Syd pov
"Let's get the Dr in here to see you first Syd, maybe wash up a bit, hmmm?!" Laura suggests as I struggle to sit up, my entire body protesting the action loudly.
"NO! Now Laura.... I need to see him now. Please!? Help me?" I plead, tears spilling down my face, partly due to the crippling pain I'm in, but mainly because of the overwhelming feelings I'm experiencing... Joy that he is alive, desperation to see he is ok with my own eyes, absolute fury towards Harry and The Six, and enormous fear! Fear that he will turn his back on me, after all, if he hadn't met me he wouldn't be in this state right now. I'm dangerous. He deserves better. He deserves to be safe. He doesn't deserve me!
Laura looks away from me and I follow her gaze, shocked to find Noah sitting beside my bed, quietly observing us both. My stomach turns over, my skin immediately becomes clammy and my heart rate increases to an unsustainable rate. If I don't calm down I'm going to have a seizure! Laura presumes I am in pain and heads out of the room to find a nurse to give me some pain relief, leaving Noah and me alone. I can't believe she has left me alone with him!
"Sydney, let me explain!" he begins earnestly, leaning towards me and placing his hand on my bed. I flinch at the movement and his closeness to me, and he withdraws his hand and places it back in his lap, a haunting sadness on his face before he lowers his gaze to his intertwined fingers.
"Noah, I'm not ready for this right now. I need to see Yanni, to see that he is ok for myself. We can talk another time, ok? Please... let's just leave it for now" I reply wearily, too tired in body and mind for the conversation we need to have. He betrayed me, put me in harms way, and Yanni too. Of course I want to know why, but it can wait for another time. I'd like for Yanni to be with me when Noah regales me with the reasons for his actions as he makes me feel safe, and he deserves to know what's going on too..... what almost got him killed!
"Please?! I need to get this off of my chest. It's eating me up. I have to tell you why I did what I did" he continues, his words catching in his throat as he speaks.
I muster every iota of strength I have and swing my legs around until they are dangling over the side of the bed and I am face to face with him. Through gritted teeth, partly in response to the immense pain that simple action has caused, but mainly to stop myself from yelling like a banshee, I answer him with a simple but firm "NO". He seems to get the message and nods at me, hanging his head and again looking at his hands, his fingers now dancing nervous circles on his thighs before looking back at me with a sad smile and another nod.
"Ok Sydney. When you're ready. For now, let me help you up and into this wheelchair and I'll take you to Yanni" he says with a sorrowful smile.
I thank him but insist I can manage. I don't want to be reliant on others, especially him. I want to get out of here as soon as possible, my recent stay in prison not a distant enough memory yet. Expending every ounce of energy I have I push myself to stand, my thigh muscles on fire, my heart pounding like a jackhammer and sweat beading on my forehead with the effort. Every inch of my body screeches in pain, tears again threaten to spill down my cheeks and my lungs seem to be refusing to expand and contract effectively. The lack of a sufficient quantity of oxygen makes my head swim and I stumble forwards with a yelp. Noah swiftly reaches out and catches me before I hit the floor.
Goosebumps immediately cover my skin and a huge wave of nausea hits me hard at his touch.
As Noah guides my fragile body into the wheelchair I wonder if my physical response to his touch is because it's HIM that's touching me, or whether ANY touch from a male will elicit the same response after recent events. Deciding there and then that I will NOT let Harry and his cronies ruin intimacy for me for the rest of my life I squash down the feelings of nausea and fear and curtly thank Noah for his help.
He places a blanket over my knees and pushes me out of the room and along the stark white corridor towards another solid oak door with 'D2' in shiny silver characters on it. We pause just outside and Noah asks me if I'm ok. I nod and he places his hand on my shoulder as a gesture of reassurance and this time I don't flinch, my gaze fixed on the door handle before me. My palms are sweating and my heart feels like it might burst from my chest, just like the parasite does from Ripley's crew-mate in the film 'Alien'. What if he doesn't want to see me? What if he blames me for his injuries? My eyes fill with tears and my breath catches in my throat, the thought that he may turn his back on me causing a pain in my chest so intense I fear I am about to have a heart attack.
