by M. K. Easley
Tristan smiled, not even caring that her face hurt.
“Anything else, Miss Tristan?”
Tristan shook her head, and Leon left, saying goodbye to Umbris and Sol as well.
“Leon mentioning the burn team reminds me. Did one of you do something to my side last night?” Tristan asked, looking between her parents.
Sol nodded.
“When Rachel said yesterday that your burn was not progressing, I realized it was because it’s not a typical burn, so it won’t respond to typical methods of medical care. I should have realized that sooner, but I didn’t think about it. I didn’t heal it entirely, but I healed it enough so the burn team should be satisfied, and I can take care of the rest once you’re home.”
“It was such a nice feeling.” Tristan rested her head back against her pillow. “I can’t remember the last time I felt so painless.”
“We'll work on it more at home,” Sol assured Tristan again. “Oh, speaking of home, Ivan and Ruby send their love, and so does Joe.”
“Joe?” Tristan was blanking.
“Riser, your boss. I contacted him yesterday to fill him in, and he said to tell you to come back when you're ready, and that if you try to come back before that, he's going to send you home and probably won't pay you for the day.”
Tristan laughed, settling further into the bed and briefly closing her eyes.
“That sounds like Joe.”
She must have drifted off, because the next time Tristan awoke, her breakfast tray was sitting on the rolling table beside her bed, and Sol and Umbris were gone. Tristan inched the table towards her, wincing at the unpleasant tingling the movement caused in her hands, and lifted the lid, revealing a surprisingly appetizing looking stack of pancakes, two pieces of crisp bacon, a small bottle of water, and a small carton of orange juice.
Tristan ate the cold but tasty meal carefully, deciding to roll up the pancakes and eat them that way instead of attempting to cut them into pieces, and was almost finished when someone again knocked on her door.
“Come in.”
Gabriella Benson appeared from behind the curtain that was half-drawn beside Tristan’s bed, and Tristan’s eyes widened.
“Mrs. Benson, hi.”
“Hi, honey. I was just up to see Beckett so I thought I’d come see you while they change his bandage. I don’t have the stomach for that kind of thing.”
Gabriella Benson was a petite, almost meek woman with light brown hair and eyes the same turquoise as Beckett’s. She was quiet, unassuming, and Tristan had a hard time reconciling that impression with the Gabriella who apparently gave it to Raymond Benson as good as she got it. Not that it was Tristan’s business.
“How is he?”
“Doing really well. He turned a corner early this morning and so they’re talking about getting him out of the ICU today. They had originally said he could be in there for up to a week, so it’s kind of a miracle.”
Tristan smiled.
“I heard he might be moved today. That’s great.”
“He asked about you before his eyes even opened,” Gabriella said, smiling at Tristan as she surveyed her face. “That boy is a fool for you.”
Tristan blushed.
“Well… The feeling is mutual.”
“I know it is.” Gabriella studied Tristan for a few beats, and then smiled again. “I was gonna say something about you two being so young for being so serious, but I was your age once. How are you feeling?”
Tristan didn’t let the comment bother her. She knew how the intensity of hers and Beckett’s relationship must look to commoners, but there wasn’t anything she could do about that and she wasn’t interested in trying, anyway. They’d see for themselves eventually.
“I feel OK. Mostly tired and very sore. My whole body hurts, and while my burns hurt worse than my leg right now, I’m just thankful I didn’t come out of the accident with worse.”
Gabriella nodded, wide-eyed.
“Me too, honey. You and Beckett sure were lucky, all things considered.”
You have no idea, Tristan thought, but she just smiled and nodded.
“I just can’t believe Beckett lost so much blood so fast. To go into organ failure the--”
“Organ failure?” Tristan interrupted, alarmed.
Gabriella nodded, looking at her strangely.
