"Listen to me you sick bastard! Let me the fuck go!" Lindsay called after the man as he made his way up the stairs. He ignored her, of course, and she was left alone once more. She screamed furiously and writhed against the ropes that kept her bound to the wheelchair, determined to make him hear her.
Time passed, maybe minutes, maybe over an hour, and Heiter didn't return. Eventually her body forced her to stop, and she went limp against her restraints, panting heavily. Her throat burned horribly, and her yelling had made it hurt so very much more than it already had. Every time she swallowed it was as if she'd drank fire, it was so bad. For some reason, it was much worse at that moment than it had ever been before.
Her throat wasn't the only thing bothering her, she suddenly noticed. Her entire being ached. Her stomach twisted, her head throbbed, and she felt as if the room were freezing. Bile rose in her throat, and before she realized what was about to happen, she threw up the food she'd just eaten into her lap.
Exhaustion overtook her, and Lindsay fell into a deep sleep.
Heiter jerked awake, his sleep violently interrupted for an unknown reason. The man rolled over onto his back and gazed at the ceiling, his half aware mind worked to find what had woken him. The room seemed to be in order, nothing was different. A glance out the window showed him a normal, perhaps a bit chilly, night.
He sighed to himself and sat up, completely awake. What could possibly be wrong? It seemed to be a ordinary, calm, quiet...
That annoying girl wasn't making any noise. That was the problem, she was usually screaming her full head off well past the time it read on the clock. That was very strange for her to do, seeing as she appeared to be under the impression that bothering him was the only productive activity available to her.
Again, he sighed. He wasn't going to get any rest until he checked on her, was he? He stood and pulled his white coat on as he left the room.
He expected to hear her constant stream of complaints as soon as he went down the spiral staircase, but the basement was wearily silent. When he saw her, he knew why.
She was unconscious and covered in her own vomit. He lightly pressed a hand to her forehand, and found her sickly pale skin was very hot. The woman was obviously very ill. Was she breathing? He pressed two fingers to the artery in her throat and felt it throb, very softly and slowly. He let out a breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding.
Deciding he couldn't just let her sit there covered in sick, he untied her binds and carried her to the bathroom to clean her. Odd, she felt lighter than he would have imagined.
He placed her into the tub and ran some warm water. He was carful for it not to be too warm or too cold, and when the bathtub was halfway full he turned it off. She didn't move throughout any of this. He washed her gently with a soft sponge and made sure she was completely clean before draining the water. She was shivering in the cool air, so he quickly dried her off and took her to his room.
He lay her in the bed and pulled the covers over body. He heard a soft moan from her, but she was still unconscious. He grabbed a toung depressor and a flashlight and took a close look at her throat. It was red, raw and bleeding. It was also very clearly infected, he could see large yellow puss pockets everywhere. This must have been caused by all her constant yelling, and he wondered if this would convince her to be quiet once in a while.
He set up an iv to feed her medication, then lay next to her. It was unusual to see her and not hear her. In fact, it was slightly unnerving...
He rolled over with his back to her, and tried to go back to sleep. He didn't get far in his efforts, as the girl started to whimper and squirm, as if she were having a bad dream. He tried to ignore her, he really did, but it was starting to get on his nerves. When he could take it no more, he turned around and pulled her into his arms. She was still very feverish, and she trembled against him.
"Shh. Seien Sie immer noch." he murmured quietly as he stroked her hair. Despite his disdain for the girl, he couldn't help but smile to himself. This was something he'd wanted to do for a while now. "Es ist in Ordnung." Be still. It's all right.
He fell asleep holding her. And if he was going to be honest with himself, it was the best sleep he'd had in a long time.
Seien Sie immer noch: Be still.
Es ist in Ordnung: It's alright.