The slow, steady sound of beeping was the first thing Jack heard as consciousness returned to him. It reminded him of an alarm, so reflexively he tried to shift his hand to reach for the source, only for something in his arm to tug back against the motion with small pinpricks of pain. The sensation brought on clarity to his mind, bring forth the most recent memories to mind. The image of the monster caused his eyes to shoot open in alarm.
What greeted him was the image of a white ceiling, and the scent of medicine and cleaner. Looking down, Jack noted that he was in bed dressed in hospital clothes. He was in a hospital, apparently. Either that, or. . . actually he couldn’t think of any other reasonable possibilities to his location.
“Guess they found us after all,” he mused aloud. Jack looked around his room, but didn’t find anything else worth looking at in the small room. Mentally, he considered how much this stint in the hospital would cost him even with insurance. Did the restaurant policy actually help cover this? ‘Got to love the American health care system. First thing you wake up to is wondering what the bill will be,’ he couldn’t help but think darkly.
The sound of an opening door caught his attention, and Jack watched a female nurse enter the room quietly with a clipboard under her arm. Jack found it odd she was more visible than she should have been given the dark room.
“I’m awake, no need for sneaking around,” Jack spoke up weakly, causing the woman to jump slightly, startled.
“Oh, forgive me,” she apologized. “I didn’t think you’d be awake.”
“Because, I was badly injured?” Jack asked carefully.
“Because its 4 in the morning,” the nurse corrected, moving around the bed to inspect some of the machinery. “Let me just note your numbers and then get the doctor.”
“You can’t answer my questions?” he wondered.
The nurse shrugged. “Technically, I could probably answer your questions, but its hospital policy. Wouldn’t want the help to confuse the patient and cause a lawsuit, or something or other. It’s politics.”
“Kind of salty aren’t you,” Jack noted.
“As I said, its 4 in the morning,” the nurse reminded him, jotting a few things down on her clipboard. “I have two more hours before my shift is over, and then I’m hitting the hay in time for the sun to greet me. Or, at least what this city has for morning sun anyway.” She tapped the clipboard several times before nodding. “Well, it would appear everything is in order, so I’ll get the doctor.”
“I thought doctors didn’t do third shifts?” Jack asked.
“Doctor, doctors, no,” the nurse agreed. “But there are plenty of residents on staff, even if you hadn’t entered through the ER, where there’s always emergency doctors on staff.” Having explained, the nurse walked out of the room and closed the door behind her.
‘Guess she’s not a local,’ Jack thought to himself. ‘Or there are people need a little more sunshine.’
He didn’t have long to ruminate about things before the door opened again, this time by an older, but still attractive Jack couldn’t help but note, lady doctor in a white coat. Unlike the nurse, the doctor had a modern tablet under her arm, which she whipped out as she sat and swiped through some information.
“Well, Mr. Jack Smith,” the lady doctor began, “it would seem you had quite the rough night.”
“Honestly, I think you know more about my night than I do,” he confessed. “Have to admit, it gets a bit blurry at some point.”
“I’d imagine so,” the doctor said dryly, but with good humor. “Especially with that bandage over your eye.”
Jack blinked, and tried to shakily raised an arm before the doctor stopped him carefully.
“Let’s walk through this together,” she said, raising her tablet to scroll through. “Well, it would appear you suffered quite the nasty attack. Various degrees of physical trauma across your body, though nothing worse than some rather ugly bruises here and there. Some rough and tumble abrasions on your hands and arms consistent with a fight, nothing too serious. The main issue,” she pointed at Jack’s face, “are the injuries to your face and neck. They aren’t deep, but you’ll have a faint three-line scar for the rest of your life. They also bled out a good deal through your ordeal, and combined with your internal injuries you lost enough blood to warrant an IV drip, but not a blood transfusion. Then, there’s your eye.”
Jack blinked, and then realized that his sight, quote on quote, was actually half of what should have been. He raised up his hand in confusion, only to touch what felt like a bandage over his left eye. The strange part, however, was that his left eye was in darkness, but rather a blurry grey that somehow blended naturally with his right eye’s normal sight. Closing his right eye returned his vision to the expected black darkness.