“Yes, that’s why he’s up there in the ICU. He lost so much blood from his shoulder that his body started shutting down. He went into shock. There’s a name for it, for what happened to him, but I can’t remember it right now. The doctors said he got here just in time... I don’t know what I would have done if that good Samaritan hadn’t come along and pulled you two to safety…”
Tristan’s heart was beating painfully in her chest. She knew he was doing better now, was on the mend and being prepared to move to her floor, but the knowledge that Beckett’s organs had begun to fail, that he’d been that close to death…
“I didn’t mean to upset you,” Gabriella said, wringing her hands as she looked worriedly at Tristan. “I thought you knew already. I’m sorry, Tristan.”
“Don’t be, it’s OK.” Tristan tried hard to get the threatening tears under control. “I just miss him.”
That had done it. She’d broken her own floodgates, and now Tristan was sobbing again as Gabriella looked on in distress. She hugged Tristan delicately, not wanting to hurt her, and shushed her while she cried.
“He’s OK, honey. The doctors don’t think he’s going to have any lasting damage. They acted fast and got him what he needed, he’s OK.”
“Tristan?” Sol’s voice interrupted, and Tristan looked up tearfully into Sol and Umbris’s apprehensive faces.
“It’s my fault,” Gabriella said, her voice full of regret. “I thought Tristan knew Beckett had gone into organ failure, I didn’t think anything of saying it because he’s doing so well now--”
“It’s OK,” Tristan interrupted, waving her hand. She made a mental note to stop doing that, as it reminded her too much of Orion. “I’m OK. It just caught me off guard and I’m tired and stressed and hurting and I wish Beckett was here.”
“You’re in luck!”
A chipper voice blasted into the room along with Rachel, who today wore vibrant, royal blue scrubs.
“We were gonna wait to tell you until later, but I think you could use the news now.” Rachel came to stand beside Tristan’s bed, her smile as white as her shoes. “We’re gonna move you into a double room this afternoon, and you’re gonna have a very special roommate.”
This made Tristan cry harder, which made everyone laugh. Things had been so awful, so beyond awful and dire, and the reminder that things were OK now and good things could still happen was just a little bit more than Tristan could process normally.
“I’m going to get back upstairs.” Gabriella smiled at Tristan and her parents. “Tristan, I’m glad you’re OK and on the mend. I look forward to seeing you once you’re out of this place.”
Tristan said goodbye to Gabriella, and Sol smoothed back Tristan’s hair, handing her a tissue so she could wipe her face.
“Is there anything you can do about my leg once I’m out of here?” Tristan quietly asked Sol, as the skin beneath her cast itched terribly.
“I could, but it would look suspicious,” Sol frowned as she glanced toward the open door to Tristan’s room. “You won’t leave here with a fractured fibula and suddenly be up walking around normally within a few days.”
“A fractured fibula?” Tristan asked, surprised. “That can’t be right. I’m pretty sure I felt Orion break every bone in my leg.”
“We did what we could,” Sol told Tristan, raising her eyebrows to impart what she didn’t want to explicitly say.
“Oh,” Tristan said, finally catching on. “Oh, OK. I’m sorry, I didn’t realize.”
“Don’t be sorry. There’s still a lot we have to talk about, but we will have time to do that once you’re home.”
Tristan nodded, in agreemen
t with Sol. When she thought about it, Tristan was surprised that they’d already talked so much about what had really happened -- anyone could have heard anything at any time.
“The conversation last night was protected,” Umbris told Tristan, hearing her thoughts. “It was something we needed to discuss immediately, so we took precautions.”
***
The rest of the morning dissolved into the afternoon, and Olivia and Evander showed up as Tristan was eating lunch, having stayed home from school that day. They, along with Sol and Umbris, were asked to step out shortly after their arrival as three doctors -- well, a doctor and two residents -- from the burn unit showed up to check Tristan’s wounds.
“That’s the progress we like to see,” Doctor Blanche Brown said, once one of the residents, her name Liza, unwrapped Tristan’s side. “That’s what we were looking for. Just took your skin a little bit to catch up.”
Tristan looked down, her stomach immediately turning at the raw, wet pink skin that covered an area of her side about nine inches wide and maybe five or six inches long, based on feel. She looked away, nausea from the sight and the pain of just the air hitting her wound nearly overwhelming her.
