Three hours had never passed so slowly for the people in the waiting room. The silence was deafening. Anytime the doors opened leading to the surgery room, the Harmonies glanced to see if Dr. Pratt would deliver good or bad news.
It was strange for no nurses to keep them informed of what was happening, which worsened the dread everyone felt.
When the surgeon walked through the doors, Michael, Nathan, Kate, Timothy, Ashley, Demetrius, Ricky, and even the nurses leaped from their seats. They each held their breaths in anticipation.
Dr. Pratt ripped off his mask and stared at the ghastly looks he hoped to never see again. He stared down at the floor, directed at the bewildered Archangel, and said, “Your daughter is fine.”
A chorus of sighs followed his reply, but the Harmonies knew it wasn’t over.
“You can’t see her until another hour; she needs her full rest before being disturbed,” continued Dr. Pratt, seeing frowns. “When you do see Sara, she might be confused, and if she asks what happened, don’t tell her until at least tomorrow. She needs to rest and not be simulated with worry right now.” Wiping sweat from his forehead, he breathed out, “She will need eight weeks to recover.”
Even though the surgeon hadn’t locked his eyes on anyone, he briefly glanced at Michael sternly and said, “I order in the instructions that when she is out-patient, there will be no missions for her. Slow and steady will help her heal quicker.” Dr. Pratt wasn’t sure directing commands at the leader of the Celestial Realm was the best move; however, if he learned anything from Dr. Pitch, his patient’s care should always be first before anything else.
“Also, make sure Sara is careful not to bump her head anytime soon because she can get into a concussion easier or even worse, a slime chance, but in a coma,” Dr. Pratt finished, watching the stun's complexion in front of him.
“She will be fine, right?” Kate queried with pressed, dry lips.
“Yes,” promised Dr. Pratt.
Kate bowed her head, and her eyes glistened. She was overjoyed that her friend was going to be alright. “Thank you for saving her life, doctor.”
A sad smile flickered on Dr. Pratt. He cleared his throat. “Well, if you don’t have anymore questions, I’ll get back to it.” He swung around and left, glad no one had any inquiries because he was exhausted from the surgery and pretending, he was fine.
Before Thomas Pitch disappeared in his lavish smoke, he gave instructions about Sara’s recovery. Dr. Pratt had been holding his breath in the surgery room, wondering if the High-warlock would kill him for his ill- manners. Yet, after being with Dr. Pitch for several hours, he put his differences aside to work with him. He was surprised at how precise Pitch was and how kindly he treated the surgical team.
Although Dr. Pitch was mostly quiet during the procedure, the surgeon could tell many thoughts were running through his mind that he knew he couldn’t even fathom.
Surprisingly, he didn’t hate Dr. Pratt and was elated to have someone open his eyes more from his cockiness. There were rumors that Sara had assisted in Pitch’s escape nine years ago, and it must’ve been true because why would he scoop in to save a Prowler? He would keep the information to himself; the poor girl didn’t need more hatred.
Dr. Pratt hadn’t liked Sara due to her demonic nature in the past. Nevertheless, seeing her on the operating table, he realized she was just a girl like anyone else, doing her best. As he neared his shift and triple-checked on the Prowler, he kept asking himself how Thomas Pitch knew Sara had been shot so soon. The surgery wore him down, and he shrugged off how Pitch got the information in the first place, going to his family after a long day.
***
Grogginess was the first sensation Sara felt when she began to slowly wake up. The lights above her blazed in her confused eyes. As she tried to sit up, her muscles spasmed with weakness, and she fell back on the hard, cushioned bed. It didn’t take her long to realize she was in a hospital room.
Sara ripped off the blanket and hoped she wasn’t wearing those ugly and dreadful hospital gowns. The hospital gown’s fabric itched unconformably on her. Being a fashionable person, she internally wept at the awful clothing she wore.
There was something cotton wrapped around her head. The side of her head stung in soreness, and her mind raced to what happened to have her in the hospital wing. The bullet in the sky flashed before her, and she shoved Kate aside, and then everything went black.
She groaned as her head throbbed and ached. Scootering towards the edge of the bed, something pulled on her arm. An IV in her arm was pulled from her movement, and her heart froze. Sara hated needles with a passion. Ripping off the bandage that held the IV in place, she looked away and yanked it out, dropping it on the floor.
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There were heart monitor stickers on her chest, and she ripped them off. The machine that monitored her heart beeped loudly. Sara had to get out of there fast, but her body was weak and she was unstable on her feet.
“Oh yes, take out the IV that was giving you pain medicine and also out your heart monitor so the nurses can have a heart attack that the Archangel’s daughter is currently dying,” Sal smirked, standing at the corner of the room with a crossed arm. His red eyes burned back at her as he teased: “You took a bullet for your friend, and now take off the machines helping you heal. Do you want to die or something?”
“With you nagging in my brain constantly, death seems to be the better option,” Sara snapped. She was baffled at hearing Sal announce she was shot, and it must’ve been to her head since it was bandaged and hurt like crazy. Her heart raced as she wondered if Kate was safe. “I need to find her.”
