28. Chapter 28 #2
"It's becoming a normal occurrence, yes. Several months ago, she was able to recall all events. I've recorded a few episodes where she had no recollection."
She scribbles notes down on her paper and bristles—like I give a shit.
"Do you hear or see things that are not there?"
"Yes, no. I...maybe? They've been there almost all my life.” Sadie responds as fast as I about bit the woman's head off. It catches me by surprise—she acknowledged that they may not be real.
"When you hear or see these things, do they tell you to do bad things to yourself or people around you?" Doc moves on, not dwelling.
"Yes."
"Have you ever hurt someone other than yourself?"
The momentum fades again but I pick up the slack. Technically, the assault is an active investigation and she's not supposed to talk about it. Good girl.
"You'll need to speak with her lawyer about that."
"Why's that?" A light-colored brow lifts.
"Active investigation."
"Alright. What about yourself, do you have thoughts of hurting yourself more often than not?"
"Mostly."
"Do you have a plan?"
"A plan for what?" Sadie comes back sharply, only to realize what she asked. "No."
She scrawls more notes along the printed lines of her fancy paper while a run-of-the-mill hospital exists outside of the room.
First, it's Sadie's heart monitor I hear, then a metallic whine of cart wheels rolling down the hallway.
Somewhere else beyond the door, phones ring off the hook, an elevator chimes, and nurses laugh at their computers.
A normal day's work. Patients and family, diagnoses and med pass as Sadie and I sit in here with this strange woman, exposing her rawness and making her relive how her world has crumbled.
"Sorry about that. Let's move on. When you're home, do you have a support system?"
"Uhm, no."
"What do you mean? Mr. Sullivan is here with you. Is he not normally?"
Sadie tenses, then tries to pull her hand from mine, but I hold tight. "He is. The voices hate him though."
"Why is that?"
"He makes them go away."
"I see." She nods in my periphery as I stare at the curve of her nose. Some part of me knew my demons aggravated hers. Hearing her confirm it makes my gut clench with unease.
"And when he's not there?"
A cat catches Sadie’s tongue and darts through the veil. This isn't one I can answer. She’ll have to face this one on her own while tension ebbs like a rogue riptide crashing at our backs.
Please don't say it...
"I want to die."
Seventy-two hours.
That’s how long we have to stay here with nosey eyes and awkward glances.
I'm all for whatever it takes to help Sadie, but I sure would like to take her home.
After what her body has gone through, she needs comfort and less micromanaging.
We both see the microscope looming above her as people in white lab coats dissect her mind.
Uncertainty settled heavy in the room after the doc delivered her orders and left. Neither one of us spoke to the other for a couple of hours until I broke the silence and ordered food for her. Something light; didn't want to upset her stomach after not eating for several days.
On autopilot, Sadie inhaled the chicken broth and Jello dietary brought to the room.
I was tempted to order her a second helping, or a double for dinner, but she finally warmed up and got comfortable enough to fall back asleep.
Careful of her IV line and her blood pressure cuff, I tucked and wedged another blanket between her and the mattress—turned her into a damn burrito.
Of course, I took a moment to watch over her as tension melted out of her face and shoulders. It put me at ease, seeing her unguarded and asleep rather than medicated heavily enough she can't fight the pull of unconsciousness.
After she slipped into the fray and began to doze, my old habits kicked in.
I tidied up the room, put supplies where they go, fixed the couch and my single blanket, her bedside table, took the trash and tossed it into the bin.
I even managed to peek at my texts and put my laptop on the charger.
When it was all said and done, I changed into a different pair of jeans, a new black undershirt, and the dark grey flannel I stuffed into my bag before leaving Oregon.
Yeah, it’s wrinkled and has seen better days, but at least it’s clean.
Freshly dressed, I make my way over when I hear Sadie mumble. She’s still asleep, but a few words are trying to escape. Leaning over her, I stroke my fingers through her choppy hair, eager to hear more from her.
Joy spreads from my head down to my boot-hidden toes at the sound of her sleepy voice.
It's so unlike the woman I know. Raspy, full of soul, primed to belt a song so earth shattering it brings tears to your eyes.
Of every night I've slept tangled in the sheets with her, or the ones where I watched because I couldn't get phantom gunshots out of my ears, I've only heard this voice two or three times.
Like earlier, I graze my lips and my scruff along the soft skin at her temple. When one tender kiss isn’t enough, I tag her forehead next. I want to climb into this uncomfortable bed, ease her into my arms, and hold her until the damn things fall off.
Inhaling the deepest breath I can muster, Sadie pours into my lungs to fester and rot me from the inside out.
One more kiss is all I allow myself as it ghosts below her ear. I murmur with hope that she feels every ounce of weight the words carry.
"Don't you ever leave me."