“I know it looks bad, but trust me when I tell you it looked a lot worse just two days ago. You have a deep second degree, almost third degree burn, and I regret to have to tell you that they are by far the most painful. This actually looks excellent compared to Saturday night, though. I don’t even think we’ll have to graft you.” Dr. Brown sounded amazed. “OK, let’s wrap this back up and look at your hands and arms.”
Dr. Brown carefully applied ointment to and re-bandaged Tristan’s side, apologizing the whole time as Tristan gritted her teeth in an effort to not scream. A few times a cry escaped her lips, and the doctor assured her she was almost done. They gave Tristan a minute or so to catch her breath, and then Liza and the other resident, Clint, unwrapped her hands and arms. Dr. Brown smiled once again, nodding.
“Excellent. Excellent progress, Tristan. You might have some light scarring on your palms, which seem to have taken the brunt of whatever happened to cause these, but your forearms should heal nicely and so should your cheek.” Dr. Brown addressed Liza and Clint. “I think we can just wrap up her hands, leave the arms out.”
“What kind of scarring am I looking at on my side?” Tristan didn’t want to ask, but she had to know.
“That depends. It’s hard to say with a burn like this. When all is said and done, and unfortunately that could mean a year or two from now, you could just have a slight disturbance in your skin that’s the same color as the rest of you, or you could end up with discoloration and relatively noticeable scarring. It depends on what your body does as it heals and produces new tissue.”
Tristan nodded, distracted by the continuing pain in her side. Tears trickled out of her eyes, and Dr. Brown looked at her sympathetically.
“I'll have Rachel get you something for the pain, OK? Hang in there, Tristan.”
The doctor and residents left the room, and Tristan pressed her head back against her pillow, squeezing her eyes shut. She'd experienced more pain than this on Saturday night, but that didn't seem to matter now. Beneath the bandage it felt like someone was relentlessly rubbing ground glass against her tenderized skin.
“Trinity?” Olivia’s voice was worried, and Tristan felt her come closer. “I'm going to help you, OK?”
Olivia's hand rested gently on Tristan's arm, and within seconds Tristan's pain had started to subside. Rachel flitted into the room then, and Olivia stepped away, to Tristan's chagrin.
“Having some bad pain?” Rachel asked Tristan, who nodded, wiping away her tears.
“OK. I'm going to give you some medicine that's going to help. Do me a favor and when you feel the pain starting to come back, you let me know, OK? We want to stay ahead of it instead of trying to tackle it once it's out of your control.”
Tristan nodded again.
“The good news is that the burn team was really impressed by your wounds, and they've cleared you to go home tomorrow.” Rachel beamed as that finally got a real smile out of Tristan. “Now, in a little while here a couple of team members from the physical therapy unit are going to come in and see if we can somehow get you up and walking; it's pretty important for your healing even though it sounds counterproductive. You rest now, and they'll be here for you soon.”
Rachel left the room, and Tristan looked at her family. Before she could speak, Olivia did.
“Oh! I have something to show you.”
Tristan waited while Olivia tapped her phone screen. She turned the phone around as she walked towards Tristan, holding up a photo she’d taken, a wide smile on her face.
“Now that word is out about you deciding on WLU, Joe added a new drink to the menu at Rise and Grind.”
Tristan took the phone from Olivia and zoomed in on the specialty drinks. There, at the top, was The Wallace. Limited time! A yellow sign beside the description of the new addition proclaimed.
“Our soon-to-be famous Beantown blend, featuring a vanilla bean base and swirls of dark chocolate and caramel, crafted in the honor of Rise and Grind’s newest future Ward Livingston U graduate and employee of the month. Congratulations, Tristan!” Tristan read the description aloud, touched beyond words. She was oddly choked up and her face hurt from smiling, but she couldn't stop. “Oh, Joe.”
“It's good too, I tried it.” Olivia smiled, taking her phone back.
“Word got out quickly about WLU, by the way. Isn't it Monday? And you guys aren't even at school. How does everyone know already?”
“Dean LeFebvre and I got to talking when I called Jamestown to let them know what was going on, and you know how news travels in Lavelle,” Sol said, smiling sheepishly. “I didn't think you'd mind.”
