Guarded Hearts and Broken Wings || S.R.

13 - Nice to Meet You

A soft, persisting ringing accompanied a quiet murmuring that filled her ears as she shifted her head with a moan. The taste of metal and blood no longer sat on her tongue. Instead, it felt cold and almost sterile. When the murmuring was replaced with an expectant silence, Amelia peeled her eyes open.

"Mel?" She heard an eager voice at her side. She blinked a few times to take the room in before shifting her weight and turning her head with a moan to reply. Marcie was sitting with both hands on the bed.

"How are you feeling?" Marcie asked.

Mel paused with a long blink before her eyes focused on Marcie's chef coat. With guilt in her voice, she croaked, "Did you miss the critic?"

Marcie rolled her eyes. "Work was practically over already. Even if it wasn't, you getting blown up is much more important than that. A million times over."

Mel's eyebrows furrowed at that, but she did not respond. Instead, she looked forward to Rossi sitting in front of her. "Who are you?"

"SS Agent David Rossi. I work with Dr. Spencer Reid. It's a pleasure to meet you."

As if on cue, the door burst open to make room for Spencer flying into the room. Mel turned her head, and they locked eyes. Spencer stood there with his eyebrows twisted, breathing heavily from his sprint to the room, melting in relief. For a time, it seemed like they shared thoughts across the empty space until Mel offered a weak smile. "Hey, twig."

"It's good to see you awake, " he returned with a smirk at the nickname as he approached the bed. His eyes scanned her face. Her smile looked forced and her eyes hollow. While he was thrilled to see her awake, something felt terribly off. That joyous spark he craved was nowhere to be seen in her big brown eyes.

"How do you feel?" He asked softly.

Behind his back, Rossi gave Marcie a face like 'get a load of these guys.'

Mel glanced between Spencer and Marcie. "Mostly just tired and sore and—" she reached down to her thigh "— my leg hurts like nobody's busy. And my head, god."

Lie. A great invisible weight chained her soul, and she was too scared to shake the chains to test them.

"Do you remember anything?" Spencer chimed.

Mel was now studying her wrist that was in a cast, confused. "Everything's sort of fuzzy. Like a dream."

Is this what chained her soul down?

"You suffered a concussion. Though rare, they can cause memory loss. If it's still there, though 'fuzzy', it will probably come back in pieces over time."

"I hope it doesn't," she mumbled.

"You should know," Rossi started, "that the other witnesses have been calling you a hero. They're saying you stared down the barrel of a gun and stalled long enough for us to show up. That's quite impressive, young lady."

Mel stared, trying to recall the moment. "I don't — I just remember thinking that I didn't want to die." She jerked her head to Marcie. "Mama— "

"Already on their way. Andrew is coming too. Forewarning, your mom was frantic."

"For once, an appropriate amount," Mel frowned. "Now she's really going to think I'm dead every time I take more than a minute to respond." She took a deep sigh. "In that case, I think I'm just going to need to rest until they get here ... and some more painkillers."

"Okay", Marcie laughed and stood. "I'll go find a nurse for you. Do you want the TV on or something to read while I'm gone?"

Mel shook her head.