2. Grace

Chapter two

Grace

S ounds filtered through my brain, slipping away before I could grasp what they were. Why was it so noisy in my room? Was that an alarm? I reached up to rub my eyes, and my hand met resistance halfway to my face. I blinked my eyes open and saw a thin tube taped to the back of my hand. What the hell? I blinked dully, looking around the room; not my room as I’d thought, but what looked like… a hospital? The alarm picked up, and I realized it was my heart rate. I was attached to a monitor or something, the clip on my finger connecting to one of the screens behind the bed. Why am I in a hospital? Had there been an accident?

I tried desperately to remember what had happened, but my memory was blank. Looking around again, I was a little shocked to find that I was completely alone in here. Where is Shen? What is going on? I sat up and gasped as pain wrenched through my chest, threatening to split me in half. Falling back into the bed, I struggled to breathe, my lungs refusing to take more than a sip or two of air at a time. It felt like I’d been crushed.

“He-help,” I wheezed, and my throat burned as though I’d tried to swallow a cheese grater. Stark panic began to flood my veins, and the machine behind me set off a cacophony of alarms as I struggled to breathe, tears running down my face as my consciousness wavered. The door opened, and two women in scrubs burst in, looking concerned. One of them checked the machines behind me while the other tried to calm me down, murmuring words that I couldn’t hear over the ringing in my ears. My attention was dragged back to the door, and my brother stalked inside, his dark hair messy and his shirt wrinkled. I stared at him, looking at the deep gouges in his face, like someone had raked their nails across his face.

No… no… I shook my head, my stomach heaving when he glanced down at me, the corner of his lips curving up in a twisted, private smile. I turned back to the nurse and grabbed her hand, clutching it tightly as her eyes widened in alarm. “He-l-” The words wouldn’t come, every exhale hurt so badly I began to choke. A prick in my arm made me flinch, and I glanced up at the second nurse as she backed away quickly, a syringe in her hand.

Please, don’t make me fall asleep again. Something’s very, very wrong . I pleaded with her, my mouth opening and closing as I tried to force out a sound, any sound. The world dulled, and my eyelids grew heavy. I lowered down onto my pillow, sinking back into the bed as the quiet enveloped me once more.

Someone was holding my hand, stroking a little pattern across the back of it. I smiled softly, feeling fuzzy, but that was okay. My eyes focused slowly. Someone in a white coat was standing beside the bed, talking to me, I think ? They weren’t looking at me, and I focused on his lips, trying to decipher what he was saying.

“-mind you watch her around the stairs for a bit, she might be a bit unbalanced while she adjusts to the medication.” His words took a while to register in my brain, and I looked over at the person holding my hand. It was Doug of course, it was always Doug. He smiled at me, nodding along with what the doctor was saying. I opened my mouth, wanting to ask why I was in the hospital, but my tongue wouldn’t obey my commands. Doug patted my hand lightly.

“Don’t try to talk, alright Gracie? Your throat is damaged. They had to pump your stomach.”

I frowned, who was ‘they’? Why did my stomach need pumping? As soon as a thought took shape, it floated away, leaving me drifting and confused.

“Don’t worry sweetheart, I’ll be taking you home really soon.” Doug grinned, giving my hand a squeeze.

I nodded quietly, wondering why my stomach clenched at the thought of going home with him. He stood up and followed the doctor out of the room, leaving me alone with the noisy machines behind me. I looked over at the window, wondering what day it was. How long have I been here? My mind drifted, my eyes drifting shut.

The door clicked open, and I blinked as a nurse walked over, checking the machines. I wondered why he was wearing a face mask. Was I sick? He turned suddenly, and a pair of golden eyes met mine, sparking a brief flicker of recognition before it fizzled away. He blinked and grabbed my hand, checking the tubing taped to it. I winced when something stung me, and I realized he’d just taken my IV out, dropping my hand back into my lap and busying himself with something on the machines again. Was I going home now? I yawned, my eyes beginning to close again.

“Kitten, this might be uncomfortable, I need you to just lay as still as you can, alright? And keep your eyes closed.” He took all of the pillows off the bed and lowered me flat on my back. Then, of all things, he pulled the sheet up and over my head, so my face was covered.

“Wh-” I croaked, and suddenly everything got very, very heavy, and a chill sank through my bones. Everything was tingling, like all of my limbs were falling asleep at once. Was my heart still pumping? I didn’t feel right. Was this death?

