A Day of Ruin

I slowly lost track of time. I spent most of the day either just staring at the walls or sleeping when my brain was able to shut off.

Dr. Thomas came in and out to check on me, making little notes on his bloody notepad from my answers. The nurses came in routinely, checking over my IV, helping me go to the bathroom and making small talk. But besides that, there was no one.

My wrists were sore from the leather straps holding them down and I could feel my arms starting to cramp from the lack of movement. I wanted to go home.

I had no idea if home was safe for me. Or what it would even mean to share a house with Dex now in light of all this, but I didn’t want to be here.

The nights were tough and lonely. An oxymoron really considering it was the reason I had found myself in this place. Screams would ring out from other rooms, cries and sobs from other patients. The nurses still just floated around, oblivious to the negative emotion that poured from our skins.

When I woke on day 3, I had a shitty headache that I couldn’t shake. So when Dr. Thomas came in I was relieved as well.

“Oh god, Doc. Can you please ask them to check the pain killers because I feel like my head is going to explode.”

Thomas stood in the doorway, noting my request before speaking to someone outside the door. A brief conversation exchanged before he stepped in, pushing the door partially closed behind him.

“They will bring you something. In the meantime, how do you feel today?”

I tugged at the straps dramatically and looked at him with a cocked eyebrow.

“Peachy Dory. My poor biceps are going to lose all their muscle mass. And I live in constant fear that I’m going to piss my pants since I can’t buzz for anyone.”

Surprise crossed his face. “Good to see the old Harlow is starting to poke out.”

I chuckled. “Well, I have no company here so I need all my personalities to be available for intellectual conversation.”

Thomas nodded and I frowned in confusion. He jotted something down and I had the urge to throw his notepad out the damn window.

“Would you like some visitors today?”

My stomach dropped. “Visitors?” I repeated.

“Yes, visitors. It’s been over 48 hours and I am happy with your progress. I am comfortable signing off on the removal of the straps and approving the visitor schedule if that’s what you would like.”

I pulled at the straps again. “Does a bear shit in the woods?”

“Noted,” he said, scribbling something. “And the visitors?”

I fell silent, unease filling me. “I don’t know. Maybe... what have they said?”

“The young lady said if anyone hurts her wildcat, she will ′rip their balls off and send them to the organ donation department’.”

A snort broke loose against my control. “Sounds like Lily. But...” I trailed off.

Thomas nodded, “The young men are still here. They really need a shower so perhaps you could consider showing mercy and see them so they will leave and get cleaned up. Patients are complaining about the smell and the morgue keeps thinking they have a delivery.”

It felt amazing to have the straps off. I sat on the bed, rubbing my red wrists trying to avoid looking at the bandage on my arm.

Thomas had gone to sign off on the paperwork and get my visitors.

I couldn’t help the nausea that sat in the pit of my stomach as I waited. The last time I had properly seen the three of them had ended on horrible terms. I couldn’t understand why they wanted to be here but that stupid hope and longing for human comfort was beating the need to tell everyone to fuck off.

I was embarrassed. And if I was honest, I still didn’t feel okay. I wasn’t about to jump out the window but I still struggled to understand why I should stay around. I guess part of me was wishing that Bryson, Finn and Dex could give me the answer...

The door clicked open and I looked up nervously, my legs crossed as I watched the young blonde nurse in a light purple uniform looked in.

“She’s all decent. In you go.”

She threw me a small smile before vanishing through the door and I watched with held breath as the guys slowly walked in.

They looked like shit.

So, at least I instantly felt a bit better about my own appearance.

Bryson was first. He still had a suit on, except his jacket was missing and his shirt was wrinkled. His curls were a little out of control and he looked equally as nervous as he met my gaze.

Finn piled in next, his eyes dark with bags from lack of sleep. He appeared nervous too, but it was the disappointment that reflected back at me in his eyes that made my heart ache.

I looked to the door, waiting. And I frowned when no one else came through. I bit back more tears as I tried to keep my face neutral. Finn stepped forward, sitting down on the vacant chair next to my bed.

“He’s out there, Har. He just needs a moment.”

My eyes hovered on the doorway again before nodding, accepting it for what it was.

Bryson walked around the other side of the bed and sat down. “You really had us worried, Harlow...” he started.

I said nothing as I fought back the wave of emotion that threatened to explode out of me. That urge got even harder when Finn grabbed my arm – it also just so happened to be my injured one.

“Har, we care for you so much. Please don’t do this.”

Flashbacks of our fight filled my memories and I looked at him hesitantly. “How can you care about me when I did that?”

Hurt crossed Finn’s face but he held onto my hand tighter, bringing his head down to rest on it.

“Because I’ll always care about you. I promised you that when I left, and I meant it. You’ll always be special, no matter what.”

Sobs broke the silence and it took me a moment to realize, they were mine. Finn immediately looked up, his face contorted with pain as he watched me fall apart.

On the other side, Bryson reached over and hesitantly grabbed my hand, leaving his grip loose enough that I could pull away if I wanted.

But I didn’t.

My cries must have been louder than I realized, because it only took a few seconds before Dex appeared in the doorway, concern all over his face as he looked at me in panic.

As I spotted him, I paused, my crying temporarily forgotten as I stared at him in shock and apprehension. We held each others gaze, neither of us sure how to proceed. Words got caught in my throat as I tried desperately to figure out what I wanted to say, and how I felt.

I was still so mad at him. So mad at his words. So fucking angry that he made my body feel alive, especially in the moments when I wanted to die.

But at the same time, I was so relieved to see him. To believe that he actually cared.

He looked like shit.