Something From Nothing

Please

Achilles Morgan

Seconds turned into minutes, minutes turned into hours, and somewhere in the early hours of the morning, I found myself in the exact same hospital bed I had been forced into when we arrived at the hospital three weeks prior.

The hospital room was as devoid of beauty as I was of hope. Its walls were simply cream, not peeling or dirty, just cream. There was no decoration at all save the various posters about washing your hands and how to stay safe from STDs.

Perhaps once it was the kind of blue that reminded people of springtime and hope, but the color had long since faded, so much so that the hue was insipid. The room was an undertone of bleach that had first been strong enough to make my eyes water and the floor was simply grey. At the left side of the room, there were various large windows in silver metal frames, only openable at the top. There were stands for intravenous drips and monitors. At the door were dispensers for rubber gloves, hand sanitizer, and soap.

 I hated it.

Demi and Alison were sat wrapped in each other's arms in the uncomfortable looking armchair on the left side of my bed and I envied the peace they had at that moment. 

They weren't alone.

They had each other.

The pair had been tasked with babysitting me for now, to stop me from doing anything stupid.

Outside of my little white sterile room, others had come and gone from the hospital. Been seen, healed and sent home with some little pills to subdue their pain.

No medication would be able to offset the brain-numbing turmoil I was currently in. They tried though. When we were rushed into the large hospital Logan's limp body went one way and my broken one went another. All the doctors that had surrounded me as they poked and prodded at me, pumping me full of various medications and sedatives.

They had to sedate me for that first week because I wouldn't let them do their job, thrashing around like a mental patient in hopes that somehow that would get me closer to the Prince that was slowly dying somewhere else in the hospital.

Somehow they'd managed to fix my leg. It would never heal properly and I would most likely always walk with a limp as the nurse had told me but I would still have full functionality. Same with my arm, I would always feel the remnant effects but it would still work normally. As for the rest of my abrasions, they had been cleaned and stitched up, simply healing to add more scars to my already destroyed body.

I didn't care about that. Not the pain, not the side effects, nothing. All I could focus on was that growing ache in my chest where I felt that bond that connected two mates dim ever so slightly each day. I feared the day it would disappear completely.

Today was supposed to be the day I was discharged but I didn't want to leave. Even if the cleanliness of the hospital room made my skin crawl and the scent of disinfectant burnt my nose at least here I was as close to my mate as I could get.

I was currently anticipating an update of Logan's condition. I had received one twice a day ever since I was awoken from my sedated state and it was always the same words that my friend and the doctors told me.

No change.

The cold hard truth that there would never be a change made bile rise up in my throat.

"Achilles?" Not willing to take my eyes away from my the window, I didn't bother turning towards the voice. I remained silent and focused. It had been weeks since I'd spoke and I wasn't even certain that my voice still worked.