The bed was moving, I could feel myself rolling down the hallway, but it sounded very far away. I was slipping… slipping away…

My stomach heaved, and I rolled, gagging as the pain wracked through my body. Why did everything hurt so bad? Was I dying? I curled up into myself, glass shards digging into every joint, every breath burning my lungs. Someone stroked my hair, and I clawed out at them weakly. I don’t want to be touched anymore, I don’t want anything, just let me sleep. Please.

Pain lanced through my arm, and I whimpered, thrashing as someone gripped my shoulders. No, not again! I screamed, the sound tearing through my already flayed throat. I wrenched out of their grip and swung, connecting with something and eliciting a grunt of surprise. Arms wrapped around me, pinning me from behind. Something small and round was forced past my lips, and I thrashed, ignoring how every muscle in my body felt like it was tearing apart as I struggled.

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry,” someone murmured in my ear as my nose was pinched closed, forcing me to swallow whatever had been jammed in my mouth. I coughed and wretched, my struggles growing weaker as the small amount of strength I had bled out of me, and the world around me faded out once more.

My eyes felt like they were glued shut. I rubbed at them, my lashes crusted over with dried tears. I blinked them open cautiously, wincing at the painfully bright light emanating from the nearby lamp. I’d been hit by a truck, I was sure of it. It was the only explanation for why my body felt the way it did. Rolling over, I pulled myself toward the edge of the bed and heaved my legs out, promptly landing in a heap on the floor. The cool hardwood floor felt nice on my skin, and I stayed there for a minute, trying to get my bearings.

Where am I? I put my arms on the bed and used it to pull myself up, my legs like jelly as I fought to steady myself. The room… it wasn’t mine. I wasn’t at home. I didn’t recognize anything here. So where the fuck am I? I took a tentative step and promptly doubled over as a sharp wave of pain rippled through my abdomen. What fresh hell is this now?

Staying hunched over, I leaned on the bed for support as I limped forward, aiming for the door that looked as though it led to a bathroom. It took ages to cross the six or so feet between the bed and my destination, and with each step, the pain grew more insistent, my knees shaking with the effort to stay upright. I tensed when I heard footsteps, and then the click of a door opening nearby.

I lunged across the last few feet, half-throwing myself into the bathroom. I heard a strangled yell as I slammed the door shut behind me, scrambling to lock it. I sighed with relief and slid down to the floor, catching my breath as someone rattled the door handle above me. I dragged myself away from it when they started to pound on the door, biting my lip to fight off the whimper building in my tender throat as the cramps grew worse.

“Unlock the door, Grace,” a man’s voice called out, and I cringed, pulling myself across the tile until my back hit the far wall. I shook as a fist pounded on the door, the hinges rattling as I prayed they would hold. Another lance of pain across my abdomen had me choking out a moan, curling up with my cheek pressed against the floor. Something trickled across the inside of my thigh, and I brought my fingers down to check, my head spinning when they came back bloody. My period was way too early and it never hurt this bad.

The pounding on the door ceased abruptly, and I heard some muffled voices on the other side of the wall. So there were more of them, whoever they were. I had to get out of here. I looked around the small bathroom, but there were no windows I could climb out of, nothing I could hide in—I was trapped here. I wrapped my arm around my waist, sobbing as a fresh wave of cramps had me convulsing.

A click echoed across the bathroom, and I glanced up to see the door open a crack. They’d gotten past the lock already, I was out of time. To my surprise, a woman’s face peered inside, transforming into a look of horror when she caught sight of me on the floor. “Oh my god!” she exclaimed, and burst inside, dropping to her knees beside me.

“Don’t-” I bit out, my voice barely a croak as I batted her hand away from my face. Her long black hair tickled my cheek as she bent over me, her hands held out, itching to reach for me .

“My name is Wren, I just want to help,” she explained softly. “I promise, I’m not going to hurt you.” Her hands fluttered around my side, and I groaned as the cramps worsened, the ache spreading down my thighs. “Goddamn those idiots, they weren’t thinking,” she muttered, and I felt her fingers smoothing down my hair as I ground my teeth, waiting for the wave to pass.

“I think I’m dying,” I rasped, a tear rolling down my cheek.

