SMOTHERED LIES

thirty (Raine)

It is a strange thing to see a man so strong lying broken in a hospital bed. It clashes with everything you've ever thought of them and produces a dreadful sense of hopelessness that is almost overwhelming. With what chance does it leave you, if a man with far greater strength can be wounded like this?  

Three nurses had entered the hospital room and attached Jamie to a series of monitors, wiped the excess blood from his hair, face, torso. They'd praised me on my attempt to stop the blood from the bullet wound and asked if I'd had any training at all. I hadn't answered. One nurse, her dark hair pinned back, a pale blue uniform clothing her body, asked if I wanted to use the shower. I'd agreed.

I hadn't felt the water as it sought out my wounds and rinsed them away. I just stood there, staring unseeingly at the opaque shower screen. "We brought you a towel and a change of clothes, Miss." The same nurse called over the sound of the water and Jamie's monitors.

I supposed they were talking to me. Twisting off the taps I stood for a moment longer, watching the last of the water coast down the drain.

"Miss?"

The linoleum floor was cool beneath my bare feet as I stepped out of the cubicle. Folded on the plastic table in front of me were a thin, faded blue towel and a small pile of clothes. I proceeded to pat my numb limbs dry, pulling on the dark track pants and jumper; the white socks and thin shoes. Together they provided little warmth against the frost like cold hanging in the air.

Jamie had regained a bit of colour to his skin by the time I returned to the cushioned seat by his bed. His wounds weren't quite as potent, and the worst of them had been bandaged. "He'll be asleep for a while." The nurses were finishing the last of their fussing.

"Do you know where Aspen or Adele are?" My voice was hoarse and broken, but all three nurses stopped, exchanging glances and murmuring suspiciously between themselves. Finally the dark haired nurse spoke up. "I'm afraid we can't release specific information at this point in time."

She knew more than she was telling me.

"Now, Mr. Owen's need some rest; we suggest you do the same."

And then they'd gone.

***

The harsh light on the ceiling reflects off everything; the white walls, the white furniture, the lightly coloured floor, making Jamie, and everything else in the room appear far paler than it really is. There isn't a clock in the room, but I'd estimate he's been asleep for at least two hours now. I needed to see the girls; I had to know that they were okay. I look at Jamie. His caramel hair rests casually across his forehead, his strong jawline relaxed. 'He won't be awake for a while' the nurse had said. So I make the decision. The pillow falls from my lap as I stand from the chair. As quietly as possible I tread to the doorway; hidden from my view by the navy curtain. The metal handle is smooth against my palm as I grasp it firmly, pushing the curtain halfway across the glass wall.

"Raine?"

My name echoes throughout the room, as though spoken by at least ten voices. Blue eyes hold mine as I turn, Jamie's eyes. I let go of a breath I hadn't realised I was holding, as I register that he's all right.

"How do you feel?" I rasp, sinking back into the armchair.

His brow furrows in concern...or perhaps he's just amused at my poor excuse of a voice. "Better than you sound."

Not quite sure which, I brush his comment off, "I'm fine."

He hands me the glass of water on his beside table. "Drink."

Perhaps he is genuinely concerned then?

He takes back the glass after I've finished, filling it with more water from the jug and chugging that back himself. "You sounded terrible." He laughs, clearly amused.