"Dad, I promise you, I'm fine," Lauren said with determination, her voice tinged with a hint of defiance. As she lay in the hospital bed, her body wrapped in bandages, she gazed into her father's worried eyes. Beside her, Dr. Derek stood, ready to provide reassurance.
"Lauren," her father began, his voice filled with a mix of relief and lingering fear, "you had a concussion, two broken ribs, and that gruesome wound on your neck. You lost so much blood that they had to give you three pints to save your life. How you managed to survive such a harrowing ordeal is nothing short of a miracle."
Lauren's eyes softened with empathy as she reached out to hold her father's trembling hand. "Dad, I understand your concern. I really do. But you have to trust in Dr. Derek's expertise. He has been with me every step of the way, guiding my recovery and ensuring that I get the best possible care."
Dr. Derek, his voice calm and reassuring, stepped forward to address Mr. Robertson. "Mr. Turner, I can assure you that Lauren has been making remarkable progress. Yes, her injuries were severe, but she has shown incredible resilience and determination. The treatments we've administered, along with her own strength, have played a crucial role in her recovery."
Lauren's father brought a hand to his face, his worry etched deep into his features. "You don't understand, Lauren. If anything had happened to you..." His voice quivered, and tears welled up in his eyes. "I don't know how I would be able to go on. You're everything to me."
Lauren's heart ached at her father's words. A tear swelled in her eyes as she stared at her only living parent who was her whole world. She couldnt imagine how scared, worried and anxious he had been when she was unconscious. She rose from the bed and walked up to her old man and hugged him tightly.
"I'm so sorry for making you worried dad" she said as a lone tear streamed down her face.
"Oh my dear dont apologise, if I dont worry about you, who will" he said solemnly patting her softly on her back.
Mr. Turner gently guided his daughter back to her bed, ensuring she was comfortable before setting a tray of delicious food in front of her. It was evident that Mr. Turner's talents extended beyond his renowned surgical career – he was also an accomplished chef. Cooking had always been his way of expressing love, especially for his family. Over the years, as he tirelessly worked as a surgeon, he had prepared countless meals, pouring his heart and soul into every dish.
"Dad, I can eat by myself, you know," Lauren remarked playfully, rolling her eyes. Despite her protest, a faint smile tugged at the corners of her lips, appreciating her father's caring gestures.
Mr. Turner chuckled softly, the lines of experience etched on his face.
"Alright, alright, I hear you," he said, pretending to surrender to her independence. "But indulge this old man for a moment and let me serve my precious daughter her meal."
Lauren gave in, knowing it was futile to resist her father's affectionate persistence. She watched as he carefully spooned a portion of the delicious food onto her plate, his movements graceful from years of honed surgical precision. The aroma filled the room, tantalizing her senses, and she couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude for her father's nurturing presence.
With the plate now filled, Mr. Turner leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss on both of Lauren's cheeks. His love overflowed in that simple gesture, a silent expression of his unwavering support and care.
"Dad, thank you," Lauren murmured, her voice filled with genuine appreciation. Their eyes met, and a profound connection passed between them, unspoken yet deeply understood.
Mr. Turner smiled, his eyes reflecting the love and pride he felt for his daughter. "Eat now, my dear. Enjoy every bite," he encouraged, before stepping away and leaving Lauren to relish the meal he had prepared with such devotion.
In that moment, surrounded by the aroma of the food and her father's presence lingering in the room, Lauren savored not only the flavors but the warmth of their relationship. She understood that her father's acts of care and nurture extended far beyond the boundaries of their current situation.
Derek watched the father and daughter duo and smiled, just then he turned and stared at the door handle with a crocked eye brow.
"Mr. Turner, your daughter is a true survivor. I've seen her determination firsthand, and I have every confidence that she will make a full recovery. We'll continue to monitor her progress closely and provide any necessary support." Derek said to Mr Turner.
"Dr Derek, I want to know, what exactly is the cause of that nasty injury on my daughter's neck" Mr Turner asked sitting on one of the sofas and sipping a hot coffee.
A heavy silence filled the room as Mr. Turner anxiously awaited Dr. Derek's explanation.. Dr. Derek, his expression composed and his eyes filled with a mix of concern and secrecy, took a moment to gather his thoughts before speaking.
"Based on my examinations," he began, his voice calm and measured, "and considering what transpired during the mission, I can confirm that Lauren was indeed hit from behind. The weapon used had pointy ends, resulting in the wound you see on her neck. However, I must assure you that the wound is healing remarkably quickly."
He paused for a brief moment, taking in the weight of his own words. It pained him to deceive Mr. Turner, knowing that he was betraying his oath as a doctor. But deep down, Derek carried a secret, a truth that had been entrusted to him by the supernatural world—a truth that he believed should remain hidden from humanity unless absolutely necessary.
As a vampire, Derek felt a certain responsibility to keep humans oblivious to the presence of the supernatural, unless their lives were at risk. In this case, revealing the truth about the vampire bite was not necessary. It was a delicate balance between his duty as a physician and his devotion to the supernatural realm.
"Miss Lauren is healing remarkably well," Derek continued, his voice steady and confident. "I expect she will be able to leave the hospital by tomorrow. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have other rounds to attend to."
With those words, Derek swiftly turned and left the room, his steps echoing down the corridor. In the depths of his vampire psyche, conflicting emotions tugged at his heart. He grappled with the weight of his double life—the life of a healer and a caregiver, and the life of a creature shrouded in secrecy.
As he walked through the dimly lit hallway, memories of his own transformation flooded his mind. He remembered the moment he had been he started out as a medical student, the endless nights of learning to control his insatiable hunger, and the eternal responsibility he had embraced.
Knowing that his deception had brought temporary relief to Lauren's worried father did little to quell the lingering guilt. Yet, to Derek, it was a necessary sacrifice—a façade he had committed to upholding for the sake of both worlds he straddled.
Meanwhile....
As Derek entered his office, he couldn't help but notice Damien's distant demeanor. He closed the door behind him, the soft click echoing in the room. The sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling glass window, casting long shadows across the polished wooden floor.
"Why didn't you come in and see her?" Derek questioned, his voice filled with a mix of concern and curiosity. He settled into his chair, a swirl of movement as he shifted from side to side, studying Damien's rigid posture. The faint scent of old books and freshly brewed coffee lingered in the air.
Damien stood by the window like an unyielding rod, his gaze fixed upon the sprawling cityscape below. He was lost in a world of his own thoughts, the weight of his contemplations etched across his face.
After a moment, Damien turned, his eyes meeting Derek's, a flicker of vulnerability hidden beneath his stoic facade.
Damien's voice trembled with self-blame as he uttered the words, his anguish casting a shadow over the room..
"It was stupid to think I had the right to see her, she almost died Derek, third quarter of blood was drained because of me" Damien said.
The light from the white bulb illuminated the spacious office, reflecting off the mahogany furniture and elegant decor.
Derek, leaning against the polished desk, regarded Damien with a mix of empathy and concern. His eyes sparkled with a deep understanding of the weight of guilt that burdened his friend's soul.
"No, Damien," Derek's voice, steady and gentle, filled the room, attempting to break through the walls of despair that surrounded his friend. "It was never your intention to cause harm.....and besides no one knew any of these would have happened"
Damien turned his gaze towards the floor, his expression a tumult of conflicting emotions. "But Derek, if it weren't for me, she wouldn't have been exposed to such danger. She wouldn't have come so close to death."