killer, gbd (EDITING)

11

"What did you find?" The voice sounds of a distant call, but even from its distance, I can hear the concern.

"The tox-screens are showing large amounts of GHB," I hear more words, but can't seem to make it out. But seeing that I am slowly regaining my senses, I don't believe that it could be truly serious.

"What can I do?" The voices sound closer, I recognize the deeper one, but it takes me a moment to realize who it is.

"Just sit with her, Grayson. She's going to be waking up in a strange place, it would be good for her to see a familiar face." A woman says, this one I do not have any remembrance of.

"Thank you, Susan. I don't know what I would have done without you," Footsteps lead to the door, and for a moment I believe that I am alone. But warmth envelopes my hand, and I know that Grayson had stayed.

"Grayson," I try to say, but the dryness of my throat makes the word scratchy.

"Hey," He says, rubbing the back of my hand. "I'm right here."

I try to open my eyes, but they flutter at the light coming in through the blinds. The world spins in front of me and I look around for a trash bin. Noticing my distress, Grayson holds up a bucket for me. I take it and hold my head over the opening.

No longer holding my hand, Grayson used both of his hands to scoop my hair into a ponytail. Just in time for my stomach to eject the contents of my stomach. "Shit," I say, hating feeling this way. "You shouldn't have to see this, I can take care of myself." Asking him to stay would be cruel.

"No," Grayson's voice is soft. "Don't be silly. I'm here for you." He says brushing my baby hairs from my face.

"I'm sorry," I say, pulling myself upright. Grayson let's my hair fall to my shoulders and grabs me a tissue.

"You have no reason to be apologizing," He shakes his head, his face riddled with worry and sympathy. I stare at him for a moment, waiting for the spinning to stop. "You alright?" He asks, his finger traces a path from my temple to behind my ear.

I nod and push the back of my hand to my forehead. "What happened?" I ask. Grayson catches my resting hand in his, his thumb drawing slow circles on my skin.

"You're sick, but you're in the right place. Everything is going to be okay." Grayson says his eyes examining my face.

"Where the data?" I ask, trying my best to focus and not get hazy.

"It's in a safe downstairs," He says, offering me a smile.

"Good," I let back down, settling into the pillows behind my head and shoulders. I knew he would hold up on his end, but I can't really do much when I'm unconscious.

"How long have I been out?" I ask him. My eyes drift to my chest and I see a t-shirt, not my red dress. Instead of darkness, light shines in through the window.

"Almost 12 hours now, and Susan dressed you when she was caring for you," He nods, my brows raise. I shift in my spot and sigh.

"I wasn't worried," I pat his hand and smile at him. Fully conscious now, I look at him and for the first time feel like I'm truly seeing him. All of his walls lowered, his hand in mine, his eyes warm and soft.

"Thank you, Grayson." I say, squeezing his hand. He looks back down at me, bare of his smirk or any tease.

Instead of speaking his hand goes to the side of my face, gently cupping my cheek and jaw. I band a hand around his wrist, welcoming his contact. He leans into me and places a kiss on my head.