What the hell is she on about?
Dee points to the wall, but there’s nothing there. “He’s there!” she yells, and the nurse follows her direction to nothing, and she nods.
“It’s okay, Dee. He’s not there. It’s just a dream, darling,” she says while I run my hand through my hair. I’m relieved she’s not scared of me, but at the same time, I’m devastated that she’s completely overwhelmed by a goddamn dream.
I have no fucking idea what to do!
I feel so helpless.
So out of my depth.
Should I go over there and try to help her, or should I stay out of the way?
Fuck!
My mind is spinning out of control, my head foggy. Exhaustion hits. I’m beyond tired. It doesn’t help that I haven’teaten dinner, and my emotions are all over the place. I feel lightheaded as I watch Dee fall apart, and there’s not a damn thing I can do to help her. I try to steady myself on the door frame, but as I reach for the wall, everything fades to black.
***
“Colt,” someone calls my name, but it barely registers.
Then the darkness pulls me under once more.
***
Slowly, my eyes open, and daylight seeps in. Moving my hand, I feel a slight sting on the back of my hand, so I bring it up, and there is an IV attached to it.
Suddenly, I sit up.
I am in a hospital bed next to Dee’s, still in my jeans but no top, and those stupid sticky pad things are all over my chest and attached to a machine.
Guess I wasn’t coping as well as I thought.
I look over at Dee, sleeping peacefully. I am a complete fucking failure for passing out on her when she needs me the most.
Shannon walks in and half-smiles. “I told you that you weren’t taking care of yourself, Colt.”
“How long was I out?” I ask while I watch Dee.
Thank God they set me up in here and not in my own room. I would have killed them if they had separated me from Dee.
“A solid seven hours. You needed it. Your body couldn’t take any more, so it shut down. It needed time to recover. Are you feeling any better?” Shannon queries as she looks at the machine attached to me. I sit back and exhale.
“Yeah, I think I do,” I answer, and she smiles.
“Good, you should be with all the fluids we’ve given you and the rest you’ve finally allowed your body to have. Colt, do I needto remind you how to look after yourself, or are you going to listen to us now?” she scolds, and I move my legs to the edge of the bed, just sitting there.
“I’ll listen, but I’m sure as hell not leaving her side.”
“Well, I have never seen anyone as devoted as you. She’s one lucky lady. I’ll make sure they keep a bed in here so you can sleep at night, not in a chair. Hopefully, that will make it easier for you,” she says. I nod my head while she walks over to Dee, checking her vitals.
“How was she last night? I remember her freaking out before I passed out,” I ask with concern.
“She’s doing okay. What she’s suffering from is called delirium. It’s quite common for patients coming out of an induced coma. Her nightmares seem like reality, and they can be incredibly frightening for her. She actually believes that a man is following and taking photographs of her. Sometimes this can last for a couple of weeks. She may not even remember her first few days of being awake, so you need to be aware that she’ll more than likely forget anything you say now. What’s happening to her is normal. There’s nothing to be afraid of. Just don’t tell her anything that could exacerbate her condition,” she states.
“Like what?” I question.
“Well, for starters, I wouldn’t mention anything about paparazzi. She’s obviously having delusions about them, so that I wouldn’t mention,” she explains.
