn't feel an air of dread or worry at the idea of leaving him alone. Taking a deep breath, I said to Charlie over the phone, "Okay. I'll be there."

"Thank you, (Y/N)," she said. "We'll get results tomorrow. I promise."

Charlie and I quickly wrapped up the call before hanging up, and I tossed the phone back into my purse and zipped it closed.

"What was that about?" said Striker.

I pursed my lips, crossing my arms over my chest. "That was Charlie," I explained. "She wants me to meet her at the Heaven Embassy tomorrow."

The confusion grew on Striker's face until his brows were knitted together. "Why?"

"She's wanting me to talk about what happened." I shifted my eyes to the window, watching the sun gradually descend to the horizon. "Heaven violated the pardon over hellborn when Lute tried to kill you. She's hoping this might mean we could gain some favor with the higher-ups up there—and hopefully get some justice for you. . ."