All Of Me (Camren G!P)

Chapter 12

Lauren's POV

My head is throbbing and my chest hurts like a motherfucker. My throat feels raw, like someone rubbed it with coarse sandpaper for hours. I hear beeps and voices and… Mom? When I take a deep breath the air doesn’t seem fresh but it feels good in my lungs.

I make a noise and then hear the sweet sound of my girl’s voice. What’s Camila doing at the firehouse? Wait, am I at the firehouse? I search my memory, trying to remember the last thing I did.

Camila at the counter, sipping coffee and pouting about my leaving for the next thirty-six hours. Kissing goodbye for almost twenty minutes… Mmm…

“Lauren?” Mom calls my name and I feel my hands being held.

“Babe,” Camila whispers. I can smell her sweet scent as she rubs circles over the top of my hand.

I tell my eyes to open but nothing happens. I try to talk but I’m not sure real words come out so I just squeeze her hand.

I feel her lean over my body so she can press a kiss to my forehead. “I’m here when you’re ready,” she whispers.

Good. I don’t want her to go. I’m not sure where I am or why she’s holding my hand. There’s this big black hole where missing memories have been scrubbed from my recollection. I keep squeezing Camila’s hand so she knows I’m with her.

After a few more minutes of issuing commands to my eyes to get with the program, they finally open a little. The bright, fluorescent light is painful and the pain in my chest and throat hasn’t eased up. Brunette hair and the prettiest brown eyes I’ve ever seen come into focus.

“Hi,” I rasp.

“Hi, gorgeous,” she replies. I can see tears streaming down her face.

“Hi, sweetheart,” Mom says. I turn my head a little. She looks worried but she’s not as shaken as Camila.

“Hi,” I whisper. “Why’s she crying?”

It still hasn’t hit me where I am.

“You gave me a scare,” Camila answers.

“Only thirty-six hours,” I reply. My eyes close because I can’t take the light anymore.

“Babe, do you know where you are?” she asks me.

“Firehouse? I’m dreaming.” I must be. Why else would Mom and Camila be holding my hands while I sleep in an uncomfortable, too small bed?

“Sweetheart, you’re at Bossier Memorial Hospital,” Mom tells me. “You were hurt on a call. You’ve got a nasty concussion and your mask got knocked off somehow so you inhaled a lot of smoke.”

Oh.

Fuck.

Why don’t I remember that? Oh yeah, the head trauma probably cleaned my clock. I definitely don’t remember the fire or what happened in the building. Having to be pulled out is never good. Herveaux must have done it. Pardloe isn’t big enough to haul me out. At least I don’t think he is.

“Lights off,” I croak. Those lights feel like a thousand suns.

Suddenly there’s a click and the light dims. Much better.

“There you go, honey,” Mom says. “I’m going to go get your nurse and I’ll let Herveaux know you’re awake. The boys are out in the waiting area.”

I’d nod but it would hurt.

“Thanks,” I say quietly. I can hear Camila sniffling to the side and I squeeze her hand again. “I’m okay, babe.” I think I am, anyway. I can survive a concussion.