Page 87 of Ready or Knot
“Gentlemen,” the doctor murmurs. She pulls a chair from the other table and sits. The nurse stands behind her, hands in her pockets. Before anyone can offer something, a beeping goes off, and the nurse walks away with a murmured apology.
“Faedra is awake and responsive,” the doctor offers after a moment. “She is incredibly lucky at this point.”
I nod. Punctured lungs are nasty.
“A few ground rules,” she says, cocking an eyebrow, “to help protect her lung while everything heals. She needs to stay calm as best as possible. Anything strenuous before the sutures heal could lead to the repair work rupturing. This includes laughing along with heavy lifting or twisting.”
Jude sets his chin on his palm.
“She’s newly off suppressors, so the possibility of heightened emotional response is much greater. If she can’t tolerate having all of you in the room, we’ll have to adjust visitor limitations.” Carter rubs his neck, and I offer a nod. “And just so it’s clear: nothing that will make her breathing quick or shallow that you have control over. Her chest tube will hopefully be removed in a few days. Until then, she’ll need help doing pretty much everything. If you’re uncomfortable or not confident in being able to help with whatever she needs, call for the nurse. We don’t want to have to replace the tube if possible.”
We murmur our agreements. When she stands, nerves race up my throat, and I swallow to try to ease them.
“You’re more than welcome to see her when you’re ready. I don’t think she’s ordered anything to eat yet, but there’s no restrictions. Feel free to get her whatever she would like.” She tucks her hands into the pockets of her jacket. “Let the nurse know if you have any questions or concerns. I’m happy to help.”
“Thank you,” Carter says, holding out his hand. She takes it easily enough and then heads out of the department, pulling out her phone as she heads deeper into the hospital.
Jude gathers up the food without comment, tucking everything back into the bag before standing up. We pass by the nurse’s station, and she offers a smile and wave.
“Text Violet and let her know she can come back,” Carter tells me.
Jude’s pushing open the door to Faedra’s room by the time I have my phone put back away.
Faedra looks over as we step inside, her hair a mess behind her. She picks at the tube of oxygen where it sits beside her, the canula perched delicately under her nose. The hospital light has her even more pale than normal, but it doesn’t decrease the relief I feel when I see her rosy cheeks and pink lips.
“Fae,” Jude murmurs, hesitating just inside the room. “Fuck, Fae. I’m so sorry.”
Her eyes well with tears, and whatever hesitation had overtaken us is gone. Carter makes it to her first, his hand covering hers as he kisses her temple.
“I’m so sorry, little Omega,” he murmurs, and she hiccups a sob, flinching at the sudden intake of breath.
Jude comes up on her other side, his hand gentle on her forearm. “It’s alright, Fae. Don’t cry. It kills me when you cry.”
She gives a sardonic smile before wiping the tears from her cheeks. The IV in her hand catches on the oxygen tubing, and she grimaces. I set the food on the table in the corner and then rush to the other side of Carter, helping her undo the twisted lines before her IV gets ripped out and they have to place another one.
“You need anything?” Carter asks on a whisper, and she shakes her head, the tears coming faster.
“Red,” I murmur, and she looks up at me. I wipe away the tears, cupping her cheeks before kissing her once, so soft it’s almost a brush of our lips. “I love you.”
She hiccups another sob but doesn’t flinch.
Jude palms her neck. “We’ve got you,” he says, leaning in the moment I’ve pulled away from her, resting his forehead against hers. Carter rests his hand on her thigh, the blanket pulling down a bit from the weight of his touch. She worries at her lip, biting it until it starts to bleed, and she curses.
“Are they—”
“They won’t hurt you again,” Carter says, voice dropping. She shivers, and I wrap her fingers in my hand, squeezing lightly.
“You ok, Red?” I ask. “You’re not in pain?”
She’s quick to shake her head, wiping away the bit of blood off her lip with the blanket.
“We brought you food.” She gives me an unsteady smile, and I squeeze her hand before walking to the table and digging out the food for her. Carter and Jude each take a moment with her, their murmured affection tender, but Faedra doesn’t relax the way she has the last two weeks during moments like this since finalizing everything with Council. Where she normally cuddles into us, she instead grows more reclusive, pulling her hands into her lap, her eyes growing reserved.
“Faedra,” I say, stopping at the foot of the bed. She looks up at me, her eyes wide. “What is it?”
Her hands tremble against her belly—and that’s the least like her I’ve seen. After an agonizing silence, she blows out a cautious breath.
“The...” She licks her lips and shakes her head, dropping her gaze. “The doctor just said something.”