4. Chapter Four
Chapter Four
Kat
I’d made a terrible mistake. I was attached to an IV, trapped, with a wildly inquisitive teenager asking me questions I didn’t want to answer, in TWO languages. That was on me. Now I just needed to muddle through.
“So, I know some stuff. Sort of. I know you and Henry are both pretty hurt… and that it happened at the same time?” he started. That was less of a question than he made it out to be. I nodded. Realizing that was all he was going to get out of me on that one, he continued.
“That night, Henry ended up in the hospital, and you weren’t there when Andrew got there?
” he asked next. I sighed. That one was fair enough, but it would need words to answer.
I took a moment. Another tear slipped out.
I’d jokingly mentioned needing a saline drip too from how much I’d been crying, but they had decided to take me seriously.
Between the crying, puking, not eating, not drinking enough water, they probably weren’t wrong.
“I…” I started. Great start. One word, trailing off. Fucking stupid. This wasn’t even that big of a deal.
“I went to find a phone to call Tam, who could call Andrew and Henry’s family.
I didn’t have my phone or wallet or anything.
I figured asking the ER for a phone was the wrong move, they were busy.
But I was too far for anyone to know who I was when…
” I trailed of again, letting a sob free.
This part HAD really sucked. It was just…
not as important as a lot of the rest of it.
“When I collapsed,” I finished softly. This time, Milo did cover my hand with his. And didn’t move it. I wasn’t entirely mad about that. I hadn’t really… talked about this. But this part, I could talk about. A little. It was just the BEFORE I couldn’t talk about.
“So, Andrew called you a cunt because you lost too much blood too fast for his liking?” Milo asked, mostly curious with only a tiny tinge of disbelief at Andrew. I snorted.
“No, Andrew called me a cunt because he got there, I wasn’t there, I hadn’t been admitted to the hospital, and Henry was… upset,” I finished, realizing as much as I wanted to tell him my side, this was Henry’s teammate. I wasn’t going to share those things on his behalf. That was his to choose.
“But you just said, you collapsed. I kind of assumed you’d been found,” he said slowly, not asking a question but still needing an answer. I laid back a little, pulling my blanket over me. Even with the jacket, the IV always made me so fucking cold.
“I was admitted as a Jane Doe, because no one knew who I was. And when I came out of emergency surgery I… didn’t come out of the anesthesia well.
They’d sedated me. It took five days to wake up cleanly,” I said really softly, looking down at my lap now.
I wasn’t sure I wanted to talk about this part.
“So, tell him that. Right?” he pressed. I looked up at the ceiling, laughing slightly, while the tears still fell.
“He jumped straight to calling me a cunt, told my friends I wasn’t in that hospital when he hadn’t asked about anyone without a name matching my description, and I woke up alone in the hospital after five days because of it.
And spent another couple alone while my friends worked their way out there from the US.
So, I’m not necessarily inclined to explain anything to him,” I said bitterly.
I hadn’t really realized I’d blamed Andrew for that until this moment.
“But if you want to fix it-“ he started. I cut him off.
“Who says I want to fix it? He told me not to come back. That I wouldn’t be missed, that no one wanted me, and called me a cunt several times. What the fuck is there to fix?” I asked, very bitter now. He paused for a moment, because I was right.
“Okay, well tell me what happened, then. In the hospital,” he probed gently. I didn’t need to tell him. But I was feeling some sort of way about all of this. A little angry, a little indignant, a little disbelieving, and a lot hurt. A LOT hurt.
“They finally figured out how to bring me out of sedation without screaming. I woke up all alone. I had no idea where I was. I was terrified Henry had died. And I had to call my friends and ask for help. Then sit there and wait, while the hospital staff continued to not believe me when I told them I didn’t need a sexual assault kit,” I bit off, trying not to make Milo feel like I was mad at HIM. I hadn’t even met him at that point.
“Well, you do have injuries from cuffs, so I can see where they were going. But it should’ve been obvious to them that you did it yourself, your right is way worse than your left.
If someone else had done it, it would be much closer to even,” he observed, cutting me down at the knees.
I felt all of the blood drain out of my face.
The panic was setting in. I could feel it starting to freeze my limbs, my mind.
“Don’t-why-how-is it that obvious?” I finally settled on, whispering.
The wise, pitying glance I received was somehow surprising, and not surprising at all.
People wrote Milo off because he was happy and excited and couldn’t speak English super well.
That all put together had people assuming he was a dumb, happy little kid.
But he was on this team, as a rookie, at eighteen last year. And if they spoke to him in Spanish, they’d realize the issue was the English. And being happy didn’t mean a damn thing. I was always sad nowadays, did they judge me? Well, probably, actually. But anyway.
“It is to me, Gatita. But I doubt it is to anyone else. Most others don’t know enough or won’t think of it. And the ones that would know, that I think you care about knowing the most, can’t see it clearly enough. Too many emotions surrounding everything,” he said carefully, in a very gentle voice.
He knew. He KNEW. But did he… fully know? I didn’t… I couldn’t ask. But I needed to know. This… this felt like a mistake. This conversation. This connection. I shouldn’t have done it. Fuck. FUCK.
“Kat, look. I’m not going to mention this to anyone, don’t worry.
But I’d just like to say that your wrists, and likely your other injuries I’m not going to ask about right now, show who you are.
More than anything else does. Because you FOUGHT, Kat.
And my guess, considering I’m one of few people Henry’s let see with his shirt off lately, my guess is that you fought for HIM.
I get why you’d hide that. You, specifically I mean.
But for what it’s worth, I don’t think you should,” he finished, patting my hand gently.
I didn’t know what to say to that. So, he DID know, know. I didn’t need to give him an answer anyway, it seemed. He got up, stretching a little.
“I need to go run tape. But I think you’d feel a little better, talking to him about this. He might surprise you.” I laughed.
“Andrew? I don’t think so,” I stated firmly. He shook his head.
“No, Henry.”
Pfft. Who asked him anyway.