Wildest Dreams Ch. 02

Chapter Two: Blame

The hospital. If there was one place Chase had hoped to never end up again, it was definitely the hospital. He still had nightmares frequently of his time spent in this very waiting room, wondering if he would ever see one of his best friends again. Now here he was, worrying that his brother might not make it through the night. They hadn't actually heard anything yet as to Gavin's condition, but all of them were on edge. More than half the family was waiting anxiously at home; the doctors only tolerated so many Wolfes in one waiting room, apparently.

If Chase had had to come back to the hospital no matter what, he wished it could have been for a happy occasion. For example, Sada was going into her third trimester, and he'd actually been looking forward to being there when the baby (another cousin, as if he didn't have enough already) was born. And then later when Xandri—who'd surprised them all at Christmas with her own announcement—had her baby, too. Chase would have looked forward to those hospital visits. And not just because he was having the time of his life picking on Quinn, who—despite being rather shrewd and intelligent—had taken longer than anyone else to figure out why Xandri had a ribbon tied around her belly.

His one comfort was that he had Miranda at his side. Since the day his boss, Mr. Ashford, had died, the two of them had grown even closer. Chase wasn't used to losing people he was so close to, and it had made him realize that a lot of the things that had seemed so big at the time were really just small and trivial. And he hadn't been the only one to get a real taste of mortality. Miranda had gotten the same rude awakening he had. Now, sometimes, after the restaurant was closed, they went up on the roof with some kind of alcohol (hot chocolate with mint schnapps in the winter) and got just drunk enough to ramble aimlessly about the deeper meaning of life. A rather strange pastime for Chase, but it was nice in some ways.

"You're very quiet," Miranda said, her voice a faint whisper in the near silence of the waiting room.

"I'm worried," Chase replied, a little sharper than he intended to.

"Well, I'm not," Miranda told him. "He might be a bit on the quiet side, but Gavin is still a Wolfe, and therefore much too damn stubborn to die of a little pinprick."

"Pinprick?" Chase snorted. "He'll be bitching and moaning about that for months."

Miranda looked at him and smiled. She was right, of course; she had to be. Gavin had been one of those skinny, sickly little kids, who'd bled buckets from a few little scratches. Sure, he was healthier now—no one packed him off to the hospital every time he sneezed—but he still tended to seem worse off than he really was. Chase remembered helping Ethan take care of Gavin when he'd been sick. He'd moan and groan in agony until they'd left the room, then sneak his Game Boy out from under his blankets once they were gone. She's right, Chase thought, he'll be fine.

A soft choking sound caught his attention. Sitting on the far side of the waiting room, huddled up in her chair, was Enid. She hadn't stopped crying since it had happened, but now she was trying to keep it quiet. For the first time since he'd met her, Chase realized he was angry with her. He hadn't really wanted to help Ethan with this work program of his, but once he'd been assured by his staff that they'd let him know if anything was wrong, he'd decided to give it a shot. After all, he was trying to be a more understanding and forgiving person. But Enid had never told him that there'd been a problem.

"Chase," Miranda said softly, as he moved to stand up. She rested a hand on his arm. "I don't think you should..."

"I won't make a scene," Chase promised. "I'm just going to talk to her."

At least, he hoped he wasn't going to make a scene. His desire to be a tolerant, forgiving person had ebbed a fair bit when he'd seen his brother lying on the ground, bleeding. Chase rose and crossed the room, to take a seat next to Enid. She started like a frightened rabbit, jerking her head up to stare at him. She even looked kind of like a frightened rabbit, with her eyes wide and her lips trembling so badly it made her nose twitch.

"You were supposed to tell me if they were making trouble," Chase said quietly, getting straight to the point. "Why didn't you?"

"I...I d-didn't think t-t-they'd...I mean...they weren't..." Enid stammered, choking on her tears. "They weren't bothering anyone else! Only me!"

"That's no excuse!" Chase snapped. The members of his family that were with him turned to look at them curiously. "Enid, you promised me! It was your responsibility to tell me if they were causing problems!"

