Chapter 41
Gunnar sat in the stiff vinyl chair beside Mattie’s hospital bed, elbows on his knees, staring at her pale face under the soft lighting. Outside, dawn was breaking, but the blinds were down, keeping the room dim.
He’d changed into the clothes he’d left in his truck, which had been brought to him by Birdie. He’d thanked her and sent her home, even though she’d offered to sit with him.
This was his doing. Mattie was here because of him. It was his job to stay.
The room smelled of antiseptic. Monitors beeped in steady rhythm, tracking her heart rate, oxygen levels, and a few other things. But what he really wanted to see was her eyes open.
She’d been stable since coming out of the ER, where she’d been warmed up, had fluids run, and her head wound cleaned, stitched, and bandaged.
But it was hours later now, and she still hadn’t stirred.
Gunnar felt as helpless as he ever had in his life. He hated the feeling.
A soft knock pulled his attention to the door. A woman entered.
“I’m Dr. Ellis, the neurologist on call,” she said as she came in, chart in hand. She was a no-nonsense woman in her fifties, wolf shifter by scent. She glanced at Mattie, then at Gunnar, who gave her a nod.
“Mr. Briggs,” she said quietly, standing on the other side of the bed. “I understand you’ve been here since they brought her in. I wanted to update you myself.”
“Thanks,” Gunnar said, throat tight. “Why isn’t she waking up?”
Dr. Ellis set the chart on the side of the bed.
“She’s had a combination of hits to her system, and her brain is protecting itself right now.
First, the head trauma. When she hit the rocks, she sustained a moderate concussion with some localized swelling.
We did a CT scan in the ER, which showed no bleed or skull fracture, but there’s edema around the impact site.
That alone can cause prolonged unconsciousness as the brain tries to heal without more pressure building. ”
She paused, letting that sink in. Gunnar sat back and flexed his hands on his thighs, knuckles white. He didn’t like any of this.
“Second,” she continued, “she was submerged in very cold water. Even though you got her out fast and she responded to CPR, there was a period of hypoxia.”
“Oxygen deprivation,” he whispered.
“Yes. And a near-drowning like this often leads to what’s called anoxic brain injury. The brain cells that got starved of oxygen shut down temporarily. It’s like the whole system goes into a protective coma to limit further damage while it repairs.”
“So that’s what’s going on? She’s in a protective coma?”
“I believe so. Rewarming and rebuilding take energy, and her body is prioritizing that over consciousness right now.”
Gunnar stared at Mattie’s hand where it lay limp on the blanket, fingers pale against the white sheet. “How long?”
“Hard to say exactly.” Dr. Ellis’s voice softened, even though it stayed professional.
“With the head injury and the anoxic element, it could be hours, but it could also be a day or two. We’ve got her on meds to reduce swelling, along with some mild sedation to keep her comfortable and prevent seizures, and we’re monitoring intracranial pressure closely. ”
He nodded, out of words.
“The good news is her vitals are stable. There’s no fever, no arrhythmias. The fact that she responded to resuscitation so quickly is in her favor. But brains heal on their own timeline. We watch. We wait. We support.”
Blueberry, who was perched in the niche behind Mattie’s bed, let out a little sigh, his wings drooping. Gunnar reached out and covered Mattie’s hand with his, carefully, like he was afraid he might somehow add to her injuries.
“She’ll wake up,” he said, more to himself than the doctor, his voice coming out low and rough.
Dr. Ellis picked up her chart. “We’re doing everything we can. She’s young and healthy.” She gave him a small smile. “I’ll be back in a couple hours to check the next scan. Call the nurse if anything changes.”
She pointed at Blueberry. “And you don’t let any of the human nurses see you.”
The imp nodded like he’d been yelled at.
Dr. Ellis left, the door clicking shut behind her.
Gunnar didn’t move. He just sat there, thumb tracing slow circles over Mattie’s knuckles, listening to the monitors and the faint whistle of her breathing through the nasal cannula.
Blueberry fluttered down to settle on the pillow near her ear, whispering something too soft to catch. He looked exhausted and a little broken.
Gunnar understood. He felt the way the imp looked. His heart hurt. His soul ached. Grief and guilt racked him.
