𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈𝐓 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐀 𝐏𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄 // 𝘫𝘰𝘩𝘯 𝘣

𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚢-𝚎𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝

The next morning crept by slowly. The hours of the day blurred together, making 24 hours feel like weeks upon weeks. Affinity hadn't slept at all...her racing mind simply wouldn't let her. The aches and pains that throbbed throughout her body had now made it impossible to find comfort in the small, stiff chair she had sat in for hours straight. She knew that she should probably get up and walk around, eat, or maybe even go home to shower. But her heart refused to leave her father's bedside.

The sound of the monitor beeping beside her had become hypnotizing, causing her attention span to decrease. Her eyes were glued on the teasing green line of light that shot up and down, indicating that her father was in fact breathing, but every part of her needed him to be awake to truly believe that he was still with her. She was in such a different world that she didn't even notice that Doctor Wrede had walked into the room. It was only after he put his hand on her shoulder that she realized he was even in the room. The girl jumped slightly, then looking up at the man.

"Are you doing all right, Miss McCormick?" He asked kindly.

Affinity let out a sigh and shrugged. Her eyes lingered back to her father's pale face.

He walked around to the other side of the bed to read off a few numbers. "His vitals are stable. He's a fighter, I'm sure he will come back to us," he smiled.

"When will he wake up?" Affinity asked bluntly.

The doctor's smile dropped into a frown. "We still have no way of knowing. It could be days, months, unfortunately, maybe even years. But, the surgery to remove the bullet was successful. We will soon be able to determine his progress."

Affinity brows furrowed. "Is that why I couldn't see him for so long? Because he was in surgery?"

"Yes. It's a very delicate surgical procedure," he explained, taking a seat next to her. "Luckily, the bullet didn't collide with a very critical part of the brain, but due to the process of removal, your father will most likely be burdened with memory loss, motor and sensory impairments, and seizures." The doctor pulled out a black and white image of the outline of her father's brain from his clipboard. "We immediately conducted a CT scan to evaluate his condition and that is when we realized a state of comatose was right for recovery. Something called a hematoma was developing in the lower left side of his brain. Essentially, his body responded correctly and began to clot, but this meant we had to temporarily remove a part of his skull to relieve such pressure. Then, after we removed the bullet, the tissue should be able to heal on its own with only minor medical intervention, such as medications to avoid infection. Your father is a very lucky man, Affinity."

"Unless he doesn't wake up," she sniffled.

Doctor Wrede let out a sigh of disappointment. "I suppose so, yes. But I am truly hopeful."

Affinity's eyes stared coldly at the white hospital sheets that were draped over her father's body. "Aren't you supposed to tell everyone that?"

He rested a hand on Affinity's shoulder as he stood to his feet. "Never in my life have I seen a condition such as your father's, but I've also never seen someone fight so hard against an injury that's supposed to win the battle. I don't have to know a patient personally to know that they won't give up on their families. Now, we have to make sure we don't give up on them." He offered her a smile as he started out the door. He motioned to her blood stained clothes and skin. "Why don't you go home, get cleaned up, and eat something. It's the only way to keep herself sane."