“Whatever weapon your assailant used, you’re lucky it wasn’t longer,” the doctor continued without pause. “Your forehead deflected the blow initially as you leaned away from the attack, I would guess, but the tips of the blades still managed to slice through the outer layer of your eye and reach your lens at the middle. The good news is that we were able to save the eye. The bad news, I’m afraid, is that your vision will likely never fully recover on its own.” The doctor gave him a sympathetic look.
“Can I take off the bandage?” Jack asked slowly, processing what the doctor had said.
“Give it a day for the medicine to do its work before doing that,” the doctor advised. “In a sense, you were quite lucky to only suffer mostly superficial damage to your eye. The main concern remaining is that the weapon managed to reach the lens, which could potentially lead to an infection. I have prescribed some pills to help you body ward off any infection, but it still will come down to luck in all honesty.”
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“Lens, like a contacts lens?” he asked for clarification. “Eyeballs have one?”
“Correct,” the doctor nodded. “In front of your pupil is the lens, which acts exactly like a contact in that it focuses light into the eyeball for your nerves to decode into images. People who require visual aid in the form of glasses or contact lenses do so because the size of their eyeball no long matches the lens, causing the focused image to be projected at the wrong spot. To be clear, you’re young enough that there’s a good chance your lens will be able to regenerate on its own, but there is a high chance you may develop cataracts as a result of your ordeal. I’ll have one of the nurses provide you a pamphlet on your options should that happen.”
“Great, cataracts at my age,” Jack sighed.
“It can occur naturally in children as well as any age even without suffering trauma,” the doctor pointed out. She then paused. “Ah, the hour must be getting to me. I didn’t introduce myself to you, did I? My name is Doctor Fawkes, and I’m one the ER doctors on staff here at Maples memorial. I apologize for the late introduction.”
“Ah, like the phoenix?” Jack blinked.
The doctor rolled her eyes. “My name wasn’t anything special until Harry Potter came out, and then all the kids started asking me for feathers. Really, I suppose I should be flattered, and it made giving the little biters shots easier I suppose.” She chuckled before swiping a few times on her tablet. “Now, to answer a couple of your upcoming questions. Your companion is fine, but still in surgery. He suffered a mild heart attack due to stress, injury, and blood loss, but it appears he will survive. No, you are not under arrest, but the police will come in the interview you once I make the call that you’re awake. Yes, you can leave if you want once the police are done asking their questions. I believe a lady friend of yours will be quite happy to know you’re awake now, and will be in here shortly after I leave. Did I miss anything?”
“Did I come in here with an iron pipe?” Jack asked.
Doctor Fawkes raised an eyebrow. “Alright, that’s a new one for me. Hm, let’s see. . .” She poked the tablet a couple of times. “Ah, yes here its under personal effects. It appears the police took it with them to examine as evidence, and that it was quite the struggle to get you to let go of it. I’m sorry, but I’m not sure if you’ll be able to get it back until this case is closed.”
“Well, too bad I guess.” Jack sighed. It was just a pipe he’d picked up, but it had saved his life after all. He wasn’t sure exactly what the police hoped to find on it though. Maybe acid marks?
“Mm, then if there’s nothing else, I have to continue my rounds,” the doctor noted. “I’m glad you are doing well Mr. Smith, and I wish you a good day.” She walked out of the room, Jack hearing her say something out in the hall before a familiar head of blond hair peeked in.
“Hey Emily, long night?” Jack asked with a bright smile.
“Yeah, was worried how I was going to pay the rent if I lost my roommate,” came the sarcastic voice, mixed in with a sniffling of emotional tears. “You ass, what were you thinking?”
“I was thinking I’d like to make it out alive,” Jack said honestly.
That comment brought on the tears as Emily walked swiftly over to his bed and embraced him in a hug, silent streams of water falling down her face as she wordlessly and quietly sobbed. Jack held her close, and only then did his own tears begin to fall as the brunt of what happened to him finally became real. The two stayed together for several long moments of eternity before Emily moved back and gave him an examining look.
