I'm Okay

Husband

TW: a bit of abuse and a little language. This is a pretty safe chapter

(back to Alex's POV btw)

I struggle to stand up from the floor where James left me. It hurts to breathe too deeply and my vision is getting faded around the edges. I trip as I try to get up and land badly on my arm, which was already throbbing.

"J-James..." I manage to croak out, my voice hoarse and my throat sore.

He had managed to sober up at least a bit (although y'all, seriously, don't drink and drive please for the love of god.) and walks back into the room. He kneels next to me and picks me up, holding me close. I lean into him, whimpering in pain. He shushes me softly, carrying me to the car.

"When they ask, say that you got into a fight, okay?"

I nod, my voice still scratchy.

He leans over to kiss my cheek before pulling out of the driveway.

We get to the hospital an agonizing half an hour later and pull up to the emergency room. He helps me walk in, letting me lean fully on him like the amazing husband the world thinks he is.

He quickly fills out the form for me and they bring me into a small, shared room. The curtain dividing the room is drawn but it's silent so James and I assume it's empty.

After a while of wheeling me over to different rooms to get x-rays and blood tests and whatnot, they bring me back to the still-silent room and lay me down. They say a whole bunch of stuff I'm too out of it to care about. The nurse leaves and I turn to James, still distracted by the pain as the pain meds have yet to kick in.

"I didn't really understand what she was saying..." I mumble, knowing I sound dumb.

"You have a few broken bones, your right wrist and your left arm are the worst fractures so they're going to put those in temporary splints in a bit. They've already cleaned the cuts and there's no infection so that's good. The bruises should heal fairly quickly. They did say that you lost a fair amount of blood and it turns out you were dehydrated and malnourished so that's what the IV is for. You should be out in a few days. They want to do a few more tests to see if you have a concussion, though," he says softly, taking my hand and sitting on the end of the bed.

Oh boy he must be feeling guilty. He's being waaay too nice. This could last for a while and I plan on enjoying it.

"Now if they ask you, say you don't really know the guy you fought and you can't recognize him, okay? Or else they'll ask too many questions and we don't want them finding out."

I nod, muttering under my breath a bit.

"What was that?"

"I *said* 'yeah, wouldn't want the world knowing you treat me like a punching bag'." I snap.

I don't know if it's the painkillers or the fact that I'm safe here, but I'm getting a bit too mouthy.

He grabs my wrist and I cry out, tears filling my eyes.

"J-James, you're hur-urting me," I whimper.

He lets go of my wrist and glares at me.

"Make one more remark like that and I'll beat your ass again and not bother bringing you to the hospital this time."

I nod quickly, letting my wrist fall back down at my side.

"I'll be back tomorrow morning," he glares and walks out without another word.

I begin crying, unable to stop the tears. A nurse walks in, eyes widening when she sees me crying.

She looks kind and comforting, reminding me of my mom. She has pale skin with a faint blush, long brown hair pulled into a ponytail, and warm brown eyes.