When the Reality crashes in

                                    

                                          
My head is feeling really fuzzy and my muscles feel stiff, as if I've not moved them for a long time. The strong smell of cleaning agents and disinfectants fills my nostrils. I try to open my eyes but they feel too heavy. Where am I? Furrowing my brows, I try to move a bit, wiggling my fingers and lifting my head. I can't. My head is...heavy. Someone is holding my hand. I wrench my eyes open, trying to get out of the fog of confusion that seems to have settled around me. The ceiling is bright white. 
It takes just a moment for me to realise. I'm in the hospital. I'm back in the reality. 
I sit up in an instant, ignoring the dizzy wave that makes me want to lay down again. "Wha-?!" comes the befuddled voice from beside me. Vivian. "Oh God! Thank God!" Vivian exclaims as his grip on my hand tightens. He calls for a nurse even before I've said anything. My mouth feels as dry as the Sahara. I can't really speak right now, I need water. I'm feeling extremely disoriented. "You're awake! You're awake!" Vivian's voice is full of relief. He engulfs me in a tight protective hug and I clutch at him desperately. He's my rock, the only thing that hadn't changed there, and hasn't changed here. "I was so scared. I thought... oh, Fiona, don't you ever do that to me again!" his voice is thick with emotion. Oh Vivian! I've missed him. He kisses my head and I close my eyes breathing in his comforting scent, earthy and flowery. It relaxes me immediately. I'm home. "Oh dear, why in the name of Jesus are you sitting up!?" the nurse, an old granny-like woman with kind eyes and curly greying hair, exclaims as she comes in. Vivian lets me go and she lays me down once more, checking on all the weird appliances attached to me. I hate hospitals. "Can I have some water?" I croak out in my gravelly unused voice. I wonder how long I've been out. Viv immediately hands me a glass of cool water which I down gratefully. "Don't you get up little girl, I'll get Dr Truman." the nurse warns me fondly and then leaves the room. John comes in. His face relaxes. "I hate you." he says in a shaky voice and then comes to stand next to Vivian. I smile. "If you ever do something like that again, I'm going to kill you." he states, leaning down to press a kiss on my head. "Ugh! Don't kiss me anymore. I'll drown in the sappiness." I make a face, making the both of them let out watery chuckles. The door to my cabin opens and George walks in. "You're my doctor?" I ask him. No wonder Vivian had called him back in Paris. "Gave us a right fright there, you did." he says smiling. "Could you guys just give me a minute here?" he asks my brothers. With a last squeeze to my hand, Vivian leaves with John. 
George asks me some really boring and mundane questions about my head and a couple of other things. "How long was I out?" I ask him. "Three days." he replies, grimacing. Whoa! 
 "You know, Fiona, I know I'm handsome. We would meet at the pub this Friday, after all. You didn't have to do all of this, just to see me sooner. Could've just given me a call." he drawls, once he's done writing in the reports. His eyes are mischievous. "You know, I can't resist you, darling." I say laughing. He laughs too. "Vivian and John have been out of their minds with worry." he tells me seriously. "I'm fine now." I say. "I can see that." he gestures at my reports. "We'll have to keep you under observation for two more days, though. You were very lucky, the wound could've gone deeper, caused a lot of damage." he adds. "This wouldn't have happened. I was caught off-guard." I tell him. "Yeah, I heard. From...um, Anthony."
Tony? He was here? 
"He was the one threatening to shoot us if anything happened to you." I blush at the information. He cares. As a friend, he cares for me as a friend, I remind myself. The dream is over, for fuck's sake! I don't know if it's my imagination, but George's face looks a bit scowl-y. "He was the one to find me first. When I was attacked, I mean. He panicked, I guess." I tell George. He scoffs. "He's still panicking then." he says. "Didn't leave your bedside, once. Vivian and John managed to send him home for a shower yesterday evening. He came back at night, though. Slept on the chairs outside. He's in the cafeteria now." he explains when I peer at him in confusion. 
Friend. I'm his friend. He is scared for his close friend. There are no romantic feelings here. None at all. Do not hope, Fiona, do not. 
There is awkward silence for a moment. "Can I sit up?" I ask George. He raises the bed and adjusts me properly, putting the pillows in the right places.
 "Fiona!" Tony bursts in through the door. He looks unkempt, his hair is disheveled, and he seems to have grown a bit of stubble. I don't think I've ever seen him not clean shaved. "Thank fuck!" he says, exhaling in relief as he crosses the distance to my bed in three long strides. "Why the fuck didn't you call for me? What were you thinking?" he asks. "Jeez! Relax. He caught me out of the blue." I try to placate him. Worried is not a good look on him. He sags down into the chair beside my bed and for a moment I'm transported back to the streets of Paris, like Tony is going to cup my cheeks the next moment and kiss me tenderly. I blink as I shake off my fantasy. 
Tony does cup my cheek with one warm hand and brushes his thumb against my cheekbone. "There was so much of blood...you wouldn't open your eyes, wouldn't talk, I... I don't think I'd ever felt that helpless before." Tony's voice shakes. Is he-? "Are you-? Tony, no! Don't cry!" something clenches in my heart. I take his hand in one of mine and reach for his face with the other, wiping away the two small drops of tears that have escaped. He shakes his head as if to shake off the previous mood and holds my hands in his. "You're okay now." I nod at his statement. "You are such a stellar cop, Tony, excellent skill in observing the obvious." I joke, trying to lighten the mood. I don't want him upset and neither do I want any hopes about us. Better to avoid these sorts of circumstances. He chuckles along with me.
 The sound of another chuckle reminds of George's presence in the room. Tony turns towards George too and his expression becomes considerably colder. "Truman." he greets coolly. "White." George returns the same unfriendly tone. Why does this feel like pissing contest? 
"George, a word." John calls from the door. George smiles at me, doesn't acknowledge Tony at all and leaves the room. Vivian comes in, sits at the foot of my bed and squeezes my ankle. "Before you ask, I'm totally fine." I inform him, just as he's about to open his mouth to speak. "I can see that." he says a bit slyly, looking pointedly at my hands held in Tony's. We let go simultaneously. 
Letting Tony go will be a lot harder than I imagined. 
A/N: Okay, so Fiona's back. Will she be able to let Anthony go? We'll find out soon enough. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Please comment and don't forget to vote! Bye!