Chapter 18 - Jules
I fucking hate this motherfucking hospital.
So many shit things have happened here. This is where they brought Reid after…
after. I can’t even bring myself to think about what he tried to do when we were thirteen, how powerless I felt when they took him away.
I’m barely hanging on here. I can't add those memories, those feelings, to the mix.
It will send me spiraling so hard there might not be a hospital left after I come down.
The harsh lights overhead, the smells and sounds of this place are like claws scraping down a blackboard in my mind.
I fucking hate it here. I hate that yet another person I love has come here…
broken. All the power and money in the world doesn’t mean shit when I can’t stop these things from happening.
It makes my tightly held control fracture, and it makes me feel…
feral to lose that. It scares me beyond reason - the thought of what would happen if I let that control escape me and let loose.
Things would be destroyed, people would burn.
So, I clamp it down and keep pacing the ugly tiles of the waiting room.
It's been hours since they took her from us, with only one quick update that told us she still lives. My gaze washes over the others and I clench my back molars to keep from cursing at the pain and fear they are all emitting. Waves of emotion that break against that control I hold so tightly. Elenor, Luna’s grandmother, clutches Reid’s hand tightly in hers like she knows he’s the one who needs the contact the most.
Torrin sits with elbows braced on his knees, his head held in his hands, and he hasn’t moved from that position since the nurse came out to tell us they had stabilized her.
Gage leans against a wall behind the seats with a dripping ice pack held against the broken skin and swelled knuckles of his right hand.
I think it was in the second hour of waiting that he punched the cinderblock wall, unable to contain the anguish inside.
I turn away and glance out the windows as the first blush of dawn streaks the sky. I should find it beautiful but I feel… nothing. Nothing matters, nothing is beautiful, if she isn’t in this world anymore.
“Luna Bolton’s family?”
The voice rings through the silent waiting room like a whip, causing all of us to flinch. Everyone pushes to their feet and turns to the doctor who called out. Elenor steps forward and raises her hand.
“Here!”
The doctor looks down at the chart he’s holding with a sigh and moves our way. He looks to each of us with a frown before settling his gaze on Elenor.
“Are you her immediate family?”
She pulls herself up to her full height, which at best is a little over five and a half feet, and lifts her head. She looks so resolute, and it dawns on me how strong she's been for us all since the accident.
“Yes, we all are. I'm her grandmother, Elenor Cowen. What can you tell us?”
He lifts an eyebrow like he doesn’t believe the rest of us are family, but slowly nods.
“Luna is currently stable and in recovery. It was touch-and-go for a few minutes but she is responding well to treatment. We did have to pump her stomach and put her on an IV. Now it's just a matter of time while the drugs are processed out of her system. She’ll need to be kept under observation but we believe she will recover physically. I am concerned thought as to her mental state. Can you tell me what may have prompted her to take these pills?”
Elenor breathes out slowly and I can almost see the strain of the last few hours leaving her body with the air.
“Yes, just over a month ago, we lost her parents and older brother in a car accident. It’s been very hard on her, to say the least.” She brushes her cherry red hair back with a shaking hand and then straightens further. “When can we see her? Is she awake?”
He pauses to look all of us over again before responding.
“She most likely won’t wake for a few more hours. I don’t know how good it would be for her to have all of you in her room. We wouldn’t want to overwhelm her when she’s in such a delicate state.”
Elenor waves his concern away with a brush of her hand. “When can we see her?”
The doctor’s frown deepens and he huffs out a frustrated noise. “I’ll have a nurse escort you once we have her settled into a room.”
As he walks away, finger by finger I slowly unclench the fists I’ve made of my hands for hours and try to flex the ache out of them. She’s alive, and I’ll do whatever it takes to see that she stays that way.