weapons † hs [two]

23. dreams

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i'm back! hope there's no mistakes! missed you all x

The annoying beeps of my heart monitor haul me forcefully from the dull, black nothingness of sedation. As my eyes fight their way open, the deficient, cheap fluorescent lighting greets me, causing my eyes to squint.

A shadow drawn over my blanket-covered body lures my straining eyes left, finding a weary Ryan sat on an uncomfortable wooden chair at my bedside. His blonde curls stick out all over in a mess; his elbows rest on the mattress as he leans and rests his forehead on his folded hands. With furrowed brows and squinted eyes, the man seems like he's praying, something he never, ever did before. The familiar rainbow flag pin on his jacket reflects the poor ceiling lights of this depressing room like a small glint of hope.

"Ryan..." I call in a groggy voice.

The second he hears his name his head turns up, revealing pink, teary eyes that widen at the sight of me awake.

"Caroline, hey," my best friend smiles comfortingly, scoots up, wipes his tears, and takes my lifeless hands, careful of the IV tube.

He studies my demeanor, laughing when he teases harmlessly, "It's so good to see you. Man, you look like shit."

"Well, so do you..." I attempt to sit up, only for him to lay me down.

"No, no, no," his hands press my shoulders down gently. "Calm down, and relax. You've been through hell and back."

Those last words strike a cord in me, and I suddenly burst up from my laying position and open my eyes wide at him, remembering my dilemma.

"I was... I was shot." I grab onto his arm pleadingly with stitched brows, "Where's my baby? W-What happened? Did I lose the baby?"

"Caroline, babe, please," Ryan, taken aback, hushes me with a pained expression as I threaten to bawl.

My chapped lips part, though I stay quiet when he cups my cheeks, quivering before me as he confesses slowly, "I don't know how to say this... You were never pregnant. The doctor ran a test after you were sedated to confirm that for us."

I jerk my head back out of his hands, my chest beginning to heave up and down as I look frantically around the room in disbelief.

"N-No..." I reject, squeezing my eyes shut in an attempt to recall something, anything.

"Yes, sweetie—"

"I was pregnant, I had a bump," bits and pieces of everything come back in small, brief flashes.

A sunny, scenic image comes to mind along with a picnic basket, and a strong essence of the color green, one that changed from light to dark. "I was in a field... having a picnic with.."