“At least you won’t be able to claim you look normal now,” she finally noted with a hiccupping giggle. “I can tell my girlfriends I marked you especially as my own now.”
“What, you didn’t already do that?” Jack smirked back. “Is the burn mark on my ass a joke to you?”
“I’m sorry, but you were the one who ignored my warning of being in the way in the kitchen,” Emily shot back. “Not my fault you dropped a burning meatball and earned a tramp stamp.”
“Sus,” Jack declared. “Still sus. Not like I was walking around without pants or bending over far enough for that to happen.”
“As someone used to leering at you from behind, it happened,” Emily returned his earlier smirk.
The shared a laugh and hugged each other again, this time with more warmth and happiness than before. Jack thought about things and let out a sigh as they pulled apart.
“What?” Emily asked curiously.
“The doctor said I could go blind in my left eye,” Jack admitted morosely. “I’m not sure I could hold down a steady job with one eye. Or give you the life you deserve.”
“Jack Yortuga Smith, now you listen here,” Emily snapped as she stood up and pointed a finger at him. “You are mine, you understand? I chose you, and you chose me, and nothing is going to change that. You saved Hank and fought off a crazy criminal out to rob the restaurant, and if they fire you for the injuries you suffered, I’ll sic my law department friends on them. I’m sure there a several scholarships you could apply for too, and likely more than one charitable organization that would be happy to donate to your college tuition for the good press if nothing else. Your life is not over, it’s just beginning.”
Jack sighed. “How did I end up lucky enough to have you in my life?”
“Good hygiene and taste,” Emily winked at him. “And I chose you after all.”
“Yeah, you definitely did,” Jack agreed.
“Then,” Emily began, suddenly blushing and fidgeting in place. “Um, actually, I did want to talk to you about something.”
“Shoot,” Jack said.
“Maybe not the best expression at the moment,” Emily grimaced briefly. “Anyway, I, um, I wanted to tell you last night over dinner, but then all this happened. I, I got the internship I told you about!”
“Fosters and Fosters?” Jack blinked.
“No, well, yes I did get accepted there too,” Emily cleared her through. “But I mean with my first choice, with the city’s DA office! I’ll be working with the district attorney at city hall starting next week!”
“You deserve it,” Jack smiled happily and clapped his hands. “The day is coming when I’ll be calling you Prosecutor Bughs, ha ha.”
“Actually,” Emily blushed again, before holding out something to Jack. “I was hoping you’d call me, Prosecutor Smith? Before Jack could react, his girlfriend opened the box to reveal a ring, which she offered to him.
“Um, isn’t this suppose to be my job?” Jack asked with a raised eyebrow. “And, wait, hold on, that’s my box for you! You stole my proposal moment and my ring?”
“You’ll never be able to prove it in court,” Emily said with a wink and stuck her tongue out. “I told you before you weren’t very good at hiding things; I’ve known for awhile and was just waiting happily. But,” she frowned and shook her head. “You don’t know how scared I was getting the call from the police last night. They only said you’d been taken to the hospital, and that you were unconscious. I didn’t, I didn’t want to wait anymore, not in case I lost you.”
“So, I… decided to do it myself,” she concluded.
“Well, fine, I guess,” Jack said, a little deflated. “I did have a romantic plan and all that. Hadn’t gotten to asking your friends to be there though; you know what they think of me.”
“Their blood was always a little too blue,” Emily said dismissively. “But they’ll be happy, I promise you. Listen, your goal is to get better, and then you can propose properly, okay? But, um, your answer?”
“Yes, of course yes you silly woman,” Jack rolled his eyes. “Was there really ever a doubt?”
Emily laughed happily and sat down to hug him again, with Jack joining in her laughter a moment later. The new day hadn’t yet dawned, but Jack felt the future suddenly was a bit brighter than it had been. He ignored the small throbbing pain under the bandage, and the strange grey glow that outlined his future wife and everything else in the room.