My Partner Against Crime

Chapter 62

"Mrs. Rose, you suffered from a panic attack, quite a severe one at that." Is the very first thing I hear about a minute after I've woken up.

"Marshall." I sit up, suddenly realizing what I'm missing.

"No, ma'am, panic attacks during pregnancy can be a cause for concern because they can impact the fetus." I close my eyes and take a deep breath feeling incredibly frustrated.

"Why would you bring me here?" I open my eyes and look around my hospital room. The nurse standing next to me stares down at me.

"Ma'am, we needed to make sure your child was safe. There's not much we can do for pregnant women in an ambulance." I gently rub my temples while resting my elbows on my knees.

"You said I had a panic attack? That's not hospital worthy, it's not the first time it's happened and it won't be the last. Regardless, it happens, I don't need to be here. My team is down an agent, and right now they need all the help they can get."

"When was the last time you had a panic attack? Do you get them regularly?" My nameless nurse crosses her arms.

"What? No, I'm just saying it's nothing new." I look my nurse up and down as she gently pushes against my shoulders, laying me back on the bed.

"Get some rest, when you wake up we'll chat." She turns off the light as she walks out of the room. Typically I'd do the exact opposite, but I'm too tired to fight.
-

|Spencer's POV|

I get in my car and don't move. I'm not eager to see Marina. I know where she is, and I know she's safe, that's all that matters right now.

I sit with my eyes closed for at least twenty minutes. Sometimes I feel like I can't really bounce back from this one. That life won't be the same because of what I lived through today. That I won't be the same.

I flip down the car visor, and give myself a countdown to build up enough strength to flip open the mirror. I have an idea of what I'll see. I felt the pain of it earlier, I still feel the pain, and I'm terrified it'll never leave me. I bite down, tightening my jaw, before finally revealing what I've been desperate to forget.

The four deep cuts starting at the top of my right cheek, end near my collar bone. Today was messy, and heart shattering, and soul crushing.

I don't want to go home, I don't want to see Marina, I don't even want to see my own son. I don't want to be anywhere, I don't want to have experienced what I have.

I grab the small bottle of hydrogen peroxide and ziplock back of cotton balls from the passenger seat. One of the paramedics handed me the supplies since I wouldn't sit and allow them to take care of me. I open the bottle and pour some onto a cotton ball, then gently dab my wounds.

It's not as painful as I expected it to be, if anything I feel more numb than pain, but it's enough for my dam to break. I sit dabbing my wounds, crying my eyes out while avoiding anyone and anything for as long as I can. I can already tell I'm going to need stitches, the blood dripping from my face and neck is becoming overwhelming. I take off my blazer and do my best to tie it around myself for some sort of pressure.

As I'm driving I notice blood starting to seep through my right sleeve. I take my time driving to the hospital, I take my time parking, and I take my time waking in. The reactions of the hospital staff seeing me makes me nauseous, or at least enhances my nausea. I throw up in a trash can near the front desk, my right ear rings loud enough that even all the talking and action sounds so distant.