NUMB

Day Fifty-Three - Jet

It smells like antiseptic and bleach. There's a beeping to my right that won't stop and how am I supposed to sleep with it going on and on and on like that? I can't tell if my eyes are open or not. I can't even remember where I am or how I got here. The beeping gets faster for a moment. My panic resides as it comes back to me with the slowing of the beeps.

Light filters into my vision. My eyes finally open. The room is standard for hospitals. There's a window to my left with the curtains open and the sunset orange light makes the room look a little more inviting. The bed is set so I'm sitting up a little, the blankets tucked around my legs. I prod at myself tentatively once I get my arms working. My face seems to be intact, my legs still work, toes still bend. My hand brushes against my right side and I wince. I look down, lift the white t-shirt I'm in and see bandages wrapped around my midsection.

I was shot.

Sheila shot me.

Oh god, Elyse. Is she alright? Did everyone make it out? Someone must have since I'm not lying dead on the roof of a burning building right now. I try to remember anything that happened. We were on the roof, and then Sheila was there. She fired her gun. Fired it at Elyse. I moved in time though, must have if I caught the bullet with my gut. I drop my head into the pillow behind me and stare up at the ceiling.

A doctor comes into the room a little later, followed by another. I'm looked at, asked some questions about how I'm feeling. They hover around me for a few minutes before leaving again. The longer I'm here, the more I can remember. I was in and out of consciousness yesterday, blank for most of the day though. They have me on a morphine drip, with a button that gives me a booster if I start to feel the burn in my side again.

I'm thinking about taking a hit just to get back to sleep when the door to my room opens. Elyse stands there in the doorway, her eyes taking in the site of me on the bed. I smile at her, a full smile. The relief that washes over me at seeing her standing there perfectly fine is palpable. She eventually lets the door close behind her and moves to stand at the foot of the bed.

"Hey." I say. My voice sounds cracked, worn down from the last week.

"Hey," she says. She still hovers around the edge of the bed, looking torn between staying there and moving closer to me. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I got shot," I joke. It's not funny. Neither of us laugh about it. "Docs say I'll live, so I guess I'm okay. How are you? Are you hurt?"

She shrugs. "I am not bandaged and lying in a hospital bed, so I guess I'm okay."

A laugh slips out at that. Jokes sound good on her lips. "What happened to Sheila?"

"She died," she says without any hesitation. There's something about the way she says it and then nothing else that has me trying to find the answer on her face.

"I see. And everyone else?"

"They are all fine. They were here yesterday and this morning, but then something came up and they had to go."

"That's good." I can't help but feel like there's something she isn't telling me. But I don't want to press her on it, because there has to be a good reason she isn't telling me. Her shoes squeak on the floor and I finally break the silence. "Elyse," I wave her over. "Come here."

She looks at me, her brown eyes jumping from my face to my side to the monitor next to me. "I do not know if I am allowed—"

"Just get over here, please." I raise my eyebrows, grab her fingers when she's close enough and drag her the rest of the way over. "I don't know about you, but I could use a nap." I tug on her hand until she finally relents and climbs onto the bed next to me. She's careful as she settles in against my side, her arm hovering near my waist. "It's on the other side." I point to where the wound is, on the empty side of the bed. "So you're fine. Don't be afraid of hurting me. The nurse gave me this neat little button that will give me pain meds if it starts to hurt." I grin, take the button that hangs by my head and dangle it in front of her.

She bats the button away, her lips curling into a smile that only stays there for a split second. Then she says, "I was afraid that you were dead."

I let the button go, feeling my grin fall from my face. There's something about the way she uses the word afraid that has my pulse picking up. It doesn't show on the monitor, thankfully. I pull Elyse closer to me, she wraps her arm around me loosely. I don't know what to say to her. I'm still trying to digest that she actually said she was afraid, she was feeling something. My fingers find their way into her hair and I pet it gently.

She shuts her eyes and repeats, "I was afraid you were dead."

"It's okay," I say. "I'm not going anywhere."

Her body goes heavy as her breathing slows, as she drifts off to sleep. I watch her, the slow rise and fall of her body as she breathes. Eventually, my breathing matches hers and my eyes are too heavy to keep open and I fall asleep as well.