Saving U(S)

Chapter Nineteen

Christen stood nervously outside the ER, the cool air from the vents brushing against her ankles. She stared silently through the glass into the room that held her broken girlfriend. 

The tan striker had just finished putting on a Boston Red Socks jersey, blue denim jeans, and a pair of white Nike sneakers when she heard a commotion outside her room. When she had stepped out, she was horrified to see Julie on a stretcher, blood pouring from a wound on her head and cuts on her arms and legs. 

"What's going on?!" Christen had nearly screamed, feeling tears in the corner of her eyes. "What happened to her?!"

No one had answered her. The doors had been closed, shutting her out. 

Christen had slid to the floor, shocked and afraid. She didn't know what was going on. 

"Ms. Press?" a nurse had asked. "Are you alright?" 

The nurse had led her back to her room and sat her down, saying that she'd get Dr. Lewis right away. A few minutes later, the doctor came in, explaining that they had found Julie lying unconscious in a closed off ICU room bleeding from a deep cut on her head, syringe full of morphine in her hand, and empty pill containers surrounding her. He also asked questions like if Julie had said anything about committing suicide or had shown any signs of depression or anxiety. Christen had reluctantly told him about the "episode" with the fireman knife and that she had to tell Julie to stop hurting herself. Dr. Lewis then thanked her and walked out. 

Dr. Tanner, the suicide emergency doctor walked out of the room and turned to Christen. 

"She's in a medically induced coma," he started. "She took a heck of a lot of morphine. We stitched up the gash on her forehead. I'm thinking when she passed out, she probably hit her head on something. We're still looking into that. 

"We believe that she was intending to commit suicide. Right now, we're trying to drain the morphine from her system. Once we do that, we can determine what steps need to be taken next. We've already stitched up the gash on her head, so that's not a problem anymore." 

Christen ran a hand through her long dark hair. 

"So... will she be okay?" 

"There's no way to know for sure. We'll know more later." 

"How much later?" 

"We won't know for sure." 

Christen glared up at him. What a jerk-off, she thought. He's not giving me any straight answers!

"You can go now," Dr. Tanner replied, taking the tan striker's silence as the end of the conversation. "Your friend is waiting for you in the lobby to take you back to your hotel." 

As much as she wanted to cuss him out, Christen got up, said nothing, and made her way to the hospital lobby. Amy was waiting at the front desk, chatting with one of the nurses from the ER. 

"You ready?" she smiled grimly when Christen approached her. 

Christen nodded. "I think so." 

A-Rod held up her car keys. "Let's go." 

---------------------------------------------- 

 Morgan let out a piercing scream as the needle pierced the thin skin on her ankle. 

"GODDAMNIT!" Dawn yelled in frustration. "RAPINOE, HOLD HER STILL! I CAN'T STITCH HER CUTS IF SHE KEEPS MOVING!" 

Teats were forming in Morgan's eyes as pain surged through her body. The strongest pain reliever they had at hand was a bottle of Advil, and the drug still hadn't taken very much effect. 

Kling knelt beside the young girl, holding her hand. 

"You're doing good, Moe," she kept whispering. "You'll be okay. You got this." 

Dawn grabbed Morgan's knee, trying keep the poor girl from kicking her in the face. 

"Servando, please, can you get some more painkillers?! I don't care which ones, just get something to calm her down!" 

"Yes, ma'am." 

Servando pushed the door closed behind him as he exited. No one needed to know there was a law escapee in the little Texan hotel. 

As he headed out to the entrance, he accidentally bumped into a young, dark haired male. 

"What the hell, man?!" the guy yelled. 

"I'm sorry, geez!" Servando apologized. "I just-"

"Watch where you're fucking going!" 

The man flipped him off before turning and jogging towards the hotel. 

Something resting on the ground caught Servando's eye. It was a medium sized leather wallet. 

That ass must've dropped it, he thought, disgustedly. 

Servando looked back to the hotel, but the man was nowhere to be seen. 

I guess it can't hurt to find out who this belongs to..

Servando's eyes widened as he saw the contents of the small carrier. He let it drop to the ground as the realization came to mind. 

"Oh no," he shook his head. He started running back to the hotel. "God, no!"