Learning | Jacob Frye x Reader |

Éveillé

Éveillé, Awake

"(Y/N)! Wake up!"

"Sir, please. She's unco-"

"You need to wake her up! She needs to be awake." I hear fragments of voices buzz around my head. Various calm voices and one not so calm. They were completely different voices, more importantly different people. My eye lids weigh heavily and prevent me from opening my eyes to source the voices. I lift my leg and wince in pain. My right thigh darted in pain. I instantly clutch my leg in excruciating pain.

"(Y/N)?" A voice, I assumed to belong to Jacob, says. A warm hand grabs my own left hand. The hand feels rough, cut and callused. I try to move my fingers, but my arm is numb. My whole body seems to be in a paralyzed state. I put all my focus in recognizing Jacobs hand, to distract my body from the pain.

"Miss (L/N)? Can you hear me?" I feel something sharp go into my leg. It causes my spine to angle upwards.

"Remain calm now, it was only anesthetic. Sir, could I please get you to hold her down?" I decide this would probably be a good time to open my eyes. I feel what I presume to be needles, continuing to pierce my skin in various locations. One in my other leg and then one in each arm. I feel Jacob's other hand on my shoulder. I struggle with opening my eyes. I pull my eyes open with all my facial force. My eyes open to bright artificial light. They temporarily blind me, but with a few moments my eyes adjust slightly. With my impaired vision, I see Jacob leaning over me. A women, who appears to be a nurse, starts to touch my face. I cringe at her touch and writhe in my place.

"(Y/N?) Can you hear me?" he says moving his eyes to my face to the needle in my leg. I nod my head and manage a faint smile. Jacob lets out a relived sigh and smile.

Jacob

(Y/N) smiles. I let a moment of relief escape me. Even though it was only a small smile, it was a smile. Her face was bruised, and she had a cut just above her eye into her left eyebrow. She also had a slight burn on her cheek. She starts to fidget in the nursing bed. The nurse frowns and tries to calm her down. I should've been around to help her, she took the hardest job alone. She shouldn't be lying in this bed. She was focused on helping people, the children, while I was too focused on killing Templars. My priorities seem to rearrange when there are Templars involved.

"Miss (L/N), please stop moving. The anesthetic will soon begin to take effect," the nurse says in a droll voice. I tighten my grip on (Y/N)'s small hand. I feel the raised scars on her hand, no doubt roughened regularly.

"Wh-" (Y/N) cuts herself off by her own coughing. I pick up a glass of water from the bedside table and help her drink it. The room goes silent, save the sound of metal instruments and other patients.

"Not too much water, she's going into theater soon," the nurse says looking down at some documents. (Y/N) chokes on her water and looks at the nurse.

"Theater?!" she says, in shock. I pull out my handkerchief and wipe the water off her. She mouths thank you. My cheeks burn slightly at the sight of her smile.

"(Y/N) they need to take the bullet out of your leg otherwise the bleeding is going to continue," I say as calmly as I could. I've had my fair share of bullet injuries and I'm sure that she has too, but it doesn't make them any easier. She smiles at me, as I realize that there was a tear rolling down her cheek. Even though I haven't known her for the longest period, I know she is a strong person and to see her cry is soberingly morbid. For her to be crying, she must be in incredible pain. I wipe away her tears with my thumb and flash her a reassuring smile. She laughs and tightens her grip on me. The nurse is called away by a doctor.

"(Y/N), I'm so sorry that you are in this bed. I'm sorry I let you go in that house alone, knowing full well the danger."

"Stop Jacob. You know as well as I do that this is what we do." She pauses and looks towards her leg. "And this is what happens. I was careless and wasn't on my guard."

"Still, had I been ther-"

"We would probably still be in this same situation. Whether it's me or you in this bed, it's still our job." I do understand her rationale, but it doesn't make the outcome any easier. "I guess it wouldn't be a great time for a smoke?" she says, smiling. I laugh at her untimely comment as the nurse who had returned didn't seem amused.

"After." It comes to my attention that I had my grasp around (Y/N)'s hand, and I had for some time now. As we stop talking (Y/N) begins to head in and out of consciousness. I look at the nurse and she leaves the room. When she returns, tall man who accompanies her. examines (Y/N) and nods at the nurse.

"She's ready. Prepare her for theater," he says. The old, tall surgeon signaled the orderlies. I look over (Y/N)'s frail figure.

"I'll be here the whole time (Y/N)" I say to the seemingly lifeless body. The men adjust the bed fitting and start to move her away.

"Sir, could you please let go of her hand." Out of pure momentary instinct, I gently kiss her hand and reluctantly let go of her. I watch the men start to move her away.

"I can take you to a waiting room. You can see her after her procedure," the nurse says bluntly.