Chapter 10 #2
I keep up my rambling as we move, hoping that it’s reassuring. I lead her out into the med bay and deposit her onto the bed, her frame rigid. The siren finally turns off and my ears ring in its absence. Fucking hell, I’m going to have words for Ryan after this.
I close the door for good measure before grabbing a rolling stool and a med bag, my body going into autopilot.
If I let myself focus too hard on the way Freya’s still shaking, or the single tear that’s leaked from the corner of her eye, I’ll lose it.
Without the siren I can hear the low groaning that’s coming from her chest and Christ, she sounds like a wounded animal.
Fragments of memory start coming together, like a puzzle clicking into place. The way she doesn’t like being touched, how she never quite looks me in the eye.
I think I know what might help.
I spin toward a nearby drawer and dig around until I find the pair of ear defenders.
I take them back to her, my movements careful.
“I’m going to put these on you, okay?” I take her wrists, easing them away from her head until I can slide them into place.
A strand of hair gets caught on one side and I reach up to untangle it, tugging it free.
I was right to wonder. It’s like silk in my hands. Now that I’ve felt it once I just want to sink my fingers in and let it cascade over me like water.
I shake the thought away.
With the ear defenders secured and the siren turned off, Freya’s breathing evens out. I wait with her, nowhere else I need to be, until she finally opens her eyes.
“Hey there,” I say.
She blinks at me in confusion, looking around like she doesn’t know how she got here.
“Feeling a bit better?”
“Yeah… um… sorry… I just…” Her words are jumbled as she flexes her hands, easing them out of their clenched position.
“You’re okay.”
“S-sorry,” she says again.
“You don’t need to apologize.” I wheel myself back over to the set of drawers and find an oximeter and a blood pressure cuff. Her system’s been through a shock and I need to make sure she’s getting back to a baseline level. “Does that happen a lot?”
“Umm… sometimes.” She picks at a loose thread on her coat.
I pull her hand away and clip the oximeter to her finger.
Maybe I’m being too pushy, but I know from experience that being productive is the only way to release the tight, clawing feeling in my chest. “I’m, um…
just sometimes. With loud stuff, I get a bit…
” She goes to pull off the ear defenders but I stop her.
She’s still pale and I don’t want her getting overstimulated again.
Keeping her wrist in my hand I take her pulse, satisfied when it comes back level, same with her blood oxygen. I know the probe is giving me a reading, but something about feeling the flutter of it under my fingertips makes me sure.
She doesn’t say anything else until I start to slide the cuff up her arm. “Oscar,” she says, her voice steadier now. “I really am fine, you don’t need to do all this.”
“I didn’t realize you were an EMT too?” I tease, thrilled when she rolls her eyes at me.
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Your health isn’t ridiculous, Freya.” I look her in the eyes. She holds it for a second before her gaze drops back to her lap. “You just had a panic attack. I’m checking you over, and then I’ll take you home.”
“That’s really not necessary.” She frowns. “And it wasn’t exactly a panic attack, not really.”
I dip my head, searching her face for clues. “Then, what was it?”
She lets out a long sigh.
“I just have a hard time with that kind of stuff. Loud things or lights or whatever. It gets hard to focus.”
That was more than “hard to focus.” I’m trained to read between the lines, but I don’t know if I should say more. Maybe she doesn’t want people knowing… But wouldn’t it be worse to know and not tell her?
“Can I ask you something personal?” I decide to just come out with it. If she tells me to fuck off, then I’ll never bring it up again.
She tenses, and I curse myself for making her nervous again just as she was starting to relax. Her voice comes out questioning. “Okay?”
“Are you Autistic?”
There’s a pause where I don’t think she’s going to answer, but she nods, fast and without looking up. “I guess the meltdown was kind of a giveaway.” She huffs out a dry chuckle.
“I remember hearing something about it when we were kids. It only just clicked.”
“I wasn’t diagnosed when we were kids.” Her head lifts and I catch her frown.
“I dunno, I just remember your mom saying something to my mom.” They were asking about it in the school pick-up line, but they stopped as soon as I came close.
“Checks out. That was when she first started suspecting.”
“Probably.” I switch on the blood pressure reader, listening as it whirs to life and starts inflating around her arm. “Do you mind me knowing?”
She mulls it over for a second. “I don’t think so. I mean, it’s not a secret. Just don’t be weird about it.” She pins me with a glare, but her mouth gives a telltale twitch.
I grin. “I will do my best not to be weird about it.”
Once the machine spits out a reading, I nod and pack everything away, finally satisfied that she is really, actually okay.
“Alright then, Miss Malcolm.” I stand up, tucking the stool under the desk “You’ve got a clean bill of health. Let’s get you home.”
“I’m just going to walk back to the store. I’m fine, truly.”
“I really don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“I need to reopen.” She stands up.
“You need to rest.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
I know I’m being overbearing, but I can’t help it. I’m not usually like this. I can compartmentalize my work, letting it go once I’ve helped someone through a medical event—even if Freya insists this doesn’t qualify. It’s the only way to survive in this job.
But Freya’s not just work, and I need her to be alright.
She lets out a frustrated growl that shouldn’t be as cute as it is. “Fine. I’ll go home, but you’re not taking me.” She puts up a hand when I open my mouth to argue. “No. Besides, you’re busy here.”
Shit. She’s right. I can’t just take off. I gotta see the event through.
“Fuck, fine.” I scrub a hand through my beard. “But you call me the second you get home.”
“Oscar…”
“Just let me have this, okay?” I gesture for her phone. She reluctantly retrieves the device and unlocks it before handing it over. I input my number and send myself a text so I have hers.
The buzz in my pocket as the message comes through is like a little nudge. Here I am.
She gives me a reluctant half smile. “Thanks for your help.” I don’t miss the blush rising at the tips of her ears. “I’ll text you when I’m back.”
“Call.”
“Oscar—”
“Call.”
I don’t know why it’s so important to me to hear her voice, but a text isn’t going to cut it.
“Fine.”
She heads out with a wave, leaving me alone in the med bay. I huff out a long breath. I’d better get that call. Because if I don’t hear from her in the next hour, I’m knocking on every door in The Croft until I find her.
I am so fucked.