Adapted

Can ICU?

I haven't spent a lot of time in hospitals so I was pretty unprepared for the maze of corridors, all titled under specific ailments, several of which 'Jane Doe' could be in.

I had walked in with a determination that had taken the whole bus ride here to muster, but it faltered when I engaged in a futile attempt to remember the ward I was in last night. Not that it matters, she's probably been moved by now anyway.

I was off to a great start.

I spent so much time going over my alibi (I was going to claim to be her brother) I didn't think about actually getting to her. This is supposed to be the easy bit and I can't even get this right.

I passed a cafe and the children's unit before I spotted a map pinned to the wall and figured out that I could at least narrow down the possible wards she'd be in. ICU was probably my best bet, I scanned a few other options and noted that I may need to check into the clinical psychology unit before I left because what I was about to do was bat-shit insane.

The map said the ICU was somewhere on the bottom floor but it was difficult to figure out where. Everything was colour coded in an attempt to be easier to correlate but the achieved effect was just more confusing. I ended up lost in a storeroom, running from the cleaner ladies who preceded to scream a load of curse words at me for being a damned idiot.

Somehow, I managed to find my way to the ICU and booked it for the receptionist desk. I power walked my way down the log corridor but before I could turn the corner I slammed my back against the wall.

Hidden by that corridor, my adventure had been further complicated by the sight of a tall, brooding, middle aged detective. The detective who'd questioned me yesterday, of course, because of all the detectives it had to be the one who'd recognise me.

In truth I probably should've expected this. 'Jane Doe' in the subject of a pending investigation and from what I gathered yesterday Detective Martins is leading it.

I stayed where I was, hidden by the corner and watching the detective pacing stress-fully. I tried to think of a plan that didn't start with 'leave'. I considered waiting upstairs for a while until he left (he was bound to at some point) but then I figured someone would just replace him. Detectives don't just sit outside at random. They're pretty damn consistent with it.

Maybe- and it's a big maybe- the detective would be okay if I saw her? Sure it might be strange and totally illegal and completely creepy but I'm sure if I just tell him how I feel he'll understand?

Yeah, no. What the hell is wrong with me? Did I really just think that a police officer would let a kid who's bunking off school creep over some unconscious underage girl? Maybe I subconsciously want to be arrested, maybe I've finally lost the will to live because I sure as hell would not do well in prison.

But I'm here now, I have to do something. I came here for a reason. My trauma is legitimate, I deserve answers.

I sound like a pussy. I'm a cockroach about to get squashed.

I took a small, nervous step out from behind the corner expecting the detective to pounce on me immediately. He didn't even see me, he was staring at his shoes facing my direction.

An instinct took over and I turned on my heel toward the ICU doors where she must be. I reached out my hand for the door-

"Mr Whiddon? What're you doin' here?"

Shit. I don't know why the hell I thought that'd work, I really do have a death wish today. I turned back on my heel to face him, crinkling my face up to embrace for the impact and also trying to look as innocent as possible.