With seemingly reluctant approval, the doctor informed her a visit could be permitted if Zosia was discrete and didn’t purposefully ‘disturb the patient’ — a title which only served to cause the muscles of her expression to contort in dismay. Fuck that. It was not simply a patient her insides had been agonizing over to have within her grasp; it was not visuals a patient that entered her mind in vivid glimpses attached to morbid premonitions; it was not a patient Zosia loved… it was Ashlyn. Fortunately, for everyone’s sake, her strong disapproval with the empty reference the girl had been reduced to was white noise in comparison to the emergency alarm bell level priority of being transported from the waiting room to her bedside.
Striving to heed his advice, she muted her tumultuous inner workings and gave a stiff nod of compliance, teeth clenched to withhold whatever argument was simmering at the back of her throat. Trading in her frustration for gratitude was a different obstacle — sure, he might have been taking her to where she physically ached to be, but until she personally witnessed Ashlyn’s current condition she was as good as dead. Zosia started after his lead fuelled by a renewed urgency, footsteps too eager for her own good and nearly tripping herself up in the process. Adjusting speeds accordingly, she silently glared at the shoes in front of her she was required to trail behind. Each hallway was as indistinguishable as the next, the potent scent of iron and sanitizer radiating from each. She knew better than to try to count how many steps, seconds, or minutes were passing. Suffice it to say, her concept of timekeeping and navigation had been turned upside down the moment she’d crossed the Hospital’s threshold.
Every internalized complaint became all but forgotten as soon as they arrived at the correct doorway — perhaps a little too abruptly. Not anticipating the journey to end without a warning, the momentum of her brisk steps propelled her into clumsily colliding into the doctor’s body. Despite attempts to veer into the wall at the last second as to not cause a disruption, her elbow hit the small of his back. Her jaw automatically slackened to apologize, hyper-aware that her visiting privileges came with a strict conduct to follow. “Sorry, sorry,” she blurted, struck with a familiar panicked unease that her error might be considered irreversibly harmful, it took a particular degree of control to keep herself from blubbering over the possibility. “I’m s-sorry, please still let me see her. Please,” she mumbled, the pleading nature of even the softest words unmistakable. She averted her eyes as he turned around, hastily wiping the backs of her hands across her damp cheeks to erase evidence of distress. Unexpectedly, the deciding response didn’t come from him — instead from a woman’s voice to Zosia’s right, emerging from the room with the quiet creak of the door’s hinges. “Oh, it’s alright, don’t you worry about a thing.” Looking upwards with a hitched breath, Zosia practically looked through the nurse, scanning for any sign of light and life beyond her. “I’ll take it from here.” A gentle hand of encouragement pressed to Zosia’s shoulder, who deposited it she wasn’t sure. She didn’t care to pay attention to such details any longer, focused on nothing — no one — but the occupant of the bed just out of view. “May I?” she urged, hands gripping the material of her jacket sleeves in order to keep them steady. In answer, the nurse simply stepped to the side.
Entering the unfamiliar atmosphere room raised the hairs on Zosia’s arms. What awaited her here? Stability was not, contrary to definition, guaranteed to be a permanent state. To allow herself to approach the situation with a smile would be foolish and premature. She heard the door close with a noticeable click behind her, effectively bringing her out of another loop of worried thoughts. Biting down on the reoccurring quiver of her lower lip, she glanced over her shoulder to confirm the nurse remained present, lingering by the doorway. Swallowing the lump rising in her throat, she turned to shyly venture closer to the bed. Suddenly nervous of what she’d find when she looked up from the safety of the floor, she reached upwards to tug at the flimsy bedside curtain hanging from the ceiling to at least give the illusion of privacy. Only then did she allow her vision to properly fixate on the desired. She inhaled sharply, relief hitting her like a ton of bricks at finally having a sore absence gloriously refilled, dark eyes glazed with an involuntarily surge of new tears, “Oh, Ashlyn,” she breathed, “welcome back.”
It took entirely too long for the room to be cleaned up, and Ashlyn to settle down. She had to promise to behave, though even those promises didn’t rid her of the restraints, and Ashlyn swore that whoever it was, she’d keep it together. If it was who her heart desired, then Ashlyn would have a mountain of apologies to climb and honestly she needed to get a head start. Once the floor was mopped, and Ashlyn’s mouth wiped (thank goodness), she felt the bed move to sit her up and Ashlyn lulled her head towards the door, the beeping accelerating just slightly when the nurse opened the door.
Her fists tightened around the bedsheets and Ashlyn felt her pale face flood with heat as the object of her affection finally crossed the threshold. For a second, she almost thought she was imagining the whole thing, after all, the drugs were still running heavy through her system. Her mouth parted slightly and Ashlyn watched her move closer to the bed, eyes fixed to the floor. It brought on a wave of uncertainty and Ashlyn licked her lips, nauseated by the taste of her own vomit that still lingered and the fact that Zosia wouldn’t look at her. Her own eyes shot down to her arms, covered in pain and puncture wounds and Ash’s hand twitched open in memory of where they came from.
And then, like surfacing after being held under water, Zosia’s voice cut through as clear as day, eyes meeting the eyes of the girl she loved so dearly. “Zosia,” she rasped, barely audible, “Zosia...” Her own eyes teared up and Ashlyn’s fists tightened again, the restraints audibly creaking at the tension. “Zosia.” Her voice cracked and nothing held back as she started sobbing loudly, head slouching down in her chest. “Im sorry,” she cried through her tears, “I’m so sorry. I’m s-so sorry, so sorry, so so sorry...” The sound of her voice barely carried through the raspiness and the tears, but it was the only thing she could think of not to lose Zosia again. “I can’t remember. I don’t know. Please don’t leave me again. Im sorry.”
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