The Psychic That Had A Brother

Waiting

Juliet’s POV:

The hospital says no visitors until the next day. So I go home and take a shower, I notice that I have blood on my fingers. I scrub it off. I finally get out of the shower. The house feels so empty without Shawn. On a regular day, he’d be bouncing around talking about movies and shows, so fast that he quickly loses me. But now the house is silent. I can’t handle it, I turn  on the t.v., I need some kind of noise. I sit on the couch and try to wrap my head around the events. But now it’s all over, Shawn will be okay, he alive, that’s what matters. I’m so glad he’s okay. Eventually, this will be all behind us, I can’t wait for that day to come. I turn the t.v. off and go to bed. The bed feels empty. A tear escapes my eye, I’m not even sure why. I quickly fall asleep.

When I wake up, it’s nearly eleven. No one has called me or texted me, so nothing must have happened. I go ahead and eat lunch. At noon I finally go to the hospital to see Shawn. He’s still asleep. So I go to the station and write my report. I bump into Carlton.

“What are you doing here?” he asks me.

“Nice to see you too. I was just writing my report,” I answer.

“Shawn okay?” he asks, trying to act like he doesn’t care.

“You didn’t really like him so,” I start to turn around.

“Didn’t? He’s dead?” he asks me, worried.

“No, he’s fine Carlton,” I answer. He sighs, but quickly catches himself.

“Why aren’t you there then?” he asks me.

“He hasn’t woke up yet.” The chief sees me and motions me over. I tell Carlton that I’ll talk to him later. I go over to the chief, we go into her office.

“Good to see you Juliet. How’s Shawn?” she asks me.

“He’ll be okay,” I answer. She smiles.

“What all does he have wrong with him?”

“He has a severe concussion, he lost over two pints of blood, he has seven broken ribs, his right leg is broken, he has a deep cut going all the way across his chest, several small cuts, his gun shot was infected, and he was stabbed in the stomach,” I give her the full list. She looks at me with her mouth open.

“He’s going to be okay?” she questions.

“Yes,” I answer with a smile. She smiles as well.

“Good. I’ll call you when I need you to come in,” she says. I nod and leave. I visit the hospital again, he’s still asleep. I go home and watch t.v. then go to bed.

When I wake up it’s nine. They won’t allow me to visit him until ten, so I go and get breakfast from Hardees. I go to see him, still not awake. Bored, I go home and watch the first three Transformers movies, that takes up about nine hours. It’s already eight o’clock. Visitor hours are 10:00 am to 10:00 pm, so I go visit Shawn. I sit next to his bed. I put a hand on one of his still ones. He lies there, non-moving, so non-Shawn. He looks completely destroyed and defeated. My heart breaks just looking at him. At nine, I get ready to go home.

“Shawn, wake up, please,” I beg his still form. Tears escape my eyes. “Please Shawn. Wake up,” I beg. I take one of his hands in both of mine and rest my head on them. I cry silently, I feel so alone. It’s no use, he’ll wake up when he wakes up, not when I want him to. I decide that I will leave in a few minutes. I stop crying and just rest my head on my hands. I hear a groan.

“Shawn?” I ask, looking up. Sure enough, he’s awake. He tightens his hold on my hands. “Shawn, it’s okay. You’re at a hospital,” I tell him. He looks over at me and smiles, my heart cracks, but I smile back.

“You okay?” he asks me, his voice broken and tight, but it’s there.

“Yes, I’m more than okay,” I answer smiling wider. “You were just held hostage and tortured and you’re asking if I’m okay?” I ask in disbelief. He nods. He looks over at a styrofoam cup of water. I help him drink it. I then put it back on the little table next to his bed.

“Is Derek okay?” he asks, his voice a little less coarse.

“Yes, he didn’t have a single scratch,” I inform him. Shawn sighs in relief. “He called me and told me the street names and the buildings close to the factory. He also told me that you wrote my number with a broken pencil and an old piece of paper you found.” He smiles and nods. “I told him to go the donut store and that’s where we found him.” He smiles wider. But then, his smile starts to fade away.

“What is it Shawn?” I ask, suddenly worried.

“What about Joseph York?” he asks me, slight fear in his eyes.

“He’s dead Shawn. He came out with a gun and Lassiter shot him,” I tell him. Shawn closes his eyes and smiles. I put my head next to his, burying my face into his hair. He puts a hand on my back. He’s alive and awake in my arms, and  couldn’t be happier. Tears of joy escape my eyes. I sit up, Shawn keeps his hand on my back.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, his voice getting more coarse.

“Nothing! They’re tears of joy Shawn,” I answer wiping them away. He smiles. I give him another drink of water. “You’re awake and I’m happy,” I say quietly.

“How long was I out?” he asks me.

“They day you were admitted, all day yesterday, and most of today, so about two and a half days,” I answer. He nods. He yawns, making me smile.

“I’m going to go, get some sleep. I’ll be back tomorrow,” I tell him. I kiss him on the forehead and leave, with a smile on my face.