“How is she?” Dave asked, coming up to Pain’s bed. “Peter said she’s okay?”
Tiffany turned to him, eyebrow arched. Her face looked drawn, shadows under her eyes. “I wouldn’t call a coma okay, but her vitals are good.”
“Coma?” Dave’s stomach flipped. “Peter didn’t say anything about a coma.”
“And what did you think this was?” The nurse put the clipboard on the nightstand and folded her arms on her chest. “Did you expect—”
“Tiffany,” Doc interrupted her, entering the room. He walked past Dave, leaving a trail of aftershave in his wake. “I thought you were sleeping. You need to get some rest.”
Her shining blue eyes locked with his, and she opened her mouth, as if to protest, but he stepped closer and put a hand on her waist—maybe a bit too close—and she nodded, dropping her gaze.
“I’ll be back in six hours,” she said, walking to the exit.
“No need. It’s Anna’s shift today,” Doc replied. “You did very well last night.”
She paused to look at him, and left with a nod.
Doc turned to Dave, pulling on a fake smile. “So nice of you to stop by and annoy my nurses like that.”
Dave winced. “I just wanted to know how Pain was doing. I understand she’s stressed after the long night. A word or two would’ve been enough.”
Doc flicked his wrist, dismissing Dave’s response as he disappeared in the nurses’ room.
Chad was already seated in a chair next to Pain, and Dave walked to her other side, leaning with his hip against the bed. “You got any sleep?” he asked Chad, watching Pain’s chest rise and fall. There was no sign of life aside from that, no twitching fingers, no fluttering eyelids.
“A couple hours,” Chad said, moving up to lean on the bed. His eyes were on Pain’s hand as he toyed with her fingers.
Slim, delicate fingers, capable of saving lives and breaking bones.
“Wanna grab some breakfast in an hour? We’ll come back after,” Dave suggested.
Chad drew a deep breath, as if for a sigh. “No. Can’t eat.”
“Chad—”
“Dave, what do you want? You wanna sit here and hold my hand? I’m fine. We’re fine. This is not your fault. I heard what Marco said, and he’s wrong. He was way out of line, just taking it out on you. You don’t need to follow me around. If you want to be helpful, go help Rooney with whatever he’s doing. I’ll call you if anything changes.”
Dave swallowed the lump in his throat, the aftertaste of coffee turning to acid in his mouth. He finished it in one gulp and tossed the cup into a trash bin. “Okay. Got it.” The words came out flat. He cleared his throat. “I don’t want to lose her too, you know.”
Chad looked him in the eyes for the first time that morning. “I know,” he said after a moment. “You saved her.”
“She saved me first. I just wish—” I could’ve saved Elena, too.
Dave waved his hand and left without another word.
Chapter 29
Minutes turned into hours, and hours turned into days as Chad sat in the infirmary, watching Pain sleep.
That’s what he’d told himself she was doing, sleeping, despite Tiffany’s words, despite logic. The alternative was too much like death. It meant she could stay like this for months, years even, or wake up and not remember who she was—who he was to her.
He only left for minutes at a time to stretch his legs or to sit with the others in the canteen without actually eating anything, to pretend he was still functioning so they wouldn’t pester him too much. His own sleep had gone to hell, with all the dozing he did in the big chair he’d dragged in from the waiting room, and so night had bled into daytime as well.
Jane spent a lot of time there with him, though they rarely spoke about anything. Peter came by a few times and sat holding Pain’s hand, silent and grim. He appeared to be thinking hard even then, his work never stopping. Countless others had come at least once, as if they needed a confirmation that she was still alive. They made small talk with Doc, and everyone asked what exactly happened and how he’d saved her, as if they didn’t already know. The incident sprouted new details with every few hours, until no one knew what was real anymore.
Except for Doc and Chad, of course. Chad knew exactly what had happened, although he still had to thank Doc for having done the impossible. With the others, Doc was as vague as ever. “Yes, it was pretty bad, but you know her, she always pulls through. No, they weren’t that far from here. No, she didn’t actually flat-line.”
No one could know. About this ability, skill, whatever it was—no one could expect this kind of power from Doc. And Chad didn’t, because if there were anything left, Doc would’ve used it to wake her up, to give her that final nudge. But he hadn’t, and that meant he was still figuring it out.
By the end of day two, when it was close to midnight and the building had gone quiet, Chad awoke from his nap to someone’s low murmuring. He peeled his eyes open to find Skull sitting by Pain’s bed, his head bent over her still form.
It took Chad a minute to realize why he couldn’t understand any of Skull’s words—he was praying in Spanish, his voice barely a whisper. He’d waited for everyone to be out before he came, and suddenly, Chad felt as if he were intruding on something private.
