That Blue Gibson

CH 67

Beep

Liz squeezed her eyes shut and tried to run her tongue across the roof of her impossibly dry mouth.

Beep

She tried to swallow, but it felt as if she had a mouth full of sand.

Beep

Forcing one eye open, she stared at the water-stained ceiling tile above her head. Her other eye opened and she took a minute to focus her vision before trying to lift her head.

Beep

"Oh fuck," she groaned as pain exploded inside of her skull. There were a few monitors, an IV bag and light blue curtains in her peripheral vision, but she was alone in the space just big enough for a bed.

Beep

She held her hands up in front of her face, curiously eyeing the bandages wrapped tightly around each palm and silently thanked every celestial being she could think of that her arms still worked.

Beep

"Oh, fuck off," she whispered before ripping off the oxygen monitor taped to her finger. Tossing it aside, she looked back to the screens and watched as a peaked line went flat and the beeping ceased. She moved to sit up, the pain in her head so intense that she had to shut her eyes and remember to breathe, but it felt like warm, comfy hands were gripped tightly around her neck, preventing her from filling her lungs. She reached up and clawed at the thick foam neck brace, finally finding the little Velcro latches that held it together and tore it loose, letting it fall open on the pillow behind her. As soon as she regulated her breathing, she slowly pushed herself upright, trying to ignore the intense pain as she stared at the blue curtain at the foot of her bed. Taking inventory of her remaining senses, she could hear a television though it was quiet and muffled, and then the sound of footsteps. Again, they were a ways off, but they were quick, a running speed and then they stopped with a squeak, reminding Liz of an NBA game she had been dragged to with McCartney. Then there were clear voices.

"Sir, I can't let you in here."

"No, I need to get back there-"

"There are no visitors beyond this..."

The voices faded in and out as Liz tried to focus on them. One was English, the accent northern and the other was American. The latter was so familiar that she was immediately annoyed that she couldn't place it.

"Look, I know you're just trying to do your job, but she's alone back there and-"

Liz was suddenly conscious of the way her body reacted to the voice. She felt her shoulders relax and her breathing calm, she felt a little bit safer than she did a few seconds ago.

"I still can't let you back-"

Jesus, lady. Just let the guy do what he wants, she thought.

"She's my girlfriend. Please just let me see her."

Girlfriend? Once again ignoring the pain, she looked around before throwing the flimsy blanket off her legs and grabbing her IV tower for support. She shakily stood up and, vaguely reminded of her first steps after giving birth to Jack, used the tower as a crutch to shuffle her way past the curtains.

*

"She's my girlfriend. Please just let me see her," Dave pressed his hands together in front of him, begging the nurse to let him by. He was considering just making a break for it, but he had no idea which curtained room Liz was in.

"Sir, I'm very sorry, but I can't even confirm the name or... names that you've given me," the woman looked exhausted, but she really did seem sorry.