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What Was I Made For? By Billie Eillish. (From the motion picture, Barbie)
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I notice the exact moment Jessica goes limp in my arms, her words faltering and grip loosening. Stiffening slightly, I pull her away and see her eyes are closed, and she's not moving, dried tears on her terribly pale face. Her body feels cold and lifeless against mine.
"Jessica?" I call out, gently shaking her, but she's unresponsive. Placing her back on my chest, my gaze darts around, and I start to panic. "Is there a doctor here!? My wife has fainted!" I call out, lifting her up from the floor and cradling her against me as I run out of the underground bunker, careful not to jar her.
Once I step outside, the frigid air hits me, the sky is still dark and stormy, but there's no rain anymore. I spot the paramedics amidst and sprint towards them, cradling Jessica's lifeless body in my arms. The biting wind stings my face, but I barely register it. All that matters is getting her the help she desperately needs.
They immediately swing into action once they see me coming; their faces are etched with determination and expertise. With swift movements, they take over, gently prying Jessica from my grasp and immediately tending to her.
Gently laying her on a stretcher, the paramedics immediately begin assessing her condition. Their gloved hands work quickly, checking her pulse, monitoring her vitals, and speaking in hushed, urgent tones. Her skin is pale, and the bruising on her body is evident even in the dim ambulance lighting.
"Let's get her warmed up," one of the paramedics says, and they cover her with heated blankets, working to combat the effects of the cold that has seeped into her body. Another paramedic is carefully checking the cut marks on her collarbone, her fingers gentle as she cleans and dresses the wounds. My heart breaks further seeing how frail she looks. Only God knows what Zachary made her go through in just the short time he had her.
Finally, her breathing resumes, but she's still unconscious. "We have to take her to the hospital. I don't think she's out of danger yet," one of the paramedics says. I nod, reaching out to hold her fingers, bringing it closer to my lips and kissing it. The sirens wail as we speed towards the hospital. My eyes are fixed on Jessica's face, willing her to be okay, hoping that her strength will carry her through.
We get to the hospital, and the ambulance doors swing open. The hospital staff arrives with a gurney, ready to transport Jessica to the emergency room. The paramedics carefully lift her onto the stretcher, their movements gentle yet urgent. I follow closely behind, my footsteps echoing through the crowded corridor, unable to let her out of my sight. Once she's placed on the hospital bed, more doctors and nurses attend to her, effectively pushing me out. With bated breath, I watch as they tend to her.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I bring it out, realizing it's Emma calling. I walk a safe distance from Jessica's bed, picking it up.
"Have you found her yet?" she immediately asks, her voice still laden with worry and fear.
"Yes, I have."
"Is she alright?" she asks, immediately sounding relieved.
"I'm not sure. I'm in the hospital, and Jessica is being tended to right now."
"What!?" she gasps, her shock evident. "Can I come see her, please?"
"Yes, if you want to. Have the driver bring you to the hospital. I will text you the address," I tell her.
"Yes, thank you," she mutters and ends the call. I place the phone back in my pocket and stare at Jessica once more. All I have to do now is wait.
.
.
.
Emma arrives much later, with a panic-stricken look on her face. Spotting me in the hospital waiting room, she immediately rushes to me, frantically glancing around. "Where is she?! Where's my sister?" Emma asks once she gets to me. I point to her new ward, and Emma rushes to see her through the window, covering her mouth as she gasps.
"Although she's stabilized, she's yet to wake up," I inform, and she glances at me.
"What happened to her?" she cries out, her voice already shaking.
"She had an accident," I tell her, not revealing the whole story. I don't think Jessica would appreciate that.
"What!? How did she!?... Why would she get into one!?"
Just then, one of the nurses attending to her steps out of the room. "She's awake now and seems fine. Would anyone like to see her?"
"Can I see her, please?" Emma blurts, already moving forward. Although I want to ask why Jessica did what she did, I decide to let Emma go first. "Of course, I'll wait for you."
"Thanks..." she mutters quickly, hurrying into the ward. I watch their interaction, seeing as Emma breaks into a sob, hugging Jessica. A sad smile forms on my lips as their voices filter through my ears, even though I can't hear what they're saying. I'm just glad she's safe and sound.
A while later, I walk in and find Emma still talking to Jessica. Our eyes meet, and we fall silent, not saying anything. Quite suddenly, Emma breaks the silence. "I'll leave you two alone now," she says, getting up from her seat and leaving the room.
With Emma gone, it's just Jessica and me now. The room