“No, but damn near it,” she replied sadly, shaking her head. “I’m going to run you a bath, okay? The heat should help with the cramps. Can my sister come in and help? Would you be okay with that?” I looked up at her face, trying to figure out if this was just another trick of some sort. But I didn’t think Douglas knew anyone named Wren, so maybe it would be okay. A bath sounded better than this hell at least. I nodded dully and closed my eyes, listening to the sounds of her preparing it, her footsteps leaving, and two sets returning.

“What the fuck-” someone hissed, and another voice shushed them quickly.

“She’s fragile, don’t spook her!”

“She looks half-dead, she’s spooking me!”

I blinked my eyes open and frowned, convinced I was seeing double. Two Wrens stood above me, wearing identical expressions of horror. One of them quickly tied her hair back in a messy bun, while the other just stood there, gaping at me.

“I need to sit you up, is that okay?” the nearer one asked, and I nodded, pushing myself off the floor as her hands guided me up. They weren’t the same person, now that I was looking. The second Wren had a streak of red through her long black hair and a tiny, hooked scar on her chin. She caught me staring, and I dropped my gaze quickly, grimacing as nausea clenched in my stomach.

“Can I take your shirt off?” Wren asked, and I looked down at myself. This wasn’t my shirt, it was too big.

Whose is it then? I nodded, and the not-quite Wren helped her lift my arms, guiding the shirt up and over my head. Both of them inhaled sharply, and I brought my arms down to cover myself, feeling very vulnerable under their gaze.

“Roe, check the water, okay? We want it hot but not scalding,” Wren instructed, and the second woman rolled up her sleeves, sticking her hand in the tub.

“Can we help you into the tub?” she asked me, and the thought of more hands on my body made me shake. I tried to push myself up to my feet, but my legs wouldn’t support me, and I slid down the wall.

“Okay,” I whispered, and she was there immediately, her small, gentle hands helping me to stand, as they both guided me over to the tub. It took all three of us a moment to get my useless legs up and into the tub, but the second they sank into the water I moaned in relief. The women helped me lower down, and Wren knelt beside me, making sure I didn’t slip under. The heat was a blessed relief, dulling the cramps until it no longer felt like daggers stabbing through my body.

The second woman— Roe, I think Wren had called her ?—hopped up onto the countertop, watching me with an unreadable expression on her face. I looked down at myself and was shocked to see a kaleidoscope of bruises decorating nearly my entire torso. My arms were in a similar condition, and dark bruising marred the insides of my thighs. I choked out a sound, not sure if it was a gasp or a sob, the burn in my throat reminding me of how raw my insides were too.

“Can I wash your hair?” Wren asked gently, and I nodded, too tired to argue at this point. I let her order me around with her soft voice, tipping my head down when she poured water over my hair, closing my eyes as she lathered shampoo across my scalp. Whenever she hit a tender spot I would hiss, and she’d murmur apologies, and Roe would mutter something to herself.

My eyes were beginning to drift closed as she rinsed out my hair, my body deciding that consciousness was not worth the effort any longer. What did it say about the state of my mental faculties if I was falling asleep in a room with strangers after letting one of them wash my hair?

“Grace? Stay with us just a little longer, okay?” Wren murmured, touching her hand to my shoulder. I blinked a few times, forcing my eyes to stay open so my head wouldn’t slip under the water. “Roe, a towel?” Water splashed across the floor as the three of us struggled to lift my useless body out of the bathtub. I felt like my limbs were made of overcooked spaghetti. They managed to get me wrapped in a towel and led me back out into the little room, setting me down on the bed. Wren whispered something to her sister, who disappeared for a moment, returning with an armful of clothes. Wren slid a soft cotton t-shirt over my head, and to my shame, she helped me into a pair of cotton panties that definitely weren’t mine. Roe held out a small wrapped object to her, and Wren’s eyes widened.

“Oh, um. I think you’ll need this,” she told me, and I realized it was a menstrual pad. My cheeks burned, and I took the package from her, fumbling to open it. At least it wasn’t a tampon, I didn’t think I could’ve handled that right now. They helped me into a pair of sweatpants, and by the time I was dressed, I was barely conscious. Wren helped me to lay down, and I curled up on my side as she drew the covers up over me.

“Thank you,” I whispered, tears pricking my eyes as I burrowed deep under the blanket. I didn’t know if she heard me, and I was already asleep before she had the chance to respond.