She cringed, huddling down in her chair. He felt a little guilty at the look on her face, but he was still so angry. Chase hadn't even known Enid all that well when he'd hired her for his restaurant, back in September. He'd put a lot of trust in her, and in more than just this, and she'd failed. I just don't get it, he thought, raking his fingers back through his hair and letting out a frustrated sigh. Why didn't she tell me? Chase thought that he and Enid had an understanding. He never would have expected that she wouldn't come to him with this.

"I...I'm s-sorry..." Enid sniffled. She was up from her chair and out of the waiting room so fast, Chase barely had time to blink.

Across the room his cousin Gabe sighed and stood up. "Time to earn my keep," he muttered.

"What are you doing?" Chase asked, as Gabriel started after Enid.

"Damage control," Gabriel called back cryptically.

*****

It was freezing out, and dark too, but Enid didn't care. The tears on her cheeks practically froze to her skin, but she didn't care about that, either. Her throat was raw from screaming and her head ached badly, but all she could think about was Gavin. Chase is right, she thought, scrubbing futilely at her aching eyes. This is all my fault! She huddled against the outside of the building, keeping out of the way of anyone coming into the hospital. The last thing Enid needed was to get in anyone's way; she'd caused enough trouble for one night.

She couldn't even imagine why Gavin had done it. Enid knew what he thought of her; that she was some freakish stalker who had a dangerous crush on him. Of course, the fact that she tripped over herself—physically and verbally—every time he was around probably just helped that impression along. But she would never have thought he'd try to protect her from a knife-wielding maniac. Casey, sure, but never her. For a moment Enid wished she had In Solitary with her...but then she realized that that would just make her think of Gavin, rather than comfort her, like it usually did.

Standing there with her teeth chattering, she thought back to when she'd found the book. Enid had just gotten her driver's license and she had decided to do something her peers would never consider doing in a million years: go to a flea market. That was where she'd found the small paperback book, it's plain white color proclaiming, in solemn black letters, that it was called In Solitary, and that it was by someone named Gavin Wolfe. When she'd picked it up, she'd discovered it was a book of poetry. And since it was only fifty cents, Enid had bought it, even though she didn't like poetry.

Except that, when she'd gone home, she couldn't help actually reading it. And she'd felt such a connection with the mysterious Gavin Wolfe; his thoughts seemed very much like her own. Enid had gone to the bookstore the next day to see if there were any others. There'd been one, and it had been expensive, but she'd bought it anyway. She'd found a very small website that told her the next book was due to be released within the next year. It had taken two, but she'd waited patiently nonetheless. Enid had even picked up a new copy of In Solitary—one of the nice, leather bound reprints—since she ended up reading hers so much, it had started to fall apart.

"Enid?"

She nearly jumped out of her skin. The voice cut through her thoughts, bringing her back to the present. The last person she expected to see was Gabriel Wolfe, standing only a few feet away and looking down on her with an expression that she thought might be concern. Gabriel always reminded her somewhat of her Uncle Sam—Miranda's father—in that he was the patriarch of his family, always in control of the situation. Except Enid was pretty sure that Uncle Sam would much rather be married to someone like Aislinn, rather than Aunt Georgia.

"It's cold out here," Gabriel said quietly. "Why don't you come inside?"

Enid shook her head. "Everyone's mad at me."

"That's not true," Gabriel said. "You know that's not true."

"Chase is mad at me," Enid pointed out. "He's absolutely furious..."

"Chase is just scared," Gabriel told her. He leaned up against the wall next to her. "He's not recovering all that well from what happened to him last fall."

Enid stared down at her toes. I know that, she thought. I know he's having trouble...but... It still hurt, him yelling at her like that. Certainly he had to know that she never meant for Gavin to get hurt. Didn't Chase realize that she was berating herself enough for the two of them, and then some? She folded her arms across her chest and started to wish that she'd brought her coat with her. Much to Enid's surprise, Gabriel took of his own coat and settled it around her shoulders. She looked up at him, her eyes wide, but he just smiled.

"Have you ever lost someone you were close to, Enid?" Gabriel asked, in a quiet voice that she found incredibly soothing.

