Sub Zero

Chapter Fourteen

I slowly begin to wake up, bits and pieces of my mind fitting themselves together in an extravagant puzzle. My eyes slowly begin to open. They immediately begin to burn as a bright light shines into my unfocused pupils.

After using a ridiculous amount of strength to move my fingers, I begin to feel around the surface that I lie on. My hand runs across a waxy sheet of paper and a cool, smooth surface. I must be lying on some type of table. But why, and how, am I still alive?

I've never been afraid of death, or even pain. I mean, it doesn't feel good to get punched in the face, but when you expect it so often, it doesn't seem as bad as it used to. That explains why I'm not afraid to mouth off to my mom. What's the worst that could happen that I'm not prepared for?

I cautiously try to sit up. Surprisingly, I feel no pain. I blink rapidly, my eyes trying to adjust to the bright light.  I'm eventually able to make out a silver table against an immensely bright white wall.

The table is lined with the same paper I lie on, where various  sharp silver tools are organized in a neat row. I shudder as I realize that the tools are most  likely medical instruments, many of which could've been used to treat my injuries.

On the wall to my left is a porcelain sink and a roll of brown paper towels. I almost gag as the powerful scent of rubbing alcohol and bleach invades my nostrils. The ceiling is made of brick, and is so low that I can almost touch it.

I swing my legs over the side of the table, and slowly lower my bare feet to the linoleum floor. I then realize with horror that the only over clothing I have on is a nearly transparent hospital gown. I frantically search around the room with a growing sense of embarrassment. "Where did they put my clothes?" I whisper. My legs wobble as I try to put my full weight on them, but I quickly steady myself against the table.

I finally gather up enough strength to take a step, then another, and another. After looking under the gurney and tearing through the cabinet under the sink, I finally except my cruel fate;  I was going to die, with hardly any clothing on at all. I hear footsteps outside the heavily-bolted metal door. I scurry back onto the table.

I hear muffled voices, then flinch as the door slams open and a figure is pushed in. "Finn!" I gasp. The red-head regains his balance, then picks up a pile of clothing that was dropped during his dramatic entrance. He curses loudly, then glares at the door as it slams shut.

His leg is in a cast and his arm in a sling. I almost cry at the sight of him. He looks so exposed. His clothes are gathered in his arms and he's dressed in an identical hospital gown, but his lack of clothing is t what unsettles me the most; his eyes no longer shine with the hope and laugher he kept working him. And that's what scares me.

He smiles at me, and I'm somewhat relieved. "Here, you might need these." He says, tossing me my jeans and his hoodie. "Your shirt was beyond repair." He mutters, then blushes.

"Oh. Thank you." I respond awkwardly. He stares at me blankly. "Uh, can you like, turn around or something?" I ask then blush a deep Crimson. Curse my pale skin! I inwardly scream. "Oh, right. Sorry." He coughs out. He quickly turns around and rests his head against the door. I have to keep myself from giggling, despite everything.

I quickly slip on the jeans then toss aside the gown, all while keeping a close eye on Finn. I shrug on his hoodie, which has traces of blood on the sleeve. "Okay, I'm done." I say. Finn turns around, then smiles when he sees his baggy hoodie on me. "It suits you." He says.

We both burst into a fit of random, hysterical giggles, not knowing or caring why. After averting my eyes politely, Finn dresses in his jeans and
t-shirt.  I sigh and lean my head against my knee. "You alright?" Finn asks. I nod.
"Yeah, I'm fine."
"Positive?" I nod.

I scoot over and pat the space next to me on the table, the waxy paper crinkling and crumpling up as I do. Finn awkwardly climbs up with a bit of help, and leans his head on the wall with an exhausted sigh.

"Hey, Finn?"
"Mmm?" He hums, tired.
"What happened to us?" An awkward silence follows, but he clears his throat and says, "Indie betrayed us. We were fooled by that little witch." He spits the last word out like venom before continuing. "Right when I could see the exit, that jerk, Torren, cracked our hamster ball with his stupid whip."

"Oh." I say quietly. I already knew that she betrayed us, but it still hurts. "But what about my injuries? Wasn't I gonna die?" I ask, my eyes wide.

He flashed me a surprisingly brilliant smile. "Naw, I couldn't let that happen. I fixed you up before I blacked out. The jerks then dragged us out of that crap hole and stripped us down so they could search out clothes while we were both knocked out.

"Then they put us in those ridiculous dresses and locked me in a room like yours. I guess they were... Considerate, enough to wrap up my wounds."

"Wait, I thought you healed yourself?" I interrupted. He sighs. "Oh, yeah. But, like I said before, all powers have their limits. I have to have a ton of concentration while healing myself."

"Oh. Does it get annoying?" I further question him. He laughs. "Yeah, sometimes."
I smile wryly. "At least they let us be together."
"Yeah."
We sit in silence for awhile, our own fears and thoughts clouding our minds. After some time,  I draw in a shaky breath. "Finn, what's going to happen to us?"

"I don't know." He whispers. I shut my eyes tight, tears threatening to slip out. "I don't want to be stuck in here forever. My mom needs help. She's an alcoholic. I don't know what she'll do without me around to help her." I whisper hoarsely.

My confession takes me by surprise. Although I've tried to hate my mom for what she's done, I've never been able to. At the end of the day, I always miss her. That's why I've never ran away. I love her too much.

The compressed tears begin to spill over my cheeks in a flood of sorrow. "Hey, it's ok." Finn says as he pulls me in close. "I'll get us out of here, I swear it. Even if I die trying!" I nod as I bury my face in his neck.

"Thank you for healing me." I whisper, my voice muffled by my hair and his skin. Finn chuckles. "No problem." And with that, he kisses the top of my head, and I'm lulled to sleep by the beating of his heart.