However, before she could take another step, a nurse dashed in and sighed in relief at finding the patient alive. Then the woman’s complexion turned into a sour look. “You need to get back into bed, young lady.” She gasped when she noticed the IV and the stickers lying on the floor. “What have you done?!” Going back to the hallway, the nurse yelled, “I need some backup here.” She turned back to the teenager and pointed angrily at the bed. “Sit back down.”
Sara shook her head and ran forward—well, walked as fast as she could due to her condition. The nurse turned to block her, yet as a skilled Prowler, she easily maneuvered her way past the woman and was off down the hallway.
Clutching the bars against the walls, the young assassin gritted her teeth from waking up from the anesthesia and drugs that the doctors pumped into her system that she had never had before. Agh, I feel like I’m going to puke and fall over. The ceiling spun around her, and dizziness hit her. She buckled to her knees, not used to all this medicine.
Nurses and doctors rushed to her side. They shouted at her for what she was doing and began helping her to her feet. Regardless of them giving her orders, a ringing in her ears erupted, and she moaned at the pitched sound, cupping her hands around her head. “It hurts.”
“It’s going to be okay, but you just can’t walk out,” someone said to her left.
“Is Kate, okay?” Sara whimpered. Her coal eyes glistened at thinking her friend was dead, and she collapsed back on the floor, her messy hair sweeping in front of her face.
A nurse smiled, “Katerina is perfectly fine.”
Sara began to cry. This crying wasn’t sad, but she rejoiced that everything hadn’t turned into hell when she was unconscious.
“You need to relax,” another nurse said. It took four nurses to lift Sara back up; they weren’t expecting to see slender, muscular arms from a young girl. “Can you walk?”
Sara nodded and let them help her walk back to the room. She sat back on the bed and saw a nurse begin an IV. Lurching back from her, she shuddered at the needle glinting in the light and swallowed fear. “No.”
“Sweetie,” the nurse with the IV kit began, “this will help you get fluids and the right kind of medicine that will ease the pain away from you.” Walking towards the pallid girl, she gently grabbed her arm. “I’ll make this quick, I promise. You won’t even feel a thing.”
The young assassin jumped up and shook her head. “Please no.” She didn’t know why she hated needles, but she couldn’t stand them. Needles had things that injected liquid into her that gave her no control over her mind or body.
“Get her father over her,” mumbled the nurse. While another nurse went to find Michael, she smiled and continued to talk to hopefully ease Sara down. “My name is Abby. You are Sara. Everyone has heard that you saved Kate; that is such an amazing thing you did. Your father must be so proud of you.”
All Sara was doing was eyeing if the nurse was getting closer to her with the needle.
Abby smiled even bigger. “Is there anything we can do to relax you a bit, honey?”
“No shots, no needles, no IVs, and pajama clothing,” answered Sara, never leaving her sight of the IV kit.
“Well, the doctor’s orders are for you to rest and get the proper medicine so you don’t feel pain and can heal up faster. This is for your good, I promise you. I can get pajamas for you; I know those hospital gowns aren’t the best to wear,” Abby said, putting the IV kit on a metal tray so the girl could ease up a bit.
Michael walked in, and his face widened with happiness. “Sweetie, I’m so glad to see you.” He came to her and hugged her lightly. “How is my baby doing?”
“Not good,” Sara replied. “She wants to give me an IV, and I don’t want one.”
The Archangel sat next to his daughter, putting his hand on her shoulder. “Sara, without the meds, you are going to be in a lot more pain, and I don’t want that for you. The IV is just one poke, and this allows her to give your needed shots through it, so no more needles.”
Sara wiggled her toes in her socks with nervousness. “I don’t know, Father.” She stared at his twinkling golden eyes and hugged him back. “Father, I’m so sorry.”
“There's nothing to apologize for. We can talk about this later; the doctor wants you to just rest for now.”
“I don’t want an IV,” pleaded Sara.
Michael knew her history of screaming as a child and getting pricked for lab work. “Do this for me, Sara, please. You can squeeze my hand as hard as you want. Don’t look at Abby when she gives you the IV, just look at me, and everything will be fine.”
“Okay,” Sara murmured, grabbing her father’s hand and gulping down more nerves. She knew it was pointless to fight this because she wouldn’t win. Her father was a patient man, and at the end of the day, he always got what he wanted.
Rolling the tray over, Abby beamed at her. “You are such a strong girl.” She opened the IV kit. Michael had Sara looking at him, and as the nurse continued to get ready for the IV, her body shook in panic. “I never heard an assassin be afraid of needles. It’s just like a sword, but a lot pointer.”
“It’s not the same,” shuddered Sara.
“Take deep breaths, you got this,” Abby said, and she grabbed Sara’s arm, which the young assassin had much reluctance about. “Now, no looking. I’m going to count to three, and it will be all over.”
Sara squeezed her eyes shut, and Michael had a strong hold on her.
“One…two...” Abby inserted the needle before she went to three. “And three! See, it’s not that bad at all.”
The world around Sara spun, her heart jumping in her chest. She looked at the IV in her arm and the next thing anyone knew, she fainted.