Dylan let out a sigh of relief as the warm breeze blew through her hair, it was the first time in almost three weeks that she had felt the sun on her skin — even if she did have to be wheeled outside by a porter. The first two weeks she had been held hostage in the basement of the cinema, and for the better part of the third week she had been confined to a hospital bed.
Lily poked her head into the hospital room for what felt like the millionth time. Watching her friend’s eyes flutter open, she gave a silent thanks to whatever thing must be in charge of the world. Up until now, she’d been terrified that she’d hear the panicked beeping of an irregular heartbeat or, even worse, the eerie silence of a patient who had flatlined. Despite the fact that she wanted nothing more than to cry at the sight of one of her best friends looking so awful, she summoned all her cheeriness and smiled. People didn’t go to Lily to commiserate, they went to her to be distracted. She’d distract Dylan for as long as it took. “Hiya, gorgeous,” she said, strolling into the room. “Life’s been awfully quiet without you, the world needs you to keep things interesting.” After pulling a chair over next to the bed, she sat down. “You wouldn’t believe the kinds of stories you hear in this hospital. Weird sex injuries, people doing crazy shit on dust, it’s better than any show I’ve ever seen. Makes our lives look downright normal.”
"Well, as you can see, the world’s just going to have to keep on spinning without me for a little while longer." Even with the help of the water she hadn’t stopped drinking from the bottle that Maggie had supplied her with before Lily had arrived, her voice still sounded strained. Dylan plastered a soft smile across her lips, not wanting to reveal the full extent of her exhaustion to Lily in fear that the girl might offer to leave her to get some rest. That wasn’t what Dylan wanted, much to her own discomfort at how needy and vulnerable it made her feel. She wasn’t one to ask for help, or to even ask anything of anyone really.
Silver frowned, rising from her chair. “That’s not right. Someone should be in here now.”
Dylan shrugged, she honestly didn’t care that the doctors weren’t here giving her the information everybody else seemed to want. She was far from admitting it, but she wanted to be around familiar and friendly faces. Not surrounded by doctors who looked at you like you were just another surgery to them.
”What did they do to you…” It was a whisper, more to himself than to her. He was not like Silver, moved by a brewing rage, nor like John, whose logic would blind him and fear bind his limbs. It was opposites, and Robbie was the neutral ground, impartial. (Unable, actually.) Yet, the indignation coloured his tone. “What did the doctors say?”
Dylan didn’t answer his question, whether it was aimed at her or not. It wasn’t something she wanted to delve into right now, she had lived the horrors of her injuries once. She was in no rush to relive them any time soon. “Nothing yet, they haven’t had a chance to drop by with everyone else dropping in.”
He was sorry for plenty of things: for what had happened to them, for not taking the out earlier, for being way too obedient, for being how he was. For letting that happened. Nothing was his fault, of course, still he couldn’t stop the what ifs from coming to mind. Robbie shrugged, making his way to her side on the bed.
She followed him around the room with her eyes, studying his expression in the time it took him to make his way around to the side of her bed. He always had this look on his face, like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders as well as the lost boy’s fate. She wouldn’t let him carry her burdens for her, they were hers and hers alone. Nobody else’s.
It was a relief to hear her voice, his shoulders relaxed slightly, almost unnoticiably. “I’m sorry.”
"For what?" Dylan frowned, confused at what he had to be feeling guilty for. It wasn’t like he was the reason she and Nibs had been subjected to two weeks of torture.
Silver sat there for a moment, unsure what to do or what to say. She could apologize but something told her it would fall on empty ears. She could reach for her but Silver might end up causing pain. So she sat, her gaze on all the bandages, the blood seeping through. “How long are you stuck in here for anyway?”
"I don’t know." Dylan shrugged, of all the questions that had been running through her mind since she had woken up, that surprisingly hadn’t been one of them. Normally, she would have wanted to get out of here as quickly as possible, but with the exhaustion her body had been through the rest was welcomed and appreciated. "I haven’t seen a doctor yet, you’re the second person I’ve seen."
"Once you’re a bit more healed up." Maggie responded softly but firmly. She couldn’t tell if Dylan did need anything else but knew it was probably wise not to push. "Then, hell yes."
Dylan sighed, she knew what Maggie was saying was reasonable and sensible. The one thing Dylan had prouded herself in being when it came to her line of work, but when it came to her partner, she found herself wanting to take a leaf out of his reckless and stupid handbook.
"Will you tell me how he’s doing then, and don’t sugar coat it."
He didn’t like hospitals, it was an obvious aversion leaning to irrational fear — but he had to be there. Robbie was standing outside, nails digging on his palms, eyes casted down; he was both hold himself to not run away from that place as quickly as possible and from entering her room and not leaving by any means. The hitman took the latter, entering the place only to notice she was already awake. “Dylan.”
"Robbie, Hey." Dylan was slightly confused to see him darkening her hospital doorway, he was the last person she expected to come and visit her. It’s not like they weren’t friends, but they weren’t exactly staying up late to braid each other’s hair either. Still, any friendly face was welcome at the moment. Even if you could argue that Robbie’s face wasn’t always so friendly or welcoming for that matter.
Silver sat down in the uncomfortable hospital chair, smiling apologetically as Dylan pressed on her ribs. “Sorry. Forgot that laughter is dangerous right now.”
"I would ask how you are feeling but I think that’s a stupid question.’
"Five by five." Dylan said, even after everything she had been through, she was still able to keep that sarcastic air to herself. It surprised and scared her sometimes at just how much she could endure and still face what ever danger she faced with a witty and sarcastic quip. It made her question just how closed off she’d come over the last few years, how desensitised she’d become to the world around her and how untouchable she’d become to feel. Being with the Lost Boy’s though, having people she thought she could actually care about, it had put into perspective just how fragile her mortality actually was.