Lina 4
I was alone. In a black room. No, not a room. It was just a nothing, a voided forgotten space. Did I have a body? Did I exist? I was weightless and heavy all at once. And alone. So alone. I wanted to cry, but alas I could not. I couldn’t do anything. I was suspended in this emptiness, helplessly. Who was I? The sound of static shocked my senses back into action.
Wake…please…eyes…come…me…listen
I could only hear a handful of words through the static. My brain frantically grasped at those few words, triggering a tightness in my chest. Like I was starving for air.
Beep-Beep-Beep
Awareness cut through the confusion that dominated only seconds before. The disconnect that had previously consumed me was replaced by real, harsh sensations. The pain that had been absent appeared in full force. I doubted I could move any part of my body if I tried.
As I became more lucid, confusion at my surroundings bombarded me. Sneakers on tiles. A loud beeping and the rhythmic sound of breaths humming near me. Cold air trickled into my nose around something stiff. I longed to open my eyes, to make some sense of where I was.
A disembodied voice was still talking through the fuzziness surrounding it; I didn’t know to whom, I only heard the one. I tried to tune out everything else, to focus entirely on that voice. I knew that voice. I didn’t know from where, but I knew it. Even though it wasn’t clear, it was still beautiful. A set of green-gray eyes flashed in my mind, beneath dark wavy hair. I couldn’t remember the face, just the eyes.
My chest was getting tighter by the minute, while my brain struggled to make sense of the images invading it. I couldn’t do it. There were so many things happening at once that it was hard to distinguish one from another.
Abruptly, everything grew quiet, his voice was gone, the beeping and breaths ceased. Even the pain disappeared. The loss of stimulation was worse than the abrupt onset. I was once again in my abyss. The darkness pulling me in, inch by inch. Any second now, it would swallow me completely. In the blackness, there was a tiny speck of light. Calling to me. It beckoned like a siren from the dark waters surrounding me, drawing me back. Latching on, I let my soul follow that light, allowing it to be my lifeboat amongst the gloom around me. With every word I heard, I was pulled back a little.
Can’t…thought…you…Catalina…please…open…Cariad…do…come…to…me
Beep-Beep-Beep-Beep-Beep-SLAM!
My eyes snapped open, blinking against the dim light in the room. My heart dropped into my stomach at the absence of that voice. If death was what it would take to bring it back to me, I would gladly welcome the reaper with open arms. But even that thought felt wrong. Not innately wrong, as to be expected, but more so the way one felt when they disappointed others. Shameful, it was shameful.
The moonlight cast a thick slice of silver onto the floor through a gap in the multicolored drapes. A matching curtain was drawn around the bed, blocking the door from my view.
A guy lay hunched in a recliner next to my bed. He had slightly grown-out blond hair and wore dark clothes. It was his steady breathing that I’d heard. Even in sleep, his expression was painfully sad.
Opening my mouth, I willed my voice to work. "G-G-G-Gavin?" I was able to squeak out. My throat was raw and a trace of blood lingered in my mouth as I swallowed.
Bolting upright, Gavin turned on the bedside table light. My eyes rebelled against the brightness and I had to blink several times until they adjusted. Gavin didn’t speak at first, he just looked at me like I was the answer to every prayer he’d ever whispered. Judging by the stubble on his face, he’d been here for a while.
"You're awake," he said, more to himself than to me. He brushed a lock of hair away from my face. Keeping one hand on my head, he linked his other through with mine. "I thought I’d lost you," he whispered, bringing my hand to his lips and kissing each finger repeatedly. "I'm gonna go tell Jilsey that you're awake. I will be right back...please, stay with us while I'm gone." He leaned down and briefly rested his lips on mine. They were warm, comforting, and reminded me of home. I wanted to cry, but for what, I couldn’t tell you. Finally, he reluctantly let go of my hand and hurried out of the room.
Why was I here? Okay...chill out, Lina. Think. I had been at work. Then I walked home. I slipped and fell. And I hit my head. Raising my hand to my head, careful not to disrupt my IV, I gingerly touched my forehead. My fingers gently skimmed over a slanted row of what I assumed were stitches. What happened next? I think I passed out. Then there was that voice. That beautiful, wonderful voice. The thought of it sent a wave of despair through my body. The tears that I held back just a moment ago rapidly fell down my cheeks as I started to sob uncontrollably.
“—normal?” Gavin’s hushed whisper cut into my thoughts.
“It can be,” Jilsey said, squeezing my hand. “Lina?”
“Umm, what?”
