Being His

Chapter 14

Throughout the day, Freyja sat by his side, watching the machines that beeped and whirred, monitoring his vital signs. She wished that she could take his pain away, that she could make everything better. The bodyguards came and went, their expressions grim as they kept watch over us. The doctor stopped by periodically, updating us on his condition, but there was little to no change. As the hours passed, she found herself lost in thought, reliving the events of that evening. She couldn't believe that they had made it out alive. She rushed over to a bin and emptied her stomach. The image of Ezekiel being shot kept flashing before her eyes, and she couldn't shake the feeling of fear that still gripped her. She clung to the hope that he would somehow pull through but deep down, she knew that the odds were against us.The doctor continued to do everything in his power to save him, but his condition only worsened. The machines that once sustained him now served only to prolong his suffering. Freyja held his hand, feeling the coldness of his skin, and she begged him to fight, to not give up. But it was clear that his body was failing him, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. His heart flatlined for 3 minutes one day and she forgot how to breathe. The doctor rushed in, pumping his chest and administering CPR until he was able to breathe on his own. The doctors told me that this was common, that the heart could be restarted even after it had stopped beating for some time. But each time it happened, she feared that it would be the last.

Just when they were about to give up and call it quits, he showed a sudden spark of life. His heart began to beat on its own, and he gasped for air. The doctors rushed to his side, attaching him to machines and injecting him with fluids. They worked tirelessly to stabilize his condition, and for a brief moment, it seemed as though he might pull through. But the battle was far from over. His body was still fighting against the infection, and the damage from the bullet was extensive. The doctors remained cautiously optimistic, but they warned her that it was still too early to tell. But he proved them wrong. Slowly he began to recover. His color improved, and the fever finally broke. The machines were finally able to be turned off, and he was able to breathe on his own. The nurses and doctors marveled at his resilience, but she knew that it was all because of his strength, his determination to fight. She leaned against the wall, trying to catch her breath, when the door opened and Rio walked in.

"Hey," he said softly, hand on her shoulder. "How are you holding up?" She looked up at him, her eyes red from crying.

"Not great," she admitted. "I keep reliving the whole thing over and over in my head. It's just... it's so surreal." Rio nodded, his expression sympathetic.

"I know what you mean," he said. "But we made it out alive. We need to focus on Ezekiel now."

Freyja took a deep breath and forced herself to stand straighter. "You're right," she said, trying to sound more confident than she felt. "What can I do to help?" Rio glanced at the doctor, who was still monitoring Ezekiel's vitals.

"The doctor said he'd need rest," Rio explained. "So for now, just stay with him and make sure he's comfortable. Once he wakes up, we can brief him on everything that happened."

Freyja nodded, taking a seat next to Ezekiel's bed. She reached out and took his hand, squeezing it gently. Despite his pale complexion and the tubes and wires that connected him to various machines, there was an undeniable strength in his grip that made her feel reassured. She gave his hand a squeeze and gasped when she felt the motion returned.

"Hey, you're getting stronger already," she whispered, a small smile tugging at her lips. Ezekiel's eyelids fluttered open, and he gazed up at her. His face was pale, and there were tubes and wires coming out of every orifice, but his eyes were still the same intense blue that she remembered. He tried to speak, but his voice was weak. "Hey," she said softly, squeezing his hand. "You're in a safe house. You were shot, but you're going to be okay. The doctors are taking care of you." He nodded, his brow furrowing in confusion. "It's over," she told him. "The people who were after us are gone. Rio took care of them. You're safe now."

Ezekiel's eyes darted around the room, taking in their surroundings, and then he fixed his gaze on Rio, who was standing nearby. "You did it?" he croaked. Rio nodded solemnly. "Good job," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I owe you one."

Rio just shook his head. "We're a team. We do this together."

The room was quiet for a moment, as if the weight of what they had been through was pressing down on them. Freyja squeezed Ezekiel's hand, offering what comfort she could. She glanced at the doctor, who was monitoring Ezekiel's vitals, and then back at him. "How are you feeling?" she asked.

He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. "Like I've been hit by a truck," he admitted with a wry smile. "But I'm alive, and that's what matters." His gaze shifted to Rio, who nodded in agreement. "Can I talk to Rio alone for a minute," he said, his voice still weak. I looked at the man in question with a confused gaze.

"Of course. Just call me if you need anything." He glanced at Freyja, offering her a reassuring smile before she left the room with the doctor. The door closed quietly behind her, leaving Rio and Ezekiel alone. She felt the pressure that was just release build up again. Something was wrong. Ezekiel was up to something. She wished she could stay, but she knew it must have been important for them to have this talk. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to calm her nerves as she walked the corridors.