The first thing that registered was the pain. My leg was on fire and my abdomen throbbed. Then I heard a voice. A quiet voice. And felt someone holding onto my hand.
"It's Dean, I'm right here."
Dean. I had to let him know I was there, he had to know I was okay, that he should be checking on Sammy, not me. But something was running down my throat. I tried to swallow but the darn thing prohibited it.
"You look like shit, you know that?"
'Well thanks for that', I thought. giving up on the prospect of talking I willed my hand to close around his. It took time, and effort, in fact, that one movement made me want to fall back asleep, but I had to see Dean for myself, not just hear his voice.
I opened one eye, slowly, then the other. My vision remained blurry, but I could make out his form next to my bed.
His whole face lit up when his eyes met mine.
That's when I started panicking. The stupid thing down my throat wasn't letting me breath. What sort of hospital was this? I whimpered and tried to claw at whatever it was, willing Dean to understand. He did. He rushed out yelling something and soon nurses were running in. I yearned to yell. To demand them to take the friggin' thing off of me, or out of me, whatever, but all I could do was gesture frantically, my lungs feeling like they would explode from lack of oxygen.
"Relax," one of the nurses said soothingly.
'Yeah uh huh, sure,' I wanted to reply, 'Let's see how relaxed you are when you can't breathe.'
She held up a needle and stuck it into the IV I hadn't noticed before. The effect was instant, my eyelids became heavy and sleep irresistible.
The next time I woke I was lying in a different bed. My tongue felt heavy and my throat sore. I noticed happily that the doctors had taken that ridiculous tube out of my throat and replaced it with an oxygen mask. The mask was unpleasant and I didn't even want to think about what it smelled like, but at least I could remove it fairly easy. I looked down at my arms, trying to mentally gauge how long I would have to be there.
My movements woke Mary, who was dozing in a chair by the window. She got up and brushed some stray strand of hair off of my face.
"You're supposed to leave the mask on for now," she told me, smiling sympathetically as if she could sense my discomfort, "They said it would help your throat heal quicker, that and not talking."
I furrowed my brow and she chuckled.
"Don't worry, we'll find a way to get you talking for yourself." She looked around the room, "The boys ran to get some food and John got called in," she said lightly.
Her eyes widened as if she had just gotten an idea, she walked over and rummaged through her purse before coming back and sitting down. She handed me a small notepad and a pen.
"There, oh I almost forgot," she reached over and pressed the 'call' button', at my confused look she explained, "they told us to call them the moment you woke up."
I tried to uncap the pen, but my fingers wouldn't function properly. Mary reached down and uncapped the pen for me as if it were the most natural thing in the world. I could feel a blush form on my cheeks. I hated feeling useless, dependent on others, it's never set well with me.
It took me a moment to write my question, my handwriting just barely readable. 'How long was I out?'
She read the question then calculated it in her head, "You had surgery yesterday, it is now," she glanced at her watch, "Twelve fifteen."
She handed me back the notebook and I wrote my next question. Choosing one out of the thousands that swarmed my mind wasn't easy, heck just focusing on writing the question was a challenge, I hoped it was only a side affect of the pain killers and not a lasting affect of anything.
'How long do I have to stay?'
She laughed as she read the question and gazed at me sympathetically. She was just about to answer when the doctor entered the room.
"Hello," the doctor said pleasantly.
"I'm Dr. Riaze," she introduced herself, "I think this is the first time I've met you while you're awake." She grabbed the charts off of the end of the bed and scanned them over, nodding in approval. She then moved to the right side of my bed and proceeded to shine a light in my eyes. "Good, your pupils are reacting," she murmured, "They were all dilated when you first arrived, did you know that?" she asked me, I shook my head. "Yeah, nasty concussion," she peeled the oxygen mask off, "Don't talk," she ordered, as she instructed me to open my mouth.
She shined the light at the back of my throat before telling me to close my mouth and repositioning the mask back over my mouth. She quickly took off the bandages that wrapped around my mid-section.
"How bad is the pain on a scale of one to ten?" Dr. Riaze asked, "One being no big deal, ten being awful."
At my hesitation she added, "Please be honest."
I held up four fingers. She nodded before redressing the wound.
"I'll have a nurse up your pain medication a little. At this rate you should be able to get the mask off in a couple of days. Until then you're only allowed to have fluids, and no talking, otherwise it'll take longer for your throat to heal. Your stab wound is also healing nicely, we'll just be keeping a close watch for infection, just to be safe. We'll have to have an x-ray for your leg in a couple of weeks or so to check up on that, but we can schedule that later. Any questions?"
I pointed to the notepad Mary had.
Mary gave a small grin as she said, "Lily wants to know when she can come home."
Dr. Riaze set the charts back on the end of the bed, "I can't make any promises," she warned, "But I'd say in three maybe four days you'll be good to go, anything else?"
I shook my head and Mary said no as well, Dr. Riaze bustled off to another room.
I was just staring to doze off when Sammy ran into the room.
"You're awake!" he exclaimed, rushing over. He pushed himself onto the bed.
My hand reached up and I gently ran my fingers over the bruising on his face, guilt threatening to overcome my very being.
"It's not your fault Lily," he said quietly, taking my hand in both of his.
Dean sat in the chair on the other side and pulled something out of his pocket. He handed it to me.
"Since you lost your other one," he said, "Unresponsibe person that you are," he teased.
I glared at him, making Sammy giggle as I ran my fingers over the new phone.
"I already programmed our numbers into it," Dean continued.
I turned it on and frowned when it asked for a password.
"Oh it's 'Dean's Awesome' with a capitol 'd' and 'a',' he flashed me a grin.
I rolled my eyes and typed it in. My lips parted into a smile at the background picture. It was of Sam and Dean making funny faces. Dean's green eyes were crossed and Sam was using his fingers to pull his lips out and sticking out his tongue.
"We took that in the cafeteria," Sam informed me.
I slowly but surely typed a message and sent it. Dean's phone buzzed a few seconds later.
Me: thanks :)
He grinned and looked up at me. He wriggled his eyebrows, "I told you, I'm a frickin' prince charming."