Sweet Talk Ch. 06

"He's...he's a goddamn psycho," Andreas hissed from the floor, his split lips oozing blood. "You saw him. He should be in jail."

"Motherfucking—"Jason lunged at Andreas, but Sam held him back, slammed him up against the wall.

"Jason, stop!"

"That's it," the security guard said at the same time, approaching Jason as he pulled out a pair of cuffs. "Sir, turn around, and put your hands behind—"

"N-no! Please..." Across the room, from the edge of the bed, Anna stood up, unsteadily.

Jason looked over his shoulder at her. He'd almost forgotten she was there. All he'd been able to think about, to process, was that Andreas had hurt her, and the bastard needed to die for it.

Looking at her now, though, his stomach pitted. She was standing, but there was something off about it. She had to brace herself against the side of the bed; her eyes were wide and glassy, her skin washed in a fine sheen of sweat.

And, even as he looked at her, Jason could see her swaying, trying to keep her balance.

"Jesus, Anna," Sam said, taking a step toward her, "are you—"

"Stop!" The security guard, came at Sam this time. "No one moves until the cops get here."

Jason swore, moving toward Anna. "There's something wrong," he snapped. "She needs to see a doctor."

The guard glared at Jason. "Not until—"

"Get the fuck out of my way," Jason ground out. He seriously didn't want to go to jail tonight, but if this asshole didn't move--

"Jay..." Anna's voice, thready and light, interrupted his rage. He looked at her, and terror washed over him as he literally saw the blood drain from her face. She took a choppy, unsteady step toward him and, for a brief moment, their eyes locked—and he saw the exact second when hers began to roll back in her head.

Swearing, he shoved the security guard away, vaulted over the destroyed bed, and caught her just as she sank to the floor, unconscious.

# # # #

Jason stared at the second hand on the clock in the emergency room waiting room. The cops had just left, after taking his and Sam's statements. They'd arrested Andreas, but even though all of that, through all of the questions and accusations, Jason'd been counting each and every second that'd ticked by for over an hour.

Ever since the ambulance had arrived with an unconscious Anna inside.

He couldn't do this. There'd be no word. No updates about her condition. No nothing.

Jesus, he'd never been so close to losing his fucking mind than in these last few, endless hours. When they'd arrived in the ambulance, he'd damn near gotten himself escorted out by security when the emergency room staff tried to make him back off from the gurney Anna was strapped to.

In the end, the only thing that calmed him down was a nurse telling him that as soon as they had a chance to check Anna out and see what was wrong, they'd let him see her.

For now, all he and Sam could do was wait.

He looked at Sam over his shoulder. "That son of a bitch better hope he doesn't get out on bail while I'm still anywhere near Chicago."

Sam nodded. "Even if he does, I doubt he'll come anywhere near the hotel again." He looked at Jason, his expression grim. "Since I'm pretty sure he already accomplished exactly what he set out to do."

Jason flinched, still stared, at the far wall, the muscles in his jaw bunching. "This was all about him fucking with my head. If he'd wanted to, he could've..." He swallowed convulsively, barely feeling the throb in his knuckles as he clenched his hands, "He could've...raped her. There was time. She'd been gone, ten, maybe fifteen minutes before I found them."

Sam was silent.

The silence, the waiting, was torture. Swearing, Jason shoved out of his chair. He couldn't just fucking sit here, drinking stale coffee, while Anna was back there, all alone.

Because of him.

If he hadn't been such an asshole to her, if he'd just shut the fuck up and let her talk to him when she'd asked, none of this would've ever happened. Andreas wouldn't have had the chance to—

"Motherfucker!" A chair slammed against the far wall, propelled by the furious momentum of Jason's kick.

"Sir!" The nurse at the desk, the same one who'd calmed him down earlier, jumped to her feet, a phone receiver already cradled in her hand. "Do I need to call security? Or, can I help you with something that doesn't involve destroying hospital property?"

Jason turned on her. "Yeah, you can help me, by telling me what the fuck is going on back there. It's been almost two hours!"

The entire waiting room, everyone, was looking at him like he'd gone crazy. And he was going crazy. If Anna wasn't okay....fuck the police, fuck the law, and fuck anyone else who tried to get in his way. He'd gladly go to jail, if it meant he got the chance to choke the life out of Andreas with his bare hands.

The nurse looked visibly flustered. "I can't tell you anything until the doctor—"

"Fuck the doctor!" he seethed, advancing on the desk.

"Jason, what the hell?" Sam grabbed him by the shoulders, bodily shoved him out of the waiting room, and into the foyer between the two sets of sliding glass doors leading outside.

Jason pushed him off, rounded on him, breathing hard. "Don't fucking touch me!"

