Chapter 4 #3
Please remember. Please give me something that says this wasn’t all for nothing.
Something flickered there. Confusion bleeding through the wariness. Maybe pain. But no recognition.
The name meant nothing to him.
Didn’t remember saying it. Didn’t remember me.
My chest tightened. Of course he didn’t remember. Why would he?
His mouth opened.
Throat worked. Jaw moved, forming shapes. Lips parted, tongue moving behind teeth.
Nothing came out. Not even a whisper.
Tried again, more forcefully. Concentrating, willing sound to emerge. Cords straining in his neck, visible beneath skin.
Still nothing but air.
Frustration twisted his features, raw, visceral, the kind of emotion that couldn’t be faked.
Palm went to his throat. Fingers pressing on his larynx like he could force it to work. Checking. Testing. Needing to understand why his system betrayed him.
Those dark irises went wide, panic bleeding through wariness, confusion giving way to terror.
Oh god. He didn’t know. Didn’t know he couldn’t speak.
“Hey.” Kept my voice soft. Steady. “It’s okay. Your system’s been through hell. You nearly drowned, you have a fever, head trauma, speaking isn’t a priority right now.”
Tried anyway. Mouth forming a word, maybe my name, maybe “help,” maybe anything.
Desperation clear in every line of his frame, in the way his chest rose and fell faster, in how his fingers pressed harder on his throat.
Nothing.
Not even a rasp.
The silence between us was deafening.
“Listen to me.” Leaned forward slightly, keeping my movements slow. Non-threatening. “Your system went through something traumatic. Right now, you need to rest. You need to let yourself heal. Speaking can wait.”
Locked on mine. Searching. Not believing.
“I know it’s scary. I know you want answers. But pushing yourself right now will only make things worse. Your system needs time. You need to rest. To listen. To let me help you.”
One more time. Really tried, putting everything into it, his whole frame straining with the effort.
Nothing.
Watched it crash over his face. The full realization. This wasn’t temporary. Maybe. This wasn’t something he could force through will alone.
Chest rose and fell faster, breathing going shallow. Palm still pressed to his throat.
Something fierce and irrational surged in my chest. Cut through the exhaustion, the fear, the bone-deep certainty that I was failing.
“I’ll help you.” The words came out before I could stop them. Certain. Absolute. A promise I had no business making. “I don’t know what’s wrong yet. I don’t know how to fix it. But I’ll help you figure it out.”
Help him? Help him how? Couldn’t even figure out what was wrong. Couldn’t keep him stable. Couldn’t...
Didn’t change the promise.
Locked on mine. Searching for truth. For hope. For understanding.
Saw the question he couldn’t ask: How can you help me when I don’t even know what’s broken?
Valid question. No good answer. I didn’t have any answers.
But I didn’t look away. Couldn’t take back the promise even if I wanted to.
“Right now, you need to rest. Let yourself recover from the hypothermia, the fever, the blood loss. Let the antibiotics work. Then we’ll figure out the rest.”
Outside, wind howled through the industrial district. Snow still falling heavy, blanketing the world in white. Somewhere distant, a siren wailed, a reminder that the world continued while we were frozen in this moment.
Reminder that they were out there. Still hunting.
Inside, a man with no voice and no memory stared at a woman who’d just promised the impossible.
Both knowing the odds. Both knowing the danger.
His heart beat under the bandages I’d wrapped. His life in my keeping now, whether he trusted me or not, whether I knew what I was doing or not.
Whether I was strong enough or not.
Already crossed too many lines to turn back now. Already committed too many felonies. Already tied myself to his survival in ways I couldn’t untangle even if I wanted to.
And I didn’t want to.
Even knowing I was probably going to fail. Even knowing I was in over my head. Even knowing the smart thing would be to call for help, turn him in, save myself.
I didn’t want to.
Still on mine. Still wary. Still calculating. But something underneath shifted… maybe recognition of the determination in my voice, maybe understanding that he was stuck with me whether he liked it or not.
Maybe just exhaustion finally winning, pulling him back under.
Fluttered closed. Consciousness slipping away again, fever and blood loss and sheer physical trauma dragging him down.
But his breathing steadied. The panic eased from his features. Like some part of him believed me. Like some part of him was willing to trust this woman who’d dragged him from the snow, who’d stolen medical supplies, who’d made impossible promises in a freezing apartment while the world hunted him.
More trust than I deserved. More trust than was smart.
Remained there, palm hovering near his, not quite touching. Watching his chest rise and fall. Counting heartbeats. Making plans I had no idea how to execute.
The radiator clanked weakly. Snow tapped on windows. Dawn was a few hours away.
And I had work to do.
My frame protested when I tried to stand. Everything hurt. Everything shook. Had to brace on the mattress to get upright.
But I did. Got up. Checked his vitals again. Tucked the covers tighter around him, the apartment still too cold, his system still too fragile. Changed the compress on his forehead. Adjusted the IV drip.
Kept working because that’s all I knew how to do.
Let the police search. Let whoever put those surgical scars on his neck come hunting. Let them come.
I’d figure something out.
I had to.