Breaking Down Walls (a Castle Fanfiction)

The Feelings

I woke to beeping and opened my eyes to a white room, laying on a white bed with white walls. My right arm was wrapped in white bandages. A large section of my upper arm and a smaller section of my lower arm. There were needles in my other arm. IV's. I tried to move and awakened a throbbing pain in my left leg. I realized that it must be covered in bandages too. 

I looked around the room. It was empty except for me and the machines. "Beckett," I said. It was the last thing I remembered so I said it. 

A nurse walked in. She was young, and her scrubs were too large for her small frame. Her blond hair was pulled into a bun and her eyes were happy. "It's nice to see you awake, Miss Smith."

I watched as she checked the machines. When she was finished she asked, "Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable? Would you like a glass of water?"

I didn't realize how thirsty I was until she mentioned it. My mouth was almost completely dry. But that didn't seem to matter. "Beckett," I said again. I just wanted to know who Beckett was, and why she was the first thing on my mind. I tried my hardest to remember, but I couldn't think clearly. My mind was still fuzzy.

"Beckett..." the nurse thought. "Oh yes, the detective. She asked me to call her as soon as you woke up. Would you like that?"

I nodded, so she left. A detective? Why do I know a detective? My mom. I remebered now. My hand found the bandage on my leg. The place where he had stabbed me. I closed my eyes and saw it again. Saw everything again. This time, I felt the pain. He stabbed my mom over and over but instead of it hurting her, I felt each stab in my own chest. I felt the scars on my arm. I felt the blood leak out of me. All over again. While I had lived it before, I felt it now.

I wanted to cry, but I didn't. I'd cried enough tears to last a lifetime. But as I watched this movie play again and again in my head, the back of my eyes burned with tears that wanted escape. I forced myself to open my eyes again. See the light again. I saw my mom fretting about the room. "Look at you," she said. "You're whiter than a sheet. Are you okay, baby? Can I get you anything?"

She stood by my bed and looked down, more concerned than I'd ever seen her. "I'm fine, mom," I said, smiling up at her. "I'm fine now."

"Good, that's good. Don't go dying on me now, baby."

I forced a laugh. For her. My mom would me to be happy. "I won't momma. I promise."

"Good." She reached up to stroke my hair and I almost felt it. Almost. I closed my eyes, thinking maybe if I thought real hard I could feel it. But I couldn't, so I opened my eyes again.

"Stay with me. momma."

She didn't answer right away, but stroked my hand instead. She made little circles on the back of my hand with her thumb, like she used to do when I was little. "I love you. baby girl."

"I love you too, momma."

Then there was a knock at the door, and she dissappeared.

I turned my head. A woman stood in the door way. She was tall and beautiful, with a trench coat on and high heeled boots. "Beckett."

She smiled at me and clicked across the room. "How are you feeling?"

I shrugged, then winced at the pain that sparked up in my arm. She offered me an apologetic smile as she pulled one of the visitor's chairs closer to the bed and sat down.

"Confused," I offered as a verbal answer.

"Well, I'll tell you what. As soon as you've recovered, we'll figure out what's going on, alright?"