Daemonum

Chapter FOUR

It's hard to hear much over the chatter of the hospital staff crowding the room. I barely make it two steps inside the door before I'm forced to stop behind a nurse in powder blue scrubs peering over the shoulders of her peers. Different equipment at the head of the bed is beeping and clicking, their usual rhythms disrupted in the face of the chaos invading the room. For a moment, I feel panicked; this quiet temple has been disrupted, and I debate on whether or not fleeing in the face of it all is my best option.

Then, from beyond the throng, I hear him.

I can't make out what he's saying, but I would know that voice anywhere. It sounds different then it had before, clearer now that there's no rain to muffle him. He's talking with someone, the two of them exchanging words in low tones, and before I'm aware of my actions I'm forcing my way through the wall of the crowd and into the inner circle. I can feel their gazes on me and a hush seems to fall over everyone as I lay eyes on him for the first time.

Seeing him awake isn't as odd as I had thought it might be.

He's leaning back against the pillows, wide eyes examining the faces around him. His thin fingers are gripping the railings on either side of the bed so hard that his knuckles have turned white and he's kicked the blankets off onto the floor. His chest is rising and falling too fast, his eyes fluttering from face to face and every gap in between them; it reminds me of a tiger in a zoo, pacing the glass as he looks for an escape. He finishes analyzing his surroundings, and his eyes settle on me after a moment and I realize that he's examining me almost as thoroughly as I am him.

We don't make eye contact.

There's a sudden upset in the crowd at my back and I turn to look just as Dr. Hernandez shoves his way through the crowd. He's dressed in jeans and a loose t-shirt as opposed to his usual scrubs and he looks like he might have just rolled out of bed. His face is a mask of mild irritation as he reaches my side, touching my elbow gently before glancing at the crowd around us.

"Give us the room."

It isn't a request.

It takes a minute, but the small collection of hospital staff trickles out and I feel like I can finally breathe again. Dr. Hernandez waits until the last person has filed out to close the door, drawing the curtains as well before he speaks.

"Emma," He greets me with his usual smile despite the somber tone of his voice, "You look terrible. What happened?"

"Shouldn't you be examining him?" I brush off his concern and I can feel our previously comatose friend's eyes on me.

"I thought he might like a moment to acclimate," Dr. Hernandez chuckles, but he moves towards the bed regardless. "Besides, if something were drastically wrong we would have known by now. Half the hospital was in here,"

I make my way to my usual place in the plastic chair beside the bed. My entire body is aching and I can feel exhaustion settling over me like a thick fog as I watch Dr. Hernandez check on the man in the bed. He hasn't said anything in awhile, but he's watching me like a Hawk; I can feel his eyes tracing over me, touching on the bandages and bruises, his brow furrowing deeper and deeper with each passing second.

"Now that we have the initial checks out of the way," Dr. Hernandez has his back to me. "Would you like to enlighten me on what happened to you, Emma?"

"There was a break-in at my apartment," I'm doing my best to avoid picking at the bandages on my arm as I speak. Dr. Hernandez makes a concerned sound, but I'm watching my snowy haired John Doe. He seems a bit taken aback by the news of the break-in, and I think that if his brow furrowed anymore it might be permanently stuck that way.