delicate • s.r. {completed}

• chapter sixteen •

~spencer's pov~

"Spence, get up."

I felt someone shaking my shoulder in an attempt to wake me up. It worked, but I was confused. Where was I?

My eyes opened to see the surroundings of a hospital room, and all the memories came flooding back in that moment. Y/N, the kidnapping, her injuries, the surgery.

The surgery.

I sat up too quickly, my vision blurring as my head started to pound. I pressed my fingertips against my eyes, trying to push the light away and get some relief from the pain. It didn't work, but I didn't care. All I want is to see Y/N.

"Where is Y/N?"

I saw Derek standing to my left, and I couldn't tell what his facial expression was. I couldn't read him to find out. Damn.

"She's in a room down the hall. She hasn't woken up yet."

I felt cold relief course throughout my body, a weight immediately being lifted off of my chest. She was okay.

She was okay.

"Can I see her?"

Derek was silent.

"What? What's wrong?"

"Nothing, kid. Come on, I'll take you to her."

I attempted to stand up to walk out of the room but instantly felt dizzy, and I stumbled into Derek's arms. He held me upright and quickly put me in a wheelchair. When did that get here?

"Careful, pretty boy."

He wheeled me out of the room and down the hall, the lights too bright and hazy for me to see anything clearly. It wasn't too far before he turned into a room, the beeping of machines piercing through the headache that was currently making it hard for me to see.

Derek stopped me at the side of her bed, my eyes laying on her mangled form. I couldn't really see, but I knew she was badly hurt. Her face had a few bruises, but nothing too bad. A tube went down her throat, and I assumed that was to help her breathe. My eyes traveled down and took in the injuries. Small cuts, large cuts, bruises, burns. The one injury I knew I wouldn't be able to see was her stomach. Where she was stabbed.

The unpleasant memory popped up in my mind, the sound that came out of her body as the knife twisted in her gut playing over and over and over in my head. It was a soft but pained moan, the noise mixed with a slight gurgling as blood traveled up her throat. I really wish I didn't have an eidetic memory at this point.

Morgan's hand gingerly touched my shoulder and I flinched, scared at the contact. His hand lifted a little before finally resting on my shoulder, his fingers squeezing slightly as if he was trying to remind me that he was here, that I wasn't alone.

That didn't matter, though. All I wanted was Y/N, and she was currently in a coma while her body recovered.

I watched the machines, paying close attention to her heartbeat. It seemed strong, the line spiking every few seconds. I couldn't tear my eyes away, scared that it would stop once and for all if I did.

"How long has she been out?"

"A couple of days."

I turned to face him. My vision had cleared, and I could finally see his face. He looked exhausted, the bags under his eyes dark and prominent.

"A couple of days? Why didn't you wake me up?"

He looked at his feet before he spoke.

"You needed sleep, kid. Besides, you were in such a deep sleep the doctors hooked you up to an EKG machine to make sure you were okay. You were just so exhausted, and I know you wanted to see her, but you needed you rest."