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“Louise? Are you awake?”
It’s Han. Seems the doctor got tired while looking after me. Or maybe he just missed cuddling me.
My “yes” is another croak, but it should convey the message.
He shifts again, making the mattress wobble, changing my position slightly. This time, I groan in pain as my unused muscles are moved.
“Can you open your eyes?”
He’s talking from above me now and his knees are pressing against my ribs. Is he kneeling over me? Not really how doctors should assess their patients, I think, noticing that I’ve made a first joke since... well, the bomb.
I can open my eyes, but I don’t want to. I don’t want to see the blackness again.
Instead, I clear my throat, hoping that he’ll understand that I really, really want some water.
Luckily, he’s not just my man, but also a perceptive doctor, and a moment later, a straw is put to my lips and I suck on it greedily.
When my throat is feeling better and I am able to speak, I ask what I’ve been wanting to know for a long time: “What happened?”
In fact, I have a whole host of questions, like did I cut the right cable, is the station safe, are we going to starve soon, how badly am I injured? But I don’t have the energy to ask all that.
“Do you remember the bomb?”
I nod, a tiny movement but I hope he sees it.
“You cut a cable – of course you did, we should have known that you’d do that. I don’t know how you managed to be so lucky, but you cut the right one. You successfully disconnected the timer and the bomb, but something went wrong. We don’t quite know what, but part of the bomb exploded even though it was no longer attached to the timer. It was only a tiny bit, but enough to hit you. What’s strange though... you must have seen it coming. We found you on the floor, clutching the bomb. You pulled it away from the pipes even though it wounded you severely. You saved us, you saved the station.”
He clears his throat. “But please don’t ever do that again.”
Now that he’s said it, I dimly begin to remember. I cut the wire, then the cylinder was beginning to make noise. I was worried and ripped it away from the cables and pipes it was threatening.
I take another sip of water from the straw he’s still holding to my lips.
“How bad?”
He doesn’t answer immediately, which tells me a lot more than words would.
“You got severe burns in the blast. Mainly on your chest and face. And you held the bomb when it exploded... I’m so sorry, I couldn’t save your arm.”
My arm. What? But it hurts. Both of my arms hurt.
I focus on the pain. The left one feels the same as the rest of my body, that tearing, searing pain on the outside. The right though, it’s deeper. A different kind of pain.
“There were some complications,” Han continues, his voice guarded. “But I think we’re through the worst of it now. You’ll be okay. The burns are healing well, and in a few days, we might be able to help you start moving again so your skin gets stretched and the scars will be softer and less painful later on.”
He pauses for a moment, letting it all sink in. “We’re all here for you, every step of the way. You saved us, now it’s our turn to take care of you. Toby has been waiting to tell you that the two of you match now – it’s his new favourite joke.”
“Yes, I’m trying to get him to amputate my arm so that we can rock the same look.” Toby has entered the room without me noticing, and his warm lips press on my forehead a moment later. “Welcome back, beautiful.”
“Don’t,” I mutter, not sure if he’s serious. Tiredness is clouding my thoughts again.
“It’s good to have you back,” he whispers, a slight choke to his voice. “We’ve missed you.”
I want to reply, but all I can do is yawn.
“Sleep,” Han says and gently takes my left hand. “We’ll be here when you wake up.”
***
