Heal me, Heal you (complete)

Chapter 2

"Lisa?"

There was a soft knock on her door. She didn't answer.

"Lisa, honey, are you awake?"

More knocking. Her stomach seemed to sink and tighten at once, if that was possible.

"Lisa, we're coming in."

Lisa didn't say anything. It wasn't like it mattered. Her parents would just come in anyway.

She kept staring at the blue curtains in front of her, watching the slight breeze from the window make the hem ripple and sway through the stuffy air, studying the dust motes where they waltzed in the slice of light between the cloth and the wall. The low buzz of conversation from the radio was more like white noise than anything; she wasn't paying attention.

The sound of the doorknob twisting made something sink in her chest. It always did. Lisa swallowed, breathing in slowly and mentally preparing herself as she heard the door open behind her, heard her parents barge in. Uninvited. Unneeded. Pointless, useless, really, always just –

"Lisa?"

Her mother's voice was painfully soft. Practically quivering. She always sounded like that, Lisa thought, swallowing hard around the lump in her throat. Like she was afraid of her. Or maybe as if too loud a decibel might break her.

"Morning." Her father's voice was easier, less afraid. Lisa knew he was taking everything pretty damn badly: he was just a better liar. She didn't mind. At least someone was going along with her pretty genius plan to internalize absolutely all her feelings and pretend nothing was wrong. "You're not usually up this early."

Lisa shrugged. (Well. She shrugged up. Gravity did the rest.) It was true – she wasn't. To be perfectly honest, she didn't really see the point in getting up most days. It wasn't like she could do anything, even if she wanted to. It wasn't like it was worth hassling anyone to drag her around somewhere she didn't want to go. But she'd barely slept last night and at around six in the morning she'd had enough of lying down staring at the ceiling. It was just luck she was on the early rounds with the hospital today. Sitting up staring at the curtain seemed like a nice alternative.

"Lisa." Her mother's voice was more even now. "Can you turn around, please? Someone's going to be here to see you soon."

"I don't need to talk to Yoongi –" Lisa huffed, clenching her jaw with the effort it took to move her finger against the button the arm of the wheelchair. She pushed through the resistance of her own body until the chair worked, turning around so she was facing the door. Her parents were standing like a pair of guilty teenagers in her doorway.

"We've got someone new starting today. Jennie Kim." Sarah announced tentatively, wary gaze darting over her. Lisa felt a rush of self-consciousness. God only knew what she looked like – she'd been wearing the same sweats for days, and she couldn't remember the last time her hair had seen a brush. "The – helper – we talked about."

"The babysitter you talked about," Lisa corrected, incredulous. Some small part of her knew she was acting like a whiny teenager, but she couldn't believe she'd actually done it. She'd actually gone and hired some stupid pointless care assistant to wheel her around and wipe her chin.

"We've talked about this. Your father and I agree, your therapist Yoongi agrees." Sarah's voice was set. Lisa sighed heavily. She knew from the tone that her mother wasn't going to take no for an answer. "Just try, Lisa. For us."

For us. For us. Everything was for them. Every single thing she'd done for the past year and a half, every goddamn breath she'd drawn was for her parents. She was a grown up woman.