"Yes, actually," Enid replied, looking back down at her toes. "I understand, really, how Chase feels...you know, when I was fourteen, I volunteered at a nursing home. It was a school project."

"Really?" Gabriel's eyebrows rose. "I always hated those."

"I did too, at first," Enid admitted. "They assigned me to a cranky old guy that everyone called Red. He used to go on a lot about how kids don't ever listen to their elders, so one day I just sat down and told him to start talking."

She remembered the look on his face, too. He'd been so startled that for a minute or two he just sat there, gaping at her. Enid's classmates had always accused her of showing off, because she'd actually taken the time to know Red, and even the other residents at the home. When she'd continued to go there, even after the class project was over, not only her classmates but the girls she hung out with—the daughters of rich businessmen that her father associated with—had told her she was crazy. Enid was pretty used to that, though.

"Anyway," she went on, "he always had a lot to say, actually. He was really smart and he knew all sorts of interesting things. And he used to tell stories about all the places he'd traveled to, and the things he'd seen." Enid paused, smiling fondly. "To be honest, I always kind of thought he was making them up."

Gabriel chuckled. "Probably," he agreed. "But you know, I imagine it meant a lot to him, having someone to listen."

Enid nodded. She could feel tears stinging her eyes again. God, she thought, swiping at her cheeks. There are broken faucets that leak less than me! Her tears came to an abrupt halt, though, when Gabriel suddenly put his arms around her and pulled her close. Aside from startling the hell out of her, she also suddenly felt really awkward. Sure, he was a really nice guy and all, but Enid had that whole touching thing, and it tended to kick in even if someone was as kind as Gabriel. It had taken her awhile to get used to Chase, who was awfully touchy-feely.

"Poor muffin," Gabriel murmured soothingly, gently stroking her hair. "What have they done to you?"

She should have asked him just what he meant by that. Heck, she probably should have told him to let go of her. Instead, for some reason, Enid found herself crying again. Not just crying, either; she broke down into loud, agonized sobs and couldn't quite fathom why. Maybe it was Gabriel's kindness. Had her father caught her crying like this, he would have yelled at her to stop. Crying wasn't allowed in the Fox household, because it was annoying and distracting. Enid had never actually had anyone hold her like that, and it was as if something inside of her broke. She couldn't stop herself, and eventually she stopped trying.

Enid wasn't sure just how long she cried for—certainly long enough that her head ached all the way down to her teeth. At one point she thought she heard Gabriel speaking very quietly to someone, but it felt so distant, almost as if it was a dream. She didn't even realize that she was clinging to him until she slowly started calming down. Embarrassed, she let go of him and wriggled out of his grip. Enid's cheeks burned as she looked up at him. Gabriel just smiled gently and laid a hand on her head, as if she was just a scared little kid who'd had a nightmare.

"I...I'm sorry..." Enid stammered. "I didn't mean to...to cry all over you like that..."

"Don't worry," Gabriel said, putting an arm around her shoulders. "That's my job."

"I thought your job was to deal with kids like Nick," Enid said, as they started slowly back towards the hospital entry.

Gabriel nodded. "That too," he said. He grinned down at her. "To be perfectly frank, I'd rather be a human tissue any day, than have to deal with Nick. He's gotten himself into a whole mess of trouble."

"Serves him right," Enid muttered, scowling. "How can you even do it? Work with people like that, I mean."

"Do you think Nick really wants to end up locked up?" Gabriel asked her. "He wasn't going to actually hurt you...he just wanted to scare you. And he's pretty upset about the whole thing."

Wasn't going to hurt me? Enid thought, incredulously. He had a knife to my throat, for crying out loud! Maybe Gabriel was a little but too kind. Okay, perhaps it wasn't actually Nick's intention to stab Gavin—everything had happened so fast—but he'd still had the knife in the first place. What makes a person so violent? she wondered. Why would anyone act like that? Looking up at Gabriel, Enid got the feeling that he knew why. There was a sorrowful expression in his dark eyes; he knew all the things about the kids he tried to help, that had made them how they were.

"There's always more than one side to the story, Enid," Gabriel said quietly. "We know that Gavin tried to protect you from Nick, yes? And you think it's your fault that he got hurt. But don't you think maybe it's partially his own fault, for trying to be the hero?"

