Ghost Bird Fanfiction: Sang's Lyric, The Story of Sang Sorenson's Mother

Doctor's Orders: Taylor's Point of View

(A/N: So I know each chapter is intense, and I hope that I'm not exhausting you until you're feeling like, "I can't possible expend any more energy on these characters." It's going to be bad for awhile. I don't know how else to do it.). Please comment- and let me know how it's reading to you- thanks!) 

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When I woke up, I woke up swinging.

"Taylor stop! Stop!"

Connie.

Her face was pale in the bright hospital light, her freckles standing out against her skin, her lips chapped as if she'd been biting them.

I raised my head to look around and swung my feet off the bed, giving my head a moment to catch up with my eyeballs.

I groaned. "Where's Lyric?" I asked.

"She's not here," Constance said quietly.

I stood up, looking around for my clothes, and she handed me my flannel shirt.

"What happened?" I asked.

"You threw down with the principal," she said, "and the school resource officer, and about three other teachers. You have a concussion." 
I shoved my hands into my sleeves and looked around for my boots, which appeared in front of me.

"Thanks," I said. "So is she with Kell and James?"

I shoved my feet into my boots and stood up, raising one eyebrow when she didn't answer.

"Well?" I asked, impatiently. "Is she in the waiting room? Why didn't you let her back here?"

"Taylor."

Constance looked behind her at the doctor who had just entered. He had a deep voice that bespoke gentleman. He was southern, but not from Texas. I'd place his accent around Georgia, or South Carolina.

"I'm Dr. Phil Roberts. You probably don't remember me, but I met you when you joined the Academy."

Many of those days were a blur of physical and mental exhaustion, so I stared at him a moment to see if I could place him.

"Oh," I answered, remembering him as one of the doctors who'd checked us for dehydration at boot camp. "Yes. I remember now. Hello." 


"Taylor," Dr. Roberts began, "I need you to stay seated."

I sat, but only because my knees suddenly gave out as my brain began to piece together information: Connie handing me clothes without arguing. The absence of Kell and James. The absence of Lyric.

I gripped the mattress hard. "Is she dead?" I asked, waiting for the inevitable affirmative.

Dr. Roberts head shook from side to side, but Constance's face, the poker face she did her best to keep, was gone. She looked terrified.

"Connie?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper, the tone pleading, begging her to deny whatever was to come next.

Tears tracked down her cheeks. "I'm so sorry. This is going to hurt, Tay," she said.

I stood up, dizziness threatening to topple me again. "I need to go to her," I said. "Connie. Where is she? What happened?" 
The tears were coming more quickly now, and I felt Dr. Roberts' arm wrap around my waist.

"She..." Connie stopped, and tried again. "She was assaulted. She, uh," She met my eyes and they were so sad. "She was raped. By Garret."

I had begun shaking my head the moment she started talking, and kept shaking it. My hands came up to grip my hair, and I tugged it, like I could pull out the words and the images they conjured. I kept my hands over my head, linking my fingers behind it, and covering my face with my elbows.

I could feel wetness on my face, and my heart breaking in my chest. "No," I whispered.

"NO!" I said louder, yelling now. "Where is she?! GODDAMNIT CONNIE! TELL ME!" I took a step toward her to shake the answers out of her.

Dr. Roberts gripped my shoulders with both hands. "Taylor," he said, "We are going to find her. And she is going to need you. She is going to need you boys like she's never needed anyone in her whole life before."

I stared at him, trying to process his words. His eyes watched mine and he nodded when he saw me listening again.  "So you go ahead," he said. "You rage and you scream and you cry. But I'm giving you ten minutes. Because in ten minutes we leave, and you will need all your focus and all your training for what's to come."


I pulled my hands away from my head and nodded.

"Ten minutes," he told me, indicating to Connie to leave the room. "This is an Academy room, so do what you need to do," he finished, holding the door open for Connie. She looked back at me, as if she was begging me to let her stay. But I didn't give her any sign I wanted that, and Dr. Roberts closed it shut with a click behind him.

I walked to the window, gripping the sill in both hands, and pressing my forehead against the cool glass.

Too slow.

I was too slow.

I felt the rage explode out of me and I swept my arms across the table that held glass jars of cottonballs and q-tips, relishing the crash and shattering of glass. I kicked the bed, and it jumped off it's runners and slammed into the wall. I kicked it again, over and over until it dented the wall and plastic handrails were cracked.

LYRIC! My heart screamed her name and I saw her beautiful face, looking up at me with trust and love.

Garret had taken something from us. He had hurt the person who had completed our family and given us hope and joy as we looked to the future. He had taken that like it was nothing, like it was his due, like he had every right in the world to it.

When I found Lyric, I would keep her wrapped up and safe from everything. She would never ever hurt again.

And Garret? 
I would kill him.