I hadn't even realized that Gavin had returned with Jilsey and a doctor. They appeared to have been trying to get my attention for a minute or so. Gavin and Jilsey stood at my side. The doctor perched on the edge of my bed. She had short salt-and-pepper hair with a kind, round face, and tortoise shell glasses framing her brown eyes. She exuded a calming presence. I instantly liked her and imagined anyone who met her would, also.
"Hello, Catalina, do you know where you are?" she asked, soothingly.
"The hospital?" I answered, barely able to talk due to the dryness in my throat. "Can I have some water?"
Gavin hurriedly poured some water from the pitcher on my bedside table into a cup then helped me tilt my head up to take a sip. The cold liquid burned my raw throat, and I choked on it slightly, coughing and sputtering the water, making it dribble down my chin like a toddler using an open cup for the first time. Without pause, Gavin wiped it from my mouth with his hand and dried it on his pants.
"Yes, very good, you are at University hospital." She nodded and smiled. "Do you know what day it is?"
"Uh, January second?" I guessed, knowing it wasn't right.
"Close, it’s January sixth," she said, that smile never wavering, not even given the fact that I had five days of my life unaccounted for. “How old are you?"
“Twenty-one.”
“Last one: do you know how you got here?”
"I slipped on ice and hit my head," I said, replaying the jumbled bits of beautiful speech in my head. The secondhand version my mind could give me wasn’t as good as the original, but it helped ease the ache in my chest.
"Yes. You were brought here five days ago with blunt force trauma to the head. You lost a substantial amount of blood. We placed sutures in your head. You were unconscious when EMS arrived on the scene," she stated, using a very clear voice, like she was afraid that I didn’t understand her.
I just nodded once. She examined my head and took my vitals. Once she deemed me suitable enough to be left alone, she promised that she would have some soup sent up in a little while. After she was gone, Gavin and Jilsey gathered me in a gentle hug.
"I'm so glad you’re awake," Jilsey whispered, her voice tight because she was crying. I wiggled free from them and wiped her tears on the corner of my blanket. "You weren't doing too well when you came in. They had to physically remove me from the ER. Believe it or not, Gavin was the levelheaded one this time."
"Who called nine-one-one?" I asked, hoping they would be able to shed some light on the source of the voice dominating my thoughts.
"I did. I came home from work and found you lying at the bottom of the stairs," Gavin breathed. "You were supposed to stay home. You were supposed to be relaxing, and you went to work anyway," he accused.
I looked at him questioningly. “How did you know I was at work?” Really, I could have been walking home from anywhere, and he’d just assumed I was at work?
“Seline told me,” he sighed, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. “Do you realize what could have happened had I gone in through the back door? If the back porch light hadn’t been out, I would have. You would have died from exposure if the four pints of blood you lost hadn’t finished you off first.”
"I'm sorry, Gav. I went grocery shopping, and then I saw Seline's car on my way home. I meant to just go in for a little while,” I explained, knowing it probably wasn’t making matters any better. “I promise something like this will never happen again.”
"To be honest, I’m a little tired of your promises at the moment.” He squeezed my hand before pulling away and heading to the door. He paused but didn’t turn to face us. “I need some air, I’ll be back.”
Jilsey read the shock in my expression and took pity on me. "He hasn't left your side since you got here. He found you and about went crazy. He barely eats, barely sleeps, he hasn't shaved or taken a shower—hell, he hasn't even been home," she explained, willing me to understand. "Give him a little break, he loves you, and we were both worried."
I nodded, the lump in my throat growing bigger by the minute. I wanted to call Gavin back and apologize for—well, everything. But I knew Gavin, and I knew that his temper just needed to play out. Talking to him right then wouldn’t help anything.
"I’ve been keeping Seline updated and in the know. She has forbidden you from working until the doctor says it’s okay. She came to see you Monday and got quite an earful from Gavin, of course."
Of course. "Did you find my flowers?" I asked, hoping they weren’t sitting dead on the counter.
"I did." She smiled. "They were very pretty, thank you. I gave Gavin the note attached to his. But I ate his candy bar. He hasn’t worked out all week, he doesn’t need those calories."
"Good. Jils?" I said. "When can I go home? I just want to go home to my own bed."
"Soon, sweetie, soon," she said, patting my hair in a motherly way.
I nodded and curled up in my stark white hospital blankets, hoping that if I fell asleep the voice would come back. Maybe, if I could hear it one last time, it would sustain me for the rest of my life. My hand involuntarily reached to my neck to run the silver ring over the chain—like I always did when I was nervous, sad, or concentrating—but my hand met only the skin of my throat. I felt around all the way to the back of my neck and came up empty.
