Fifth a Fury

Hibiscus lived on the muggy air along with lush greenery and island sweetness. Sully’s wonderland seemed both apologetic and welcoming, as if it needed to erase the pain and demise that’d happened here and promised the power to reverse the anarchy that Drake had brought.

I tripped as my body urged me once again to sleep.

This fatigue was different to the catatonic urge to shut down after enduring elixir. This wasn’t just mind fatigue but physical, emotional, soulful.

I’d done what I could for Sully.

I’d killed his brother on his behalf.

I’d spent his money via Dr Campbell to fly him home.

And I’d stupidly, stupidly hoped that the moment Sully smelled his tropical jungle and heard the licking waves, he’d remember. He’d wake up. He’d be healthy and mine again.

I couldn’t lie and say I wasn’t disappointed.

And I couldn’t stop my heart from breaking all over again as Pika shot from the glossy bushes and zipped straight to Sully, lying like a warrior who’d been carried from battle to be buried amongst family.

If anything could snap Sully out of the unwakeable sleep, it was the winged comedian with such attitude.

The tiny green, white, and apricot parrot landed on Sully’s chest. He squeaked and puffed up, his black eyes glistening with pure joy.

The doctors stopped wheeling Sully, all watching Pika as he rolled onto his wings and waved his scaly legs in the air. He chattered and chirped, slithering around on Sully’s chest, nuzzling into him, showing every possible affection.

When Sully didn’t react, Pika squawked with annoyance and flipped back to his feet. Marching up Sully’s chest, he pecked at his chin. He fluttered and landed on his nose.

I did my best not to get my hopes up.

I tried to prevent my mind from tormenting me with images of Sully sitting upright and laughing. Of him kissing the tiny bird and proving that he’d been faking his unresponsiveness all along.

However, the heart rate monitor didn’t register a pulse-kick. His skin didn’t flush. His lips didn’t twitch.

Nothing.

Oh, God.

I wedged a hand against my stomach as Pika switched from happy little tyrant into melancholy mope. His wings sagged, his puffed-up feathers fell, and his tiny questioning squeak made me cry all over again.

“Pika...” I scooped him from Sully’s face and kissed his sagging head. “It’s okay. He’ll be okay.” The tiny bird struggled to get out of my hand.

I let him go, only for him to fly back to Sully and sit on his forehead, pecking at Sully’s eyebrows, a string of chirps, cackles, twirls, and tweets falling from his beak.

You didn’t need to be an animal whisperer to see his absolute pain. His rejection. His panic that Sully wasn’t okay.

I stroked his tiny head, brushing aside my tears. “He’s just sleeping, little Pika. He’ll wake up soon. You’ll see.”

Pika suddenly hopped onto my finger and let out a heart-stabbing screech. He whipped his stare from me to Sully and cocked his head until horizontal.

And then, he exploded off my finger in a burst of green.

He zoomed into the jungle and vanished.

“Everything okay?” the female doctor, who I’d learned was named Louise Maldon, asked. Her colleagues began wheeling Sully down the pathway leading toward my villa.

I swallowed back the pain that’d lodged tight in my throat. “Pika just doesn’t understand. Sully is his soul-mate. I guess he’s a little heartbroken that Sully didn’t respond.”

So am I.

Louise nodded, sweat breaking out on her brow as they continued to battle against sand and heavy stretchers. “If he means a lot to Mr. Sinclair, you need to keep him close. I suggest you gather everything that means a lot and surround him with as much familiarity as possible.”

I made eye contact. “In that case...I was going to suggest going to my villa as its closer and not as far to push, but...we should take him to Nirvana.”

“Nirvana?”

“His waterfall.” I trailed my fingers over Sully’s forearm resting over the white sheet covering him. IV lines still punctured his body and oxygen tubes still stuck beneath his nose, but for once, his skin wasn’t icy.

It’d warmed thanks to the island sun.

Please, please wake up.

“He needs to hear the falls. He needs to feel the water.” I looped my fingers with his. “I’ll do whatever it takes to make him come back—to me and to Pika.”

* * * * *

I sat on the bed with my hand on Sully’s chest and blurrily watched the commotion as the doctors set up an in-home triage. Dr Maldon was a good leader, precise and kind, traipsing with her colleagues to gather the medical supplies and equipment they’d brought from Geneva with them to monitor Sully.

I’d thought they’d leave the moment they’d shifted Sully from the travel stretcher onto his mosquito-netted bed, but she’d pulled me aside and asked if I would object to them sleeping in cots in the lounge for a few nights to monitor Sully’s condition after such a long journey.

I’d nodded and plopped heavily beside Sully. Him lying with tubes and sensors tracking his heart and me swaying by his side, linked by our hands...even if only one of us was aware of the contact.

The setup was like a dance. A choreography of wheeled machines and medical equipment that slowly transformed Sully’s bedroom into a hospital.

The sugar glider who lived in Sully’s rafters blinked nocturnal grumpy eyes and did its best to go back to sleep. The beetles and geckoes kept their distance but were too reluctant to leave, and the heron and kingfisher on the balcony watched with intelligent eyes, weighing up the likelihood that the monitor wires were eels to snatch.

“Have a shower. I’ll keep an eye on him.” Louise arched her chin at the bathroom.

I blanched.

How could I have a shower alone when the last time I’d stood in his open-air bathroom and listened to Nirvana splashing, I’d just enjoyed the best day of my life? Sully had stripped down his masks, told me he loved me, and spent the day with me naked in the natural pool.

We’d reached a level of sweet domestication, even if our blood was full of deviant desires. If I showered on my own, I was effectively erasing the best day of my life with one of my worst.

“Go.” She patted my shoulder as I blinked away my haze. “You’ll feel better. Once you’ve washed the flights off, you can sleep beside him. He’ll sense you’re there, and you can rest.”

I nodded blankly, allowing her to pluck me from the bed and shoo me into Sully’s bathroom.

* * * * *

I slipped into one of Sully’s business shirts and tied a bronze tie around my waist as a belt. Clean body and clean clothes helped me perk up a bit.

Yes, I’d hoped Sully would have a miraculous event and wake up the moment he felt he was home. But just because we weren’t in a storybook where the villain fell asleep and the hero was reborn didn’t mean he wouldn’t open his eyes soon.

Tomorrow maybe...or the day after.

The point was, I had to stay positive.

With my head held high, I strode back into Sully’s bedroom and jerked to a stop.

Five policemen stood at the foot of Sully’s bed all muttering in Indonesian and waving at Sully’s prone form as if he was an obstruction of justice and deserved to be arrested.