“I don't.” Tristan smiled back at Sol, her head still spinning in an attempt to process everything. She gestured to her family. “You guys should go grab lunch or something. I'll be fine here, I'm just going to take a nap.”
Reluctantly they agreed, and Tristan watched the four of them go, her heart swelling. They'd all been changed by what had happened on Saturday night, but as a family it had only brought them closer. The knowledge, once again, confirmed for Tristan how very fortunate she was to have been born to Umbris and Sol. Her smile fading, Tristan thought again of the Telarie de Maragons, and in her mind she saw a brief flash of Terminus and Noxis, Monse and Mora, their faces shattered with grief. Tristan quickly pulled back; yes, she was lucky, but there were at least eleven families who may never feel that way again, and for that Tristan was partially responsible.
Tristan fell asleep before the tears had dried on her cheeks.
Chapter 41
“Trinity.”
Someone was saying her name, but Tristan didn't recognize the voice.
“Come on Trinity, we have to get you out of here.”
Out of where? Who in the hospital was calling her Trinity if she didn't recognize the voice as one belonging to someone in her family?
“Trinity, open your eyes.”
Tristan did, treetops and the night sky coming into view. What the hell?
Tristan blinked, looking to her right, where Axis Daddona was looking down at her with an expression of urgent concern.
“I have to get you back to Lavelle, and I need you to pay attention to what I'm about to tell you. I can't imagine the kind of pain you're in right now, but I need you to try and focus.”
Pain? Tristan wasn't in any pain at all. Things started to go black, but then her eyes popped back open. She became aware of a few things, then. First, her body was on the ground at a funny angle. She wouldn't look, but she could sense that her left leg was bent unnaturally outward while her body curved in the opposite direction. She was also having trouble opening her eyes all the way -- her face and lips were tight like she hadn't had water in days, and she had that same tight feeling, in varying pressures, in her arms, hands, and along her right side. Her side
was the worst -- it was so tight that she was afraid she'd rip if she moved. The rest of her body felt like it was under a weird kind of pressure, too, and it occurred to Tristan that maybe the universe took it as a challenge every time she thought that things couldn't get any more bizarre.
“Trinity,” Axis said firmly. “Look at me.”
Tristan looked into Axis’s strange indigo eyes, and he nodded, lifting her. Tristan felt her mouth open in a scream, heard and felt the scream reverberate through the air and through her body, but that was all the sensation she experienced -- sounds and vibrations.
Axis was talking, and Tristan looked at him again.
“I'm taking you back to Lavelle. When we get there, I'll plant in your head a memory of a car accident. No matter what, this must be the memory you draw from when the ambulance arrives and they take you to the hospital. Do you understand?”
Tristan's head rolled back and forth, which was apparently good enough for Axis. With a nod, he bowed his head, and with a dull pop they were suddenly in Lavelle, at the scene of a horrific car accident. Beckett was lying on the ground some distance away from two very mangled cars, and Tristan lifted her arm only to feel it drop immediately. She was making terrible noises she'd never made before every time she moved, but she couldn't seem to stop no matter how hard she tried. Axis set her down too far from Beckett, too close to the wreckage, but Tristan knew this was how it had to be. She stared at Beckett, who was completely still in the road and a shade of gray that could mean nothing good. He was almost unrecognizable between the blood and the swelling, but Tristan didn't care. Her arm went out and she gripped the road with her fingers, feeling her arm vibrate with effort as she tried to pull herself towards him. She was screaming again now, but she had one goal in mind and it would be the last thing she ever achieved, if necessary.
To her right, Beckett's car exploded, a wall of pressure sweeping across the road and over Tristan. A large piece of metal, glowing red, clattered to a stop beside her. Tristan persisted in inching toward Beckett.
Muttering expletives to himself, Axis lifted Tristan again, moving her closer to Beckett, and then kicked the debris towards her so it would at least look believable that it'd hit her. Tristan stretched out as far as she could and took Beckett's lifeless hand in hers, closing her eyes and trying to summon energy to transfer into him. It never came.