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I notice there’s an IV line in the back of my hand when I lift my left arm up, pulling at the oxygen mask that’s suctioned to my face, and peeling it off. My memory is foggy at best when it comes to everything that has unfolded. I don’t know how I made it out of that cell, but I tilt my head down only to find Zeke curled up beside me sound asleep, and I’m flooded with a sense of relief.
I have no idea where we are, but there are no restraints, there are no bars, and there’s a calmness exuding from Zeke that lets me know we are at the very least, safe. We made it out alive. As the comfort of knowing we escaped somehow settles in, everything else is magnified. It’s as though one horror being resolved is allowing me to finally feel the others. To come to terms with them.
My body aches something awful, and I try to shift my weight to alleviate it, but I only manage to make things worse. Sharp, searing pain shoots through my backside when I try to adjust my position, causing my entire body to tense. It overpowers the stinging feeling that riddles my torso. Each horrifying sensation is a reminder of everything that was stolen from me during the time we were trapped in that cell.
The pain creeps into my chest, constricting my lungs and I’m finding it nearly impossible to just inhale and exhale like a normal human being. Breathing isn’t supposed to hurt, but it’s making my eyes well with tears. When I inhale sharply, the sound stirs Zeke awake and he immediately jumps up.
“Cole, oh my god you’re awake, you… I need to get the doctor,” he rolls off the bed and turns to move, but I thrust out my hand, reaching for him as I shake my head and the tears start falling.
I don’t know how many people have seen me like this, and I’m terrified. Terrified that everyone will see me for the weak, pathetic person that I am. I can’t handle seeing that look in their eyes, and I don’t want any of their pity. Right now, I just need Zeke. I need him not to leave my side, because if he leaves my side right now I might crumble completely.
“No, don’t,” I manage to choke out as I clear my throat, and he stops in his tracks.
“Ok, ok. Tell me what you need?” he turns back to me, taking my hand in his and settling back onto the bed.
“W-water.”
“Ok,” he nods and he moves to leave again but I grip his hand tight. I grip it so tight, his skin blanches.
“Cole, it’s ok. I just have to walk over to sink. Just right there,” he motions to the other side of the room.
Hesitantly, I loosen my grip but my eyes never leave him as he moves quickly to the sink, filling a paper cup with water, and scurrying back to my side. Climbing back into the bed next to me, he slips an arm beneath my head and brings the cup to my lips. I take slow sips, and the first few feel like I’m swallowing glass, but I feel like there’s not enough water left on earth, so I just keep drinking.
I finish the entire cup, so Zeke turns and sets it on a small table beside the bed before turning back to me. His eyes are filled with emotions that I can’t decipher, and that thought alone frightens me to my core.
Does he see me as ruined now? I feel ruined.
I don’t know how to ask the questions that I need answers to, and I’m not sure I really want the answers anyway, so I break the silence with something else I need to know.
“How long ha-”
“Three days. It’s been three days since they rescued us,” he whispers, moving closer, pulling me against his chest.
At first his touch makes every muscle in my body clench, but it quickly dissipates when my body remembers that it’s just him. When my body remembers the way he held me in the aftermath of every horrid thing that happened. As much as part of me doesn’t want to be touched right now, his touch is the only thing keeping me from going off the deep end. So I settle into it. Welcoming it. Sliding my hands beneath his t-shirt, allowing his touch to swallow me whole, in the only place where I feel safe.
“Z,” I whisper against his chest.
“Yeah?”
“I just want to go home.”
“I know,” he nuzzles his cheek against the top of my head. “I know.”
Just then, the door swings open and I leap a mile out of my skin, digging my fingers into Zeke’s torso so hard, my fingernails leave crescent moon indents in his flesh.
“Knock, knock,” a man comes into the room wearing a white coat, and my whole body seizes up, every muscle freezing mid-contraction. I find myself clinging so desperately to Zeke that it’s as though I’m trying to climb inside of him.
“No,” I gasp.
“Hey, it’s ok. Cole, he's here to help.”
“No, no, no,” I reach one hand around the back of my neck, scratching at the skin with my fingernails, digging so hard that blood begins to pool beneath my nails.
“Cole, stop!” Zeke’s voice is panicked, he grabs at my arm, but he doesn’t understand. They can find me. They will find me.
“No! Zeke, they can find me! They will find me!”
“Oh shit,” he mutters beneath his breath. “Doc, I think they put a tracker in him.”
