His Innocent Little Doll:Family

Chapter Eighty Eight 'Injuries'

Ember watched on with a mixture of confusion as her favourite doctor leaned over her and began to speak gently, staring at her with a mixture of worry and concern almost as if she was a ticking time bomb. She felt different, her body felt different. Relaxation surrounded her like a warm hug and gone was the darkness. Ember truly believed she was back home, back in the real world but she wasn't sure if she was ready yet. Her throat was so incredibly dry that it became agony to even try to talk, all that left her were small grunts and groaned. It frustrated Ember, she had so many questions and most of all she was desperate to know if her baby was alright.
The only image that kept running through her mind was her Peanut laid within that coffin, dead. She hoped the dream wasn't reality and that she hadn't survived just for her one true love in life to die.
How could she possibly live without Diamond?

"Here this will help you dear" Peter smiled gently, carefully bringing a glass of water to Ember's lips.
She could feel the straw stabbing at her dry crusted lips and gathering what strength she could she took it within her mouth and slowly began to drink. The relief was instant, her throat was no longer screaming out in dehydration but the feeling of the water running through her gullet and into her stomach caused her to feel sick.
"I think that's enough water, drinking too much will undone any form of nourishment you have just required" Peter explained pulling the glass away from Ember, much to her extreme disappointment.

"D...D..Dia..monddd?" Ember croaked out finally staring at him with tear filled eyes.
"She's perfectly safe and happy! She spends her days by your bedside waiting for you to wake up so she can show off her new dolls" Peter grinned causing Ember to let out a sob mixed with a slight laugh.
Never in her life had she felt such relief, her baby was safe, she was alive!
Tears of joy flowed freely down her face, her heart was pounding in delight and shakily reaching out she placed her weak hand on top of Peter's.
"Thank.....you" Ember whispered with a small smile and a sigh.
"There's something you should know........Harley.....is alive"

His words hit Ember like a train causing her to hyperventilate as her orbs darted around frantically. The wheels were spinning faster and faster in her head causing her to feel like she would combust.
"But.....I watched her.....die!" Ember shook her head violently, her voice becoming stronger but it held a childlike tone.
She couldn't believe it, she had watched Alexander slaughter her sister with her own eyes. There was no possible way Harley was still alive.
She was still in the dream!
This had to be a dream!

"How do you think you're still here Ember? Harley managed to hold on until Charles found her. If she had died in that alleyway then we would have surely all been killed. Her injuries are clearing up nicely and she is going to make a full recovery" Peter smiled confidently, reassuring Ember with a squeeze of his hand.

Feeling completely overwhelmed Ember proceeded to break into gut wrenching sobs. She didn't know what to feel anymore. Relief, anger, hope, grief, happiness and sadness all ran through her fragile body and not knowing what to do Peter continued to sit holding her hand, hoping she would finally let everything she had pent up fall out.
Ember had been betrayed by Joker and a friend she trusted, she and her baby had been held hostage. Ember had been tortured, violated and shot, Ivy was dead, there would be no happy ending for her Harley only grief but on the other hand Ember had found Krissy, Elsie and made it out alive with most her family still intact. This had been her worst nightmare so how could she truly appreciate the 'happy' ending.

It took quite awhile but eventually Ember felt herself beginning to relax once more, her emotions were running dry along with her energy. She felt exhausted and knew the only reason she felt no pain was the fact she as pumped full of pain relief.
Ember wondered what her wound looked like, was it big, small, ugly or clean?
She was never one for vanity but she imagined having to see a mangled scar everyday would continue to fuel nightmares and the feeling of deep survivors guilt.