Secret Santa Fic - Trix

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

. . . And Counting

Word Count: 698

“You waking up?”

“C’mon. Open your eyes already.”

“It’s like you’ve been sleeping for days. Wake up already.”

Lucy Serrano hated hospitals. They made her nervous. She didn’t go to them unless she absolutely had to; a member of the wait-and-see mentality respectively. When she got sick, she didn’t really do anything about it. But she didn’t matter.

She had her arms folded on the side of a bed, her head resting against them. Rowan was asleep in his hospital bed. Again. Like he always seemed to be. Surely it’d be alright to catch another second or so of sleep. But when she closed her eyes, nothing else existed.

“Ro, your weird blonde friend who smiles way too much rocked up again today.” She said aloud. She even breathed an exhausted laugh; “I really hate her. But she sat with you for ages. Said you even woke up for her.” As much as she wanted to glare at him for choosing someone else over herself, she didn’t move. “You talked to her. That’s bullshit. How come every time I’m here, you’re not. That’s so-”

“Shut up, Lucy.” Rowan cursed at her, his eyes still unopened. He rarely called her that.

“You’re awake?” She asked, unfurling her arms quickly, looking up and literally punching him in the arm.

He still didn’t bother opening his eyes, but he did let out a significant; “Ouch.”

“Relax, it’s not like I punched you in the leg.” Lucy interjected, but she immediately regretted it.

His right leg was wrapped. Covered by a blanket. He’d broken his leg one night at the club. But that was weeks ago, and he was still in here. It still wasn’t healing properly. He could barely feel his toes.

“What the fuck, Rowan.” She started again, slumping into the chair. Finally, he looked at her. His eyes were sunken, his features exhausted. He was frustrated. “I’ve been here every day since you-”

“I know.” He snapped. Even he regretted it, to an extent.

“Then what the hell is your-”

“You’re the only one who lets me sleep.” Rowan finally said. In the break, he breathed a frustrated sigh. “Callie, Alex. Even Beat. They just talk. I mean, you talk. But you don’t bug me for answers or tell me you’re sorry this happened to me.” For however long he’d been sitting there, he’d had people by his side. But most of them kept him awake when they caught his eyelids fluttering. They squeezed his hand and drew him from slumber. They told him it was going to be okay. That they were so sorry. That he’d be dancing again in no time. “I don’t need people apologising. Like it’s gonna fix what happened.”

“It’s f-”

“It’s not fine. Don’t say its fine, Lucy.”

“I wasn’t going to.”

“Don’t bullshit me about this.” Rowan ordered. It was rare for him to really raise his voice at her, much less speak so harshly.

“I was going to say; it’s fucked.” Lucy finally finished, staring back at him. He was offering a look that expressed everything – his anger, his resentment. Doubt. Guilt. None of them suited him. An arrogant smile and a brazen laugh suited Rowan. “It’s fucked up that this happened.”

In the silence, she felt his eyes scrutinising her. He was searching her face for the same sorrow and compassion that everyone else gave him. That look of pity in Callie’s blue eyes when she told him she could have helped him. Or when Alex wished he had gotten there sooner. Or when his cousin Beatrix just… Cried.

“I just wanted you to know that I felt that way.” Lucy added deftly, giving him a final glance. She didn’t harbour those feelings. She returned his scrutiny with the usual steely expression she wore.

And then she dropped her head back onto her folded arms at the end of his bed.

“Go back to sleep.” She ordered, the words muffled against her skin. “I’ll wait.”

Rowan reached forward as far as he could, the tip of his finger outstretched enough to touch against her arm. He didn’t like contact. Neither did she. But maybe this time, a little was necessary.