desertion

72

EDDIE

The hospital was quiet, the air heavy with the sterile scent of disinfectant as we followed one of the paramedics through the sliding glass doors. Lydia had still been asleep on the stretcher when she was wheeled back, her pale face unnaturally still. Every step felt like I was dragging a weight behind me as we followed the paramedic leading us to her room.

Miles walked silently beside me, his hands shoved into his jacket pockets, his head low. Buck was on my other side, his usually easy demeanor replaced with a quiet, focused energy.

We were led straight to her room. The same doctor who had treated Lydia during her last hospital stay stepped out to greet us. His face was calm but carried a weight of concern as he looked at me.

"What happened?" He asked, clipboard in hand.

I swallowed hard, trying to keep my voice steady. "Her temperature was low—96 degrees. She started zoning out, like she wasn't even there. She didn't move or respond, or anything."

The doctor nodded, his expression thoughtful. "We'll figure it out," he said with quiet confidence. He gestured for us to follow him, leading us into Lydia's room.

When he reached for the door knob, he hesitated. "Normally, it's two visitors at a time," he said, then glanced at us, something softening in his expression. "But you can all go in for now. I can see how important this girl is to you three."

Miles let out a breath of relief as we stepped inside. Lydia lay on the hospital bed, still and pale, hooked up to monitors. The steady beeping of the heart monitor was both a comfort and a reminder of how fragile she was.

Savannah, the paramedic, was still there, talking quietly with the nurse who was adjusting Lydia's IV. I moved closer, my eyes flicking to the IV bag.

"What are you putting into her IV?" I asked, my voice sharper than I intended.

The nurse looked up at me, calm and unbothered. "A sedative."

Buck stepped forward, his eyebrows furrowing. "Why in the hell would she need another sedative? She's out!"

Savannah turned toward us, folding her arms across her chest. "While you were waiting in the waiting room for those 10 minutes while we were getting her into a room, Lydia woke up. She started fighting us again. She was upset, asking for someone named Shannon. I'm guessing that's her mother since she called her mom."

My stomach dropped at the mention of Shannon. Beside me, Buck's mouth fell open in shock. "She hit your partner?" Clearly, I had zoned out and missed some of the conversation.

Savannah nodded, her expression calm despite the situation. "Hard. But it's not the worst thing Parker's been through, trust me." She offered a wry smile, but it faded quickly. "Maybe you could call her mom? She was really upset about it."

Buck cleared his throat, glancing at me before saying softly, "Her mom passed away."

Savannah's eyes widened, her face falling. "I'm so sorry for your loss."

I nodded stiffly, unable to find the words to respond.

Savannah continued, her voice gentle. "The sedative we gave her in the ambulance has side effects. Confusion is one of them. That might be why she was calling for her mom."

Miles, who had been quiet until now, finally spoke, his voice breaking. "What made her so frustrated again?"

Savannah's expression softened as she turned to him. "She didn't know where she was. She was really confused when we told her she was in the hospital. That's when she went into her episode. It's understandable. The sedative mixed with her postictal phase most likely caused her aggression."

The nurse finished adjusting the monitors and turned to me and Buck. "She should wake up within the hour," she said, giving us a small, reassuring smile. Then she left the room.

Savannah nodded toward the door. "I should get back to Parker and the ambulance," she said. The doctor thanked her, and she gave us a final glance before leaving the room.

The doctor turned to us. "I'll leave you three here for now. Let me know as soon as she wakes up." With that, he left, and the room fell into a heavy silence.

Miles sat down on the small couch in the corner, his elbows on his knees and his hands clasped tightly. Buck took the chair beside the bed, leaning forward with his hands under his chin. I sat in the other chair, my eyes glued to Lydia.

She looked so small, so fragile. Her breathing was even, but her pale complexion and the faint twitching of her hands reminded me of how much she's been through.

Miles broke the silence, his voice barely above a whisper. "How are we going to keep her from fighting when she wakes up?"

I shook my head, my gaze never leaving Lydia. "She won't fight us," I said quietly. "She just needs a familiar face. Being around people she didn't recognize probably made it worse."

Miles nodded, but his face was still tight with worry.

The room grew quiet again, the only sound the steady beeping of the monitors. The three of us sat there, watching over Lydia like guard dogs basically, ready to protect her from anything—even from herself.