MAYBE KURT HAD been right all along.
He and Lindy were soulmates. Their souls, intertwined by their intersecting lifelines, must have indeed been knotted together in union. They must have been linked so tightly together as one that even on a different continent, Lindy had felt Kurt's life fizzle out and slowly fade back in, dragged back in to the world kicking and screaming.
It sounded like fairytale jargon, but to Lindy, it made sense as she drifted in her thoughts, swimming deep in darkness. Her soulmate had rubbed shoulders with heaven and hell, and she'd joined him in her own sliver of obscure nothingness.
She could feel herself searching for him. Her soul screamed, begging to feel the familiar pull and tug of his own soul wrapped solidly with hers. But this bond had sustained severe damage. She could feel it.
Parting her eyes, Lindy's vision was assaulted by obnoxious light that filled a plain looking room. When she twitched her fingers, she could feel the rough material of a bed sheet. It was familiar.
"Lindy? Lindy, are you okay?"
Jack's voice was permeating the blackness, guiding her senses along with the yellow light and bringing Lindy back to the present time where souls were hidden and the truth was the most brutal pain in existence.
Lindy squinted, wishing someone would turn the lights down. They were much too bright. She felt weak, but she was regaining feeling from her head and all the way down the rest of her body. It was like she was waking up from an unreasonably long slumber.
Her first priority would have been to ask Jack to turn the lights off. They were really starting to make her headache worse. And then she would have asked for water. Her throat was parched dry. But then she began to remember the voice of the MTV host. He had announced that Kurt had overdosed. He was in a coma.
Lindy opened her eyes fully, her pupils darting left to right as she took in the interior of a hospital room. She started to shake uncontrollably, feeling confined to one spot, a spot that trapped her from getting to Rome as soon as possible. If he was going to die, she was going to first do everything she could to prevent it from happening.
"K-K-Kurt . . .," Lindy stammered, her teeth chattering with the enormity of her anxious panic. Jack made a gentle shushing noise, placing a hand over Lindy's and moving closer to her bedside.
"He's fine, Lindy, he's fine."
"You're l-l-lying," Lindy said. "I saw the n-news."
She tried to sit up, but Jack forced her back down on the bed with careful hands.
"I called your brother on the way here. He got in contact with someone named Krist. Does that ring a bell?"
Lindy nodded her head yes. It was too much of an effort to move her jaw in order to speak when it shook so forcefully.
"Krist told Trae to tell you not to worry. Kurt is going to be okay. They're bringing him back to the States and he's going to receive medical treatment here."
"But the coma . . ."
"He's not in a coma anymore. He woke up not too long ago."
Lindy's relief was huge upon hearing this. But, it must have been relief that was too big for her body to process, for she still felt anxious even as she laid back into her pillow.
