Battleground | Criminal Minds (gxg)

Chapter 36

Elle's POV

The doctors tell me that if she doesn't wake up in two weeks, it's my decision what to do. It feels like one final blow to the gut. After all this time, and I'm still her emergency contact. She never changed it after I left. And now, I may have to decide the unthinkable.

They sent me home after the first week. Carli didn't wake up. I hated being away—the visiting hours were so few, and my apartment was so empty. I spent my days crying and sleeping, dreaming about Carli, both lovely and horrifying. The second week I was there as often as I could be. I was so scared. Scared I wouldn't be there if she woke up. Terrified I wouldn't be there to say goodbye.

She didn't wake up the second week.

I'm sitting beside her bed, her hand clutched tightly in mine, the form waiting for my signature on the table beside her bed. I haven't looked at it since the nurse left it for me to sign. I can't sign it. I know I can't. And I'm angry that Carli chose me to make the decision, until I see her lying before me and I know I would do anything she asked of me.

I would ruin worlds for her.

I'm not crying. I try not to cry when I'm here. I sit, and stare, and pray for her to come back to me. At least the tube has been removed from her throat. It's the second time they've taken it out; after the first time, one of her lungs nearly collapsed. They put it back in after that. But now, her mouth is free, her lips parted and rosier than they've been these past few weeks. Everyone tells me she's getting stronger. I just nod, grateful for the progress, but pained that this is better. That her body lying still and her chest hardly moving and half her ribs broken is better.

I lean in closer, my hand brushing her hair away from her eyes. "I'm here, Carli," I whisper. "Come back to me. Come home."

She moves.

Her fingers twitched; I'm sure of it. I stare at our hands interlocked. "Carli?" I breathe. I lean closer, my face hovering above hers.

Her fingers close around mine.

I hold her hand so tight I'm sure it's painful. My other hand strokes her cheek, begging for more. She takes a shaky breath, deeper than any before.

"I'm here," I promise, my voice soft.

Her eyes flutter open.

It takes her a moment to adjust to the world, the lights of the room, my face so close to hers. But when she does, her lips pull into a smile.

"Y–You look terrible," she manages.

I sniffle a laugh, pressing her hand to my lips. Her fingers hold mine tight. "And you look amazing."

The tears welling in her eyes are enough for the ones I've been holding back to crash through the floodgates. Her hand moves to the back of my neck and she pulls me into a hug. I wrap my arms around her, sniffling against her shoulder. I try to be gentle, but it takes everything in me not to squeeze tighter. Her head nuzzles against my neck, her breath warm against my skin.

When we separate, our lips stop inches apart. I remember the last thing Carli said to me, before she fell unconscious. But there's something in her eyes... and I'm not sure she remembers. She parts her lips to speak. "Elle–" she whispers, but she never gets to finish.

"You're awake!" A nurse appears at the door and rushes inside. I'm all but thrown away from Carli as she checks every machine surrounding her. Another nurse and a doctor enter the room at the excitement, all the people that have been silently praying for Carli's recovery.

The entire hospital knows the story—the FBI agent that held a building over her head to save her friends.

As far as stories go, this one sticks to the overwhelming, awesome truth.