Dylan (18+) [ON HOLD]

chapter four: H O S P I T A L

cw: cops, hospitals, doctors

Dylan

 . . .

I don't ride in the ambulance with Gabby, much as I want to.

For one thing, I'm not allowed to as they needed space to use a valve mask and help her breathe. But, I don't even think I could handle being in such close proximity to people who know all of the proper terminology regarding Gabby's injuries.

I arrive at the hospital much slower than I would like, given my lack of speeding. I'd been in no state to drive, so it'd taken me a while to get my emotions under control, enough for me to follow the ambulance.

A brisk call to Levi and the rest of the family was on their way to the hospital as well.

My legs feel like lead weights as I follow the receptionist's instructions and drag myself into the dinky elevator and down the hallway of the second floor.

I can hear my own pulse thrumming in my throat, my blood raging in my veins as the ghostly smell of copper tingles my senses.

Have to get to Gabby...

I reach the room and take a breath to steel myself and knock gently on the door frame before walking in. 

My breath catches in my throat as my eyes land on Gabby who lays, looking much too frail in the hospital bed. She's turned on her side and facing the wall, whilst her doctor, who looks up at my entrance continues to speak to her.

He finishes his abrupt sentence, waves a hand toward the corner of the room.

I look over, seeing a lady cop who holds a hand in my direction. She's not in uniform, but by the way she holds herself, and the gun holstered on her hip, she's definitely a cop. "Sir, I'm sorry. I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to—"

At the mention of a person in her room, Gabby shoots up, an action that must cause her pain as one hand shoots up to hold her head, whilst the other wraps around her middle, her eyes tightening ever so slightly.

I curse under my breath, and ignoring the doctor and the police officer, go to her bed. Shakily, I reach a hand out to grab hers, and Gabby smiles sadly.

Without the blood on her face, she looks haunted, her usually tan skin appearing sallow in the light. There's an angry purple bruise on her temple and other marks on her face, but all I can see is the haunted look in her dark eyes, and how she only seems to look at me, rather than see me.

"Hi," she murmurs hoarsely, a tear escaping her eye.

I brush it away, and cup her face tenderly with my palm. "Hey, Mighty Mouse." 

Her grip on my hand tightens, as does her grip on herself, as though she needs to protect herself from the outside world.

"Mr. Mercer, I presume?" The officer's question interrupts our solemn silence to analyze our interaction.

I nod, unable to form a more coherent string of words. Not letting go of Gabby's hand, I turn in my chair to face the officer.

She sighs, raking a hand over her slick, wavy hair that ends in a curly ponytail at the nape of her neck, and goes to shut the door. 

"I'm Detective Foley with the Cheyenne Police Department. Ms. De Santis has already given record of her attack to an officer, and I'm here to take your statement." She looks as if she wants to say more, but then shakes her head. "I don't suppose either of you would like for us to talk in private?"