BOND

42.

Time takes time to heal it

You can't do it by yourself

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.

Elena felt someone shake her awake. It wasn't the interruption to sleep as much as the contact that immediately shuddered her awake. 

Her right hand flew up to her chest to still her increasing heartbeat, a practiced move after one conscious week of getting accustomed to all her injuries, there were another couple of days before that that she had no recollection of. The rope had dug in into her left hand halfway down to the bone when she had struggled against it, so moving it wasn't a very good maneuver.

Don't think about the warehouse. Focus on something else. Don't think about it. She chanted. It was much too tempting to lose herself in the memories, let that lucid wave roll over her. 

The relentless nightmares had at least taught her not to think about that night while she was awake, for her sanity if not anything else. 

A paper cup took over her field of vision and she blinked away the image of the gun barrel pointed straight into the middle of her forehead. Trailing her eyes she looked at the persistent smile that had somehow grown irritating, not that she would ever tell him that.

"It's been a long time since you had something to drink," Chase downed his own cocktail of aspirin and Red Bull, pushing the cup against her lips. 

A parallel to you were whispering in your sleep and I was getting afraid, she had come to understand.   

They had learnt the hard way that she shouldn't holding things a few days into the hospital when her wrist had started bleeding at the exertion. 

She grimaced in gratitude and carefully lowered back onto the bleach packed pillows, careful not to push against the bruise on the back of her head, the only one that she could distinctly feel getting better. The rest of her body seemed numb, at least that was what she told the doctors.

But she couldn't feel anything on her skin so maybe it was true. But the pain was there, coursing through her every second of every day so far. 

She wasn't crying like she had when they had brought her in, the nurse had told her. Followed by the advise to let her emotions wash over her. That it would make it better.

She could feel the tears building up in her throat around the clock but whatever barrier was holding them was too sturdy. So she ignored it. 

Every time she felt herself reminiscing, she would pull herself out of it. It was too painful to actually think about it than forcing herself not to.

Daniel came into the room, the lack of sleep echoing off his dark circles and droopy movements. He said something in Chase's ear before looking at her.

Elena turned her head away from the concern filled eyes. This was perhaps the only thing worse than the actual night. The constant worry emerging out of everyone each time they even glanced at her.

She felt Chase rub the back of her hand and tried not to move away at the now repulsive contact. "I'll be back, pumpkin."

Of course he would. She couldn't think of more than an hour, even with her hazy memory of the past week, when he hadn't stationed himself by her bed. 

Maybe it was too make up for not being there when she was being dragged through her own house, unconscious. Or not being able to get her to talk about anything that had happened. Whatever the reason, guilt was a big part of it.