Octavius (WATTYS 2016)

part two | three | castaway

"Dr. Sanchez, I thought you said the visions were going to go away?" 

The sound of Octavius' voice brings me groggily from my sleep, and I try to refocus my eyes by blinking them furiously. 

"Alpha Octavius, I mean no offense, but I did say it would take time." Dr. Sanchez answers cautiously, trying to avoid an alpha-sized outburst. 

I can hear Octavius' slight growl, more out of frustration than of anger. Tilting my head up, I watch as he runs both hands through his messed-up hair, his eyes squeezed shut.

"Is there anything you can do?" He pleads, opening his eyes in a squint.

"I'm afraid not. When the attack first ended, we couldn't give her any medication because of her pregnancy, but even now it could be risky, given just how fragile her state is. She's strong, Alpha, but some of that strength is very brittle."

"Just-Just..." Octavius stutters, his anger growing slightly. I hold my breath, praying that he doesn't explode in front of a hospital full of patients and nurses. "I need her to get better. Soon." 

Why so soon? What's soon? I think to myself, confusion causing a frown to settle on my face. 

"Alpha, please, I am working round the clock to find a solution. But you both endured a traumatic experience, and that takes time and patience." 

"Those are two things you know I don't have, Dr. Sanchez." Octavius growls through gritted teeth.

What the hell is he talking about? I perk up my ears, straining to hear the conversation more clearly. A slight tickle crawls to my sinuses, and I struggle to hold back a growing sneeze.

"It's approaching and we need to make sure she's ready for-"

And like the bitches they are, my sinuses decide to react at this very moment. 

And it wasn't one of those cute little squirrel sneezes. Oh no. It was a volcano. 

"HACHOO!" I sneeze, sitting up with a jolt and a groan. I open my eyes to see a nurse next to me with a box of tissues and both Octavius and the Dr.'s eyes are on me. 

Great. 

I blow my nose, taking more time than needed, wanting to postpone Octavius' conversation with me. I knew how it would go, all 'are you okay?' and 'you had me so worried." And right now, I'm not in a place to handle that. 

But of course, like the dutiful mate he is, Octavius comes bounding over to me, placing a hand on the small of my back and rubbing my skin in small circles. 

"You're awake." He mutters, breathily.

"No shit, sherlock." I mumble under my breath. I run a hand through my slightly greasy hair, and I am dying to dive into a bath of soaps and suds. 

"Alessandra, are you-"

"I don't know, Octavius." I interrupt, snapping my head up in his direction with an annoyed pout. His eyes are surprised, and he steps back from me, his hand leaving my back.

"I'm sorry, I was just-" He starts, raising his hands up.

"Then don't." I whisper. I know I'm being a juvenile bitch right now, but I'm so sick of waking up in this hospital room, seeing the ugly and grey wall above my head with the unevenly placed speckled pattern. I'm so sick of the itchy tag of the hospital gown scratching against the back of my neck. I'm so sick and fucking tired of this shit happening to me. 

"Alessandra-" Octavius tries again.

"Where is my son?" I snap, getting ready to stand up from the bed, only to have Octavius push me back into it.