Enid shook her head. "No!" she said emphatically. "That's ridiculous!"

"Is it?" Gabriel sighed. "Enid, Gavin is family and I care about him. But, as much as I would love to believe that this was an act of selflessness, you and I both know it wasn't. He should have come to me or Ethan, but he didn't, for a very petite, redheaded reason."

Enid bit the inside of her cheek to keep herself from speaking. Gabriel had been kind to her. She didn't want to get angry at him, but she didn't think that was really fair. Still, deep down there was a small, cynical part of her that told her she was kidding herself, if she really thought that Gavin's main concern had actually been her. He saved me, Enid thought stubbornly. People don't have to have selfish motivations for everything they do. Certainly the person who'd written all the poems in In Solitary wasn't like that.

"Anyway," Gabriel said, obviously noticing that she was upset. "While you were busy giving Niagara Falls a run for its money, Gavin came out of surgery. He's going to be fine.

Enid almost went weak with relief. "Thank god!" She paused. "How long have we been out here?"

"Long enough," Gabriel said dryly, as he steered her through the hospital doors. "They're letting Chase go down to recovery to see Gavin, since he was so upset. Would you like to go too?"

Enid didn't really think she deserved to go, but... I want to see him, she thought. I want to see for myself that he's okay. She wouldn't have asked, but Gabriel must have realized that she, too, needed to reassure herself that Gavin was all right. Now that she'd cried herself out—and she was back inside, where it was a great deal warmer—she felt a little better. Well, with perhaps the exception that she had a massive headache, had gotten the man she adored stabbed, and had probably lost her job while she was at it. And that, she thought, as Gabriel started leading her down the corridor, is a day in the life of Enid Fox! God help me...

*****

There. He'd actually gotten his eyes open enough—for the briefest of seconds—to see light. At least, Gavin thought it was light. He was pretty foggy from whatever the hell they'd given him. Considering the faint, almost unnoticeable ache somewhere low on his body, foggy was probably good. Only he was pretty sure he heard his brother's voice, and he'd like to get his eyes open to see. If that was really Chase talking, then this was a hospital bed, and not some small place in purgatory where he constantly felt like he was being stifled by pillows. Then again, Gavin thought, as he scraped together some coherency, I've had conversations with Chase that were somewhat akin to hell.

On his next attempt he actually managed to get his eyes open and keep them that way. He'd done it once earlier, too, but had drifted back off again. Turning his head slightly, he saw Chase sitting next to the bed, with Miranda standing behind him. Asshole, Gavin thought. Let the woman sit. Actually, though, Miranda looked in much better shape than Chase did. He'd never seen his brother looking so pale and...scared. At least, not since that whole thing last summer.

"That's some good shit they gave you, huh, bro?" Chase said, his smile a pale ghost of his usual teasing one.

"The best," Gavin managed. His voice came out slurred.

Chase chuckled. "Did they inject you with a sense of humor or something?"

"Doubtful," Gavin said. He really wished he didn't sound like a total drunkard. "That would feel good. This feels very..."

"Sort of feel like you're trying to swim through molasses?" Chase asked, grinning.

Gavin managed a faint nod. He turned his head slightly in the other direction and saw Aislinn and Gabriel, with a small, frightened figure some feet behind them. Enid, he thought. That's when his memory of what had happened came back to him. He'd gotten a knife through the gut because she'd been foolish enough to go out there with those boys alone. Enid stood there, frozen to the spot, staring at him. He could see that her eyes were swollen and her nose was red. What is she even doing here? Gavin wondered. Shouldn't she be out getting someone else stabbed?

That was about the extent of his anger at the moment, though. It was hard to be angry when one could barely move. And when one was being stared down by the most extraordinary eyes known to mankind. Gavin could hardly believe that that was the one detail he remembered clearly. Obviously the drugs were effecting him more than he'd realized. How was it that her eyes—soft, misty gray with hints of blue and violet swirling in them—were the one thing that wasn't slipping from his thoughts like water from a sieve? Obviously, Gavin thought, closing his eyes, I need to sleep off these drugs.