The Bolt from the Blue (Working Title)

Chapter 25- The Hospital

Lucy stood in the doorway, timidly glancing out at the world. John gently pushed past her, carrying Veronica into the living room.

"Will she be alright?" He asked Lucy, tentatively lowering her sister down onto a sofa.

Lucy looked her sister up and down, "She hasn't got any serious injuries, but she's still in a lot of pain."

"Does she need to go to the hospital?" John asked and, ignoring Veronica's feeble 'no', he added, "I'm about to go there anyway."

Lucy looked up in confusion, realised the cause and then looked sheepishly at the floor, muttering "Sam."

John looked Lucy directly in the eye, "Please turn it off." He hoped this would be enough, without tipping off Veronica to what was happening; her eyes were heavily lidded, but not actually shut and he was pretty sure she was listening, no matter how out of it she looked.

"It wasn't meant for him-" Lucy began.

"I don't care." John didn't want to be there anymore; he couldn't believe he'd helped Veronica for the second time in a week. He hated her and he didn't want Veronica to forget that. There was no understanding between them and there never would be; there was no possibility of civility. She needed to know this. As he was walking out of the door, he realised that she had come down to check on them; she had heard Sam's scream and wanted to help. At the thought, he almost turned and thanked her, but he steadfastly kept on walking. They were not friends. She killed Benji. She hurt Sam. She was a terrible person. These were all things he knew.

He exited the flat and walked down the stairs to where the crowd was still gathered, now staring at the hand that was trapped in the portal, flexing and wiggling, trying desperately to escape. The crowd looked up silently at John as he approached and he was just wondering if any of them could speak when one asked "Is she gonna be ok?"

John nodded, "She'll be fine. But you should all leave: I need to let that woman out now, and she's going to be angry."

The same crowdmember asked, "Is she the one who was making that woman scream?"

"Please leave for your own protection: I don't want anyone else to get hurt."

Reluctantly the crowd dispersed, many throwing backward glances, hoping to catch a glimpse of the wasp being released from beneath the upturned glass. When they were all gone, John opened the portal fully and Daria stumbled through. He assumed a defensive position, ducking down slightly, one leg in front of the other, his arms raised up to his eye level. But Daria didn't seem angry anymore. She stood in front of him, completely impassive, staring at some point in the middle distance, "I'd like to go back to the office, please." She requested, extremely matter of fact.

John raised his eyebrows but said nothing, a portal opening beside her. She went to step through the portal but then turned to look back at John, her expression suddenly morose, "This isn't over." And with that, she disappeared through the portal.

John arrived back at the hospital to find out that it had not calmed down at all: he had to fight his way to the front desk, dodging past rushing orderlies and wheeling beds and then waiting for close to an hour before he could find out Sam's room number. Sam was sharing with three other men of varying ages, two of them with broken limbs and one with a large gash across his forehead: John imagined they probably envied Sam's lack of visible injury.

"Hey, Shanks," John said, leaning down to kiss his boyfriend, "they gave you clothes." This was in reference to the green hospital scrubs Sam was wearing.

"It's more than you did," Sam teased, smiling.

"I panicked. Are you feeling okay?"

Sam nodded, "I wish I didn't have to stay in to be honest but it's probably for the best. Did you find whose blocker it was?"