“Jilsey, did they take my necklace when I got here?” I asked in a mild panic. I couldn’t explain it, but that ring had grounded me so much the past couple years. It brought me a sense of calm that I’ve never experienced before.
“No, it wasn’t on you when they brought you in. All your personal effects are in my purse,” she said. “Maybe it fell off on your way home or at work. It’s probably out front, by the porch. We’ll have Gavin check later, okay?”
I simply nodded and let my body slump back against the pillows. A brief flash of stormy hazel eyes swept across my vision. Of smooth, warm fingers brushing my collarbone, sending a shiver through my already hypothermic body. I remembered his fingers on my necklace, and I remembered the look in his eyes when he saw the ring—recognition and surprise and heartache. Another vague memory surfaced, the sensation of the chain being tugged away from my neck.
“Who were the medics that brought me in?” I asked.
“Not sure,” she said, grabbing my chart and flipping to the back. “Stallard, Blye, and Goodman.”
Those names didn’t ring a bell. I was more familiar with the officers than I was the medics. “Are they men?”
Jils replaced the chart and took her seat again. “No, why?”
“No reason.” I shook it all off. This was probably another thing that I’d confused because of the head injury. He wasn’t real.
Gavin came back a few hours later, shortly after I had finished the salty water that the hospital called soup. As soon as he entered the room, Jilsey excused herself, saying that she was going to go sleep in the on-call room and to call her if we needed anything. Once she was gone, Gavin eased himself into bed next to me—taking care not to jostle me too much—and nestled me into his side. We lay like that for a moment before either of us spoke.
“I’m sorry I got upset earlier,” he said, his breath washing over my face, making my mouth water. I racked my brain for the cause of that delicious scent.
“Are those Funyuns I smell?” I asked, craning my neck get a better whiff.
“Maybe. Why?” He flashed me his most charming smile.
“Gav, I’m starving,” I whined. “They only gave me this nasty soup. What will it take for you to bring me back something edible? Funyuns, Doritos, Cheetos—anything really. I’ll even settle for trail mix or rice cakes.”
“Well, my dear, it’s your lucky day,” he said, pulling a crumpled bag of Funyuns from his pocket and handing it to me. “I felt bad, and I know how to buy your affection.”
“Yeah, ya do,” I said, pouring them straight from the bag into my mouth. “You have never been hotter.”
He laughed lightheartedly. “I think that’s the head injury. But those Funyuns are going to cost you.”
“Cost me what?” I swallowed my mouthful of junk and washed it down with some water.
He grasped my chin gently in his hand and lowered his face, his lips hovering slightly over mine. I inhaled deeply, preparing for his kiss, tilting my face upward, intending to meet him halfway—and that was when I heard it again.
Lina…hear…please…listen…don't…
Then it was gone. The sinking in my stomach returned with a vengeance, and the Funyuns and broth churned, the taste of bile threatening my throat. I was about to leap from the bed when I realized that Gavin still held my face in his hand.
Not real, not real, not real, I told myself.
I chanced a glance at him to see if he had noticed anything was amiss. His downturned lips and the crease between his eyes told me that my little episode did not escape his notice.
“Are you okay?” he asked worriedly. “Catalina, can you hear me?”
“Yeah, I can hear you,” I said in a soft voice. “Sorry, I just spaced. I’m tired. Did you hear that?”
“Hear what?” he asked, his frown deepening
“It sounded like static, but it was talking,” I said. “Like a badly tuned radio.”
“I didn’t hear anything. I was calling your name and snapping my fingers in front of your face,” he said. “You didn’t even blink, you just stared off into the room all glassy eyed.”
“Weird. Maybe I’m just tired,” I said. Still, seeing the worry in his eyes, I pulled him down to my level and kissed him softly on the cheek. “Thank you for staying here with me. But with all due respect, Officer Hollow, you need a shower, a hair cut, and a shave. Like really bad,” I teased.
“My hair has been this length for a while,” he said, running his hand through his scruffy hair with a quizzical furrow of his brow.
“I know.” I smirked a little. “You’ve needed a haircut for a while.”
“Well, then I suggest you hurry up and get better so we can all go home,” he said, moving to the recliner next to the bed and popping open the foot rest. “Because, the three of us? We’re a package deal. As long as you’re here, so are we. And that means no showers or shaving.”
I rolled my eyes and snuggled down into my bed. Hopefully this little hospital stay of ours wouldn’t last too much longer. I wasn’t sure my nerves or Gavin’s hair could take much more.