A/N: So, again with the updating thing... If you've been following this story, you'll be quite aware that I am quite a sporadic *cough*shitty*cough* updater. Due to some personal problems on top of being suffocated under homework, something had to give - in this instance, it was FF. But I'm back from my painfully long Hiatus (at least for now).
Anyhoo, have mercy and enjoy! (At least, those who are amazing enough to keep reading despite our lovely show's untimely demise and my updating awfulness.)
Oh, and I apologize in advance for having no medical knowledge whatsoever. Everything I know comes from my best friend who wants to be a surgeon (guess who gets roped into helping with the Biology revision).
My eyelids flicker, letting the bright white light through for nanoseconds. Don't worry, not that white light - it's the white light of the industrial-level lighting in the room I am in.
Something in my brain forces me to open my heavy lids, and suddenly, my world is flooded with more light, and the sound of voices, some hushed, others not. A tall woman with dark hair and clear green eyes in nurses' scrubs sees that I am awake, albeit barely, and calls for the doctor, a fortysomething redhead with glasses and a name tag that reads Dr. K Johnson.
'Hello,' she says pleasantly. 'Good to see you're awake. My name is Dr. Johnson.' Then, after examining my vitals, she says, 'all good,' to the nurse.
'Wh-where am I?' I ask groggily, trying to piece together the events that led to me being dressed in an infernal shapeless hospital gown.
'You're in hospital. You were in an accident.'
Images come flooding back as she utters those words: the splattering of rain on the windows, the headlights of a truck blurred by the water spilling from both my eyes and over the earth, the blaring horns of the vehicle before I crashed, the dull ache of pain my mind registered before the blackness...
'What happened to me?' I manage to choke out.
'Six broken ribs, a fracture to the left arm, a broken right arm, minor glass perforations to the skin, head trauma...' Dr. Johnson rattles off. 'Given the severity of the crash, it's rather miraculous that you survived without any more damage.'
'And the other car?' I ask, nervous. I know full well that it was my fault for driving whilst having a mental breakdown, and that whatever went down as a result of it is basically all my fault.
Dr. Johnson hesitates slightly. 'The other car was... not as fortunate. There were no fatalities, but the driver was severely injured.'
I sigh in relief, glad that I didn't actually kill someone because of my carelessness, but am still guilt-wrecked - someone innocent was hurt. It's not a good feeling.
'I'm glad they're okay,' I say.
Dr. Johnson flashes me a smile, sure to make whoever hammered the protocol of bedside manner into her head proud. 'I'm sure you're aware that the police will have to take your statement,' she says, 'and your insurance company will have to be informed about the damage to your car.'
'Of course,' I reply, mentally groaning. 'Oh, and Doc? When can I get out of here?'
'You've been healing nicely, so hopefully we can discharge you in a day or two. But, your arm will be in a sling for about six weeks.'
'As long as I'm walking, I'll be fine,' I reply.
Her pager beeps, signaling the requirement of her presence somewhere else. 'Sorry,' she says. 'I've got to go. If you need anything, let Clara here know,' she adds, referring to my dark-haired nurse, before the moves on to the next invalid.
So, I broke off my engagement on my wedding day, caused a car crash and now am in hospital because of it. Murphy's Law is becoming the story of my life more and more by the minute.
The pain medication these doctors have put me on has got to be incredibly strong, because I have been drifting in and out of consciousness for the last 48 hours. Images from the breakup with Adam and the crash are flashing in my mind's eye, and the lines between my nightmare and this reality have been blurry to say the least. That, or I banged myself up pretty bad, and the 5ml of morphine is doing its job.
At any rate, today is the day Dr. Johnson is going to discharge me, releasing me back into the world. To be honest, I don't know if I even want to go back. On one hand, I don't want to be isolated from the world forever, but considering the deep shit I'm in, staying in my safe little cocoon for a while hardly seems to be the worst case scenario.
I sign the last section of my discharge papers with a shaky left hand, seeing as my right hand is currently in a cast. I stand at the nurses' station, and wait for a nurse to bring me back my now-bloody wedding dress. It was completely ruined during the crash, but I've specifically asked that I be given it back, so I can burn it myself. I need to move on from the accident, and I feel that by seeing that girl, the girl who broke Adam's heart and led him on for almost a decade, go up in flames with the dress that she picked for a ceremony that didn't happen, can help me do that.
So I wait.
Soon enough, I begin rapping my knuckles against the counter in a subconscious display of frustration. I tap a beat to myself, letting my mind wander...
At long last, the nurse returns, a presumably soiled dress neatly placed in a large brown bag. It has been folded in such a way that I cannot see the blood (of which there is a great deal) even if I open the bag and peer into it.
'Here you go, miss,' says the nurse with a friendly smile. 'We didn't do anything to, just folded it to put away. Didn't think you'd want it changed if you want to back...'
'Yes, thank you,' I reply, perhaps quickly. I just want to get the bag and get out of here. The septic cleanliness and smell of antibiotic soap (two words: not nice) is making me more than just a little bit stir crazy. 'So am I all good to go?' I ask, wanting to make sure there are no last-minute changes that need to be made.
'Looks good. You are officially discharged,' replies the nurse. 'Take care now.'
'You too,' I say politely. 'Thank you so much for everything,' I add.
Breathing out in contentment, I make my way towards the exit.
That's when I hear it - the voice calling out to me.
'Cassie! Cassie Blake!'
At first I think it is a nurse reminding me that I have forgotten something, a purse or keys or something. Then, the realization that it is a male voice dawns upon me.
A very specific male voice. A male voice that even though it has been near a decade, has the same intonation when calling out my name.
Slowly, I turn around.
Oh god, I think. It's him.
A/N: Dun dun dun! So what do you think? As usual, you have three options.
1) Jake and Cassie have a loud, public confrontation in the hospital. (What do they say?)
2) Jake takes Cassie back to his place where they hash out all their drama, this time in a more private setting.
3) Cassie and Jake briefly catch up before she heads back home to Chance Harbor.
Up to you, as per usual. Once again, I'm SO SO SO sorry for going on hiatus. As you can tell, I have the whole 'temperamental artist' thing going on. That, or am lazy. You choose. ;-)
As always, reviews are appreciated.