This was his doing. Mattie might hate him when she woke up. She’d have every right to.
He swallowed, trying not to let his emotions get the best of him, but he’d never been in a situation like this.
Why hadn’t he been the one injured? That would have been fair. He sat back and sniffed, then got to his feet, too upset to sit still. He went to the window and pulled the blinds aside to look out. The sun was nearly up. People were going about their business like nothing had happened.
The door opened behind him. He turned to see Alice walk in.
He didn’t say anything. He was too upset.
Alice stood by Mattie’s bedside, staring down at her. “How is she?”
He shrugged. “In a coma.”
“I’m very sorry to hear that.”
“I guess you came for the amulet.” He went to his bag that held his wet clothes and unzipped it, digging out his jeans. The amulet was still in the pocket.
“I came to see how she was. To see if there was anything either of you needed.”
He held the amulet out. “What I need is for her to wake up and be okay.”
She took the amulet, slipping it into the pocket of her cardigan. “I understand. You don’t want me here.”
“I don’t want to be here. And she wouldn’t be here if not for me. So you’ll excuse me if I’m not in the best mood right now.”
Alice nodded. “This will pass. I’ll leave you.”
He shook his head, his feelings too jumbled to come up with words. The door closed behind her, and he was alone with Mattie again.
He sat down, resting his head on the edge of the bed. With every fiber of his being, he wanted her to get well. To come back to him. And if at all possible, not to hate him.
He took a deep breath, trying not to break down. “I’m so sorry, Mattie. I wish none of this had ever happened.”
Gunnar bolted upright, unsure of where he was.
His own bed. In his own house. He hadn’t remembered falling asleep at the hospital. And he definitely didn’t remember coming home. Or had someone brought him? Again, he didn’t remember.
He got up, finding he was in his usual sleep pants, and went into the kitchen. He looked out the window. His truck was parked in its usual spot.
How was any of this possible?
“You’re up!” Blueberry buzzed into the kitchen. “Can we have pancakes?”
Gunnar scrubbed his hand over his face. He needed coffee. But first, maybe a conversation with the imp would help. “How did we get back here?”
“You made a wish and—”
“I didn’t make a wish.” Was he dreaming? It didn’t feel like he was dreaming.
“Yes, you did.” Blueberry crossed his arms, his wings going a mile a minute. “You said you wished none of this had ever happened.”
Gunnar stared at the imp, trying to remember that, but it was all a blur. Like trying to grab smoke. “That wasn’t a wish. That was …”
Blueberry nodded, a happy little smile on his face. “Oh yes, that was definitely a wish.”
“But I … I don’t remember.” He shook his head, trying to make sense of it.
“Well, you wouldn’t. Because it didn’t happen.”
“What? No.” He did remember some of it. Like the falls, the amulet, and Mattie hitting her head. A bad feeling started to creep into him. “So what has happened?”
“Nothing. For your purposes, you’ve just released me from the box of chocolates.”
“But it’s daytime. That happened at night.”
The imp shrugged. “So the details are a little off. That happens sometimes in wish-granting. Mostly in wish-undoing that involves time resets. You still got what you asked for.”
He blinked, thinking that through. It felt a little like he was in an episode of Time Traveling Accountant. Time shifts weren’t always smooth for Adrian Ledger either. “Is Mattie still in the hospital?”
“You remember that?”
“Yes, I do.” He remembered all of it, he thought. Except for making that last wish.
“Huh. Well, that happens too, sometimes. Emotional episodes often leave a lasting impression with the wishee.”
“The wishee? Never mind.” Hearing more wasn’t going to help. “Do I have any wishes left?”
“Yep. Three. The ones you earned for getting me out of that bag. You want to use one right now?”
“No.” Was there such a thing as a wish that went right?
“Great. Now how about those pancakes?”
“There’s no time for pancakes. I need to go see her. Make sure she’s all right.”
Blueberry let out a huge sigh and hovered directly in front of Gunnar’s face. “Do I need to speak more slowly? None of that ever happened.”
“Yeah, I get that. So she’s not hurt?”
Blueberry rolled his eyes. “Never was. And you understand you can’t go see her?”
He didn’t understand that at all. “Why not?”
“Because, you silly shifter. She has no idea who you are.”