Fear

18 • Recovery

The door creaked open, the sound jarring in the oppressive silence. Dr. Sam Thorne stepped inside, his usual calm demeanour replaced with a look of horror. His smile faltered, then disappeared entirely as his eyes landed on me.

"Oh my God," he screamed, rushing forward. "Emily!"

He knelt beside me, his hands trembling as he assessed my condition. "Backup! I need backup in here!" he shouted, his voice echoing off the walls.

I could see the panic in his eyes, the fear that he might be too late. As he pressed his hands against my wounds, trying to stem the bleeding, I felt my grip on consciousness slipping away. The room began to blur, the edges darkening.

"It's okay, Emily," Sam's voice came through the haze. "You're going to be okay. Stay with me."

But I couldn't. I let go.

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When I started to wake up, my eyes remained closed, the heaviness of sleep still pulling at me. The rhythmic beeping of machines and the sterile scent of antiseptic were the first things I noticed. Voices murmured nearby, their words drifting through the fog in my mind.

"How is she?" Tyler's voice was filled with genuine concern, a stark contrast to the cold, intimidating tone I was used to.

"She's stable," Sam replied. "She's on a blood transfusion as we speak."

"Good," Tyler whispered.

Sam's tone was gentle but probing. "You're falling for her... aren't you?"

There was no immediate reply, just the sound of Tyler shifting uncomfortably.

"I had a feeling you would," Sam continued, his voice calm and knowing.

"I'm scared," Tyler admitted, his voice low and cracking. "I didn't plan for this. She's changing me. I don't like it."

Panic began to creep into his voice, and I could almost see him pacing, his agitation palpable. "Hey, it's okay," Sam said soothingly. "Take deep breaths. Remember what I told you last time? Just breathe."

"I can't!" Tyler shouted, his panic reaching a peak. There was a loud bang as he hit something, the noise reverberating through the room. "I don't want this! I'll have to get rid of her. I can't go through it again, Sam, I can't!"

A long silence followed, heavy and tense. My mind raced with questions.

"I need another Act," Tyler finally said, his voice flat and quiet.

Sam's reply was hesitant. "But... you've already had it for this week."

"I don't care. I need another. Now."

The door clicked shut as Tyler and Sam left, leaving me alone with my thoughts and the faint beeping of the machines. My mind whirled with confusion. Tyler's words echoed in my head, his desperation and panic completely threw me off everything I thought I knew about him.

Even more, he liked me, and he finally admitted it. But he seemed scared of it, as if he was scared of... love...

As I lay there, unable to move or speak, I tried to make sense of what I'd heard. Tyler was falling for me. The idea seemed absurd, given everything he'd done. And yet, there was a sincerity in his voice that I couldn't ignore.

And he had Acts too? And Sam does them to him? And he must have them weekly judging by what Sam said. Tyler was more complex than I thought. I had to know more.

The questions tumbled over one another in my head. I knew I had to get answers. But for now, all I could do was lie there, listening to the beeping machines and the echoes of Tyler's desperation in my mind.

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When I awoke again, I felt stronger, despite the fact my body ached all over - a dull, throbbing pain that seemed to pulse through me. I tried to sit up, but the effort sent a sharp pain through my abdomen, making me gasp and fall back onto the pillow.

As my eyes adjusted to the light, I noticed the IV drip attached to my arm and the monitor above me, tracking my vital signs.

I turned my head as the door opened, and a nurse stepped in. Her face looked kind. She smiled as she approached my bed.

"Good to see you awake, Miss Parker," she said, her voice soothing. "You've been through a lot. How are you feeling?"

I swallowed hard, my throat dry and scratchy. "I... I don't know," I managed to croak out.

She handed me a cup of water with a straw. I drank greedily, the cool liquid soothing my parched throat. As I finished, the nurse took the cup and set it aside.

"You were in a pretty bad shape when they brought you in," she said, checking the machines. "But you're going to be okay now."

I nodded, trying to piece together the fragments of memory. The last thing I remembered was the cold floor of The Slaughter, the feeling of utter hopelessness. Then, the man who found me. Then... Tyler's concern.

"Where's Sam?" I asked, my voice still weak.

The nurse hesitated for a moment before answering. "He was the one who found you. He insisted on taking care of you personally. He's been very concerned."

As if on cue, the door opened again, and Dr. Thorne walked in. His soft brown eyes met mine, and he grinned, a look of relief washing over his features.

"Emily, I'm so glad to see you're awake," he said, pulling up a chair next to my bed. "We've all been worried about you. I'm sorry about... what you went through."

Tears welled up in my eyes as I looked at him. I whispered, my voice trembling. "Thank you for saving me."

Sam reached out and gently squeezed my hand. "You're a fighter, Emily. You survived something horrible, but you're still here. That's what matters."

As he spoke, the events of the past few days began to flood back. The isolation, the voice in my head, the assault... I shuddered, my body tensing at the memory.

He noticed and smiled reassuringly.
"No one can hurt you here."

I nodded, trying to believe his words. But the trauma was still fresh, the wounds too deep to be healed by simple reassurances.
"Rest now," he said, standing up.

As he left the room, I closed my eyes, allowing myself to sink into the comfy bed.

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