Another sobering and abhorrent thought strikes me so hard that the icy fingers of terror clutch my stomach in a vice like grip that forces acidic bile up into my throat, simultaneously snatching my breath, causing me to choke hard enough for my eyes to water, and for Noah to rub my back and offer to get me some water. Thanking him I shake my head, I just want to see Yanni. I want to test my reaction to him.
My horrifying thought..... 'What if I am repulsed by Yanni?'
As if reading my mind Noah comes around the front of the wheelchair and crouches down, looking directly into my eyes and tells me that Yanni has been asking to see me since he woke up from surgery. The only reason he hasn't visited my room is because he has almost continuously been hooked up to IV's, receiving antibiotics, fluids and blood transfusions. Apparently the nurses are finding him an extremely challenging patient and have had to replace his cannulas more than six times because he keeps trying to get out of bed to come and see me.
My heart soars at this news and the tears brimming in my eyes begin to fall silently down my cheeks, over my lips and into my mouth, the salty taste nectar on my tongue. Relief sweeps through me, the ghost of a smile on my face, which Noah returns.
I choose to believe that my feelings for Yanni will be unchanged, my mind still recognising him as the love of my life, although my body's reaction to his touch is yet to be seen. Noah stands, and placing his hand on the door handle gently asks....
"Ready?"
Taking a deep and steadying breath I briefly nod and Noah turns the handle and pushes open the door, the beeping of a monitor the only sound emanating from the darkness for a brief moment.
"FUCK OFF! How many times do I have to say this? I don't want any fucking visitors!!" Yanni roars from the gloom.
"Not even me?" I ask timidly, Noah pushing me further into the room, closer to the bed, then quietly leaving the room, closing the door behind him.
"Syd?! Oh my god, at last! I've missed you. Are you ok? Come here! Are you in pain?".
He raises his head with the buttons on the side panel of his bed and extends his arm, placing his long cool fingers over my hand and I immediately feel calm, and cared for. I have nothing to worry about.... rather than disgusted by his touch I realise that I still crave it, that tiny gesture enough to re-assure me my feelings for him have only intensified.
I am in love with him.
He looks awful.
Pale, gaunt and weak, his hair greasy and stuck to his forehead, a probe to measure his vital signs attached to his finger and lines delivering fluids entering his right arm and left hand, but his eyes are sparkling and full of life. The most ethereal smile settles across his features and in that moment I know that we are going to be ok.
He squeezes my hand then lifts it to his mouth, kissing my palm before placing it on his cheek, which is when I notice the tears rolling down his beautiful but pallid skin.
"Ssshhhh! Don't cry! I'm ok, just in a little pain when I try to move too much, but nothing regular pain medicines can't control. Honestly, I'm fine.... truly! It's you I'm worried about!" I tell him sincerely.
"Are you serious? You've been through the most horrific experience. That bucket of shit and his pals tortured you Syd! Why are you worrying about me?"
"Because he....he stabbed you Yanni!! I thought you were dead! You looked dead as the paramedics took you away. There was so much blood! My heart broke in two at that moment, I truly thought I would never see you again. Id rather die than that. I need you in my life. I need you. I love you Yanni! So much, no.... I am IN love with you!" I choke out, fat tears falling freely down both our faces.
We lean in towards each other in an attempt to kiss but both wince in pain, Yanni holding his stomach, me clutching at the arms of my wheelchair as my entire body burns with pain.
He lays his head back and chuckles softly, the sound the most wonderful thing I think I have ever heard.
"We're going to be ok Syd. As long as we are together, we are going to be fine." he whispers sleepily into the dimness of the room.
"Yes, we will. We are going to be fine" I reply, stroking his hand as he drifts off to sleep.