Sam stood his ground. "Look, I'm worried about her, too, but why can't you just sit down, and wait for the doctor to come out?"

Jason shook his head, his chest heaving with the effort to breathe. "You don't get it," he gritted out.

"Yeah, I do. I get—"

"No you don't!" He shoved past Sam, back into the now-silent, waiting room, barely able to suppress the overwhelming urge to break something. "She's all I have." The fight left him and he sank down to sit on the edge of one of the chairs, raked a shaking hand over his face. He didn't look at Sam, couldn't look at him. "She's all the family I fucking have left," he rasped, the words like acid in his throat. "And I-I was such an asshole to her earlier. I made her leave the bar tonight, and now..."

Christ. He couldn't take this. Couldn't think. Couldn't breathe right.

Not until Anna opened her eyes. Looked at him. Said everything was okay.

As if on cue, a nurse appeared from behind the desk. "Who's here with Annalise Marsh?"

Jason stood. "I am."

The woman, who looked to be barely thirty years old, eyed him up and down. Under completely different circumstances, Jason might've found her attractive. Right now, though, he couldn't have cared less.

"Are you family?" she asked.

He didn't even pause to think. "Yeah, we're family."

She nodded, just once, indicating for him to follow her. They'd gotten Anna situated in a private room off the emergency room, and the nurse let Jason in so he could sit with her. She was still pale as death, and mostly unconscious, though she had started mumbling a little bit, like she was talking in her sleep.

He sat down on the single, hard-backed chair, next to the bed, and grasped her hand. Without even looking at the nurse, he asked, "Is she okay?"

There was a long, unsettling pause, before she responded, "The doctor will be in to talk to you in a few minutes." Then, she was was gone. And, once again, all Jason could do was wait.

Through every second of it, he held her hand, staring at her chest to make sure she was still breathing, counting every damn inhale and exhale, like he could will her to wake up, be okay.

It took almost an hour before the curtain surrounding the bed slid along the metal rod attached to the ceiling, and the doctor, a middle-aged man with graying temples, stepped inside, a clipboard under his arm.

"How're we doing tonight?" he asked, a business-like smile touching his lips.

"Been better," Jason said, flatly. "Do you know what's wrong with her?"

The doctor pursed his lips, studying Anna's still form before looking at Jason. "We can't be sure until the toxicology report comes back, but we think she was given a drug called ketamine."

"Ketamine?" he repeated. "What the hell is that?"

"It's primarily an animal tranquilizer, but it's also abused as a recreational drug. In small doses, it produces hallucinations or a state of extreme relaxation, which is why it's often used as a..." the doctor trailed off, looking suddenly uncomfortable. Clearing his throat, he went on, "to put it bluntly, it's often used as a date rape drug."

Blood started pounding past Jason's ears at the reality that Andreas, that fucking piece of shit, had actually drugged Anna.

Jason slammed his eyes closed, and breathed out hard through his nose. "Jesus Christ."

If he hadn't found Anna when he had...

In that moment, he thought, very seriously, about tracking Andreas down and killing him. Just ending the fucker's miserable existence. He'd be doing a whole lot of people a favor, if he did. Bowing his head, he counted down, slowly, from ten to one, even though he knew it wouldn't do anything to calm him down, or take the edge off the fact that the only thing keeping him from finding Andreas and kicking his face in was the fact that Anna needed him right now.

She needed him more than he needed to hurt Andreas.

After moment, he gritted his teeth and peered up at the doctor. "She's going to be okay, though, right?"

The older man nodded. "I don't see any reason why not. All things considered, ketamine's a relatively safe drug. The major effects only last a few hours, at most, so as soon as she wakes up, if everything seems okay, she'll be cleared to go home."

After a few more questions, the doctor left, and Jason stared at the steady rise and fall of Anna's chest like his life depended on it. Which...in a completely real way, it did.

Then, finally, after another hour, her lashes fluttered, and she opened her eyes. Jason almost choked on his relief. Scooting closer to the bed, he pulled her hand into his lap, smoothing the damp tendrils of her hair away from her face as she blinked, looked around.

After two or three minutes, her eyes focused, and she looked at him.

She didn't speak. He wanted to pull her off the bed, into his lap.

He didn't though. Just smiled a shaky smile. "Are you...are you okay?" His voice broke and, unable to look her in the eye, he leaned forward, pressed his forehead into the soft, warm pliancy of her belly. In the horrible, obtrusive scents of the hospital, all of the terrible memories those smells brought back from when Nate and Charlie had died, he sucked in the familiar, cinammony smell of her skin.

He felt one of her hands come to rest against his hair, and shuddered. His throat closed up, and for a long second, he genuinely thought that he might cry in front of her.

"What...what happened?" she rasped. He looked up at her; didn't know what to say. Telling her that Andreas was a miserable asshole who'd drugged her to get back at him didn't seem right, for some reason. But, a moment later, her eyes widened. "Oh my God, Andreas put something in my drink, didn't he?"

Jason clenched and unclenched his jaw, trying to tamp down the overwhelming fury and regret threatening to choke him. "Anna..." he said, at last, "I...am so sorry."

He truly almost did cry, then. Because, instead of accusations, or fear, she closed her eyes for a minute, before opening them again and, on a shuddering breath, said, "Just so we're clear... I will never drink another mojito in my life."

They released her two hours later. It was nearing five in the morning by the time they grabbed a taxi from the hospital and, back at the hotel, Jason made Sam switch rooms with them.

There was no way in hell Anna was ever setting foot back inside that room, again.

As Jason was gathering up their stuff, Sam stood by the closed door, watching him. "Is she okay?"

Jason didn't look at him. "No. Not really. She's saying she is but..." he breathed out, hard, shoving the last of his clothes into his duffle. "I don't...I don't know."

Sam was silent for a minute. Then, as Jason stood, and crossed the room, he spoke. "This isn't your fault, you know? None of it."

Jason met his gaze, could feel the concern washing off him. He knew, without asking, that Sam was wondering if he'd go off the deep end again, like he had with Rachel.

He wouldn't though. There wasn't time for any of that shit. Anna needed him.

"She'll be okay," he said, then easing past Sam, he left the hotel room.

When he left himself into Sam's room, Anna was asleep on the bed, curled into a ball on top of the covers. He dropped their bags by the door, and walked over to the bed, planning to pick her up, slide her in under the covers. But the sound of his approach awakened her.

She sat up, her eyes bleary. "I...I didn't mean to fall asleep," she said, pushing her hair out of her eyes. "I know you've got competition in less than an hour, so..." she slid off the bed, and began pulling shower products out of the bag he'd retrieved for her, "I'm gonna take a shower. See if I can get the smell of the hospital out of my hair."

Jason nodded, watching her. Then, when she had a handful of her shower things, he followed her to the bathroom, stood just inside the door, watching her arrange her stuff, turn the shower on.

She turned toward him. "Jay, I know you're worried about me, but I promise, I'm perfectly capable of showering on my own."

A long, penetrating silence stretched between them. Then, Jason swore. She was right. He was acting crazy. "Christ." He sat down, heavily, on closed toilet seat lid and shoved a hand through his hair. "I-I'm sorry. I just...when you fainted..." He swallowed hard. "I've never been so damn scared in my life."

"Jay," she murmured, coming toward him, running a hand across his hair, then down to knead at the impossibly taut muscles of his neck, "it's alright."

Somewhere, deep down, he realized how fucked up it was that, after what she'd gone through, she was the one comforting him. But, after everything Andreas had done to her, because of him...he felt like he couldn't get enough air into his lungs, couldn't get his body to accept the fact that she was okay.

He reached up, snaked an arm around her waist, hugged her tightly to him, for the moment, not caring if he was being too rough. She'd been awake, alert and talking, for almost three hours now, but he still couldn't seem to calm down, couldn't stop shaking.

It was crazy, but if anything had happened to her...there was nothing, and no one, in this world that could've ever made him feel whole again.

"Say you're okay," he gently demanded, looking up at her, searching her face. "Say we're okay." He dragged her into his lap, buried his face in her hair. This girl he'd grown up protecting, looking after; the only family he had left in the world.

He'd been such an asshole to her, done so much to push her away because he couldn't deal with all of shit he was starting to feel for her, the way he was starting to see her. None of that mattered though, if she forgave him, if they could get past this, all of this shit that his anger and jealously and fear had started.

"We're okay," she whispered. "We're always okay."

"God, Anna, I am so sorry. I should've been there, I should've been with you, and I..."

"Shhh," she re-settled herself in his lap, moving closer, bringing him nearer to her, her cheek pressed against his, her breath hot against his skin. Then, like she'd done a hundred, a thousand times before, she began pressing light , comforting kisses along his cheek, hugging him to her. Saying, without words, that she forgave him. Trusted him.

And, before he realized what he was doing, he'd turned to face her, her sweet, gentle breaths brushing against his lips now, and their eyes aligned.

Somehow, though they were barely touching, he could feel her pulse, her heartbeat, in his fingertips. He needed her to be real, needed to feel that she was okay, that she didn't hate him.

That, no matter what, she still loved him.

He needed that. Needed her.

In that moment, there was nothing else that mattered to him.

And, then, he was kissing her.

_______________________________________

I know, I know. I suck. I've been MIA, and I'm sorry.

For anyone who's interested, please see my profile for info. regarding future updates.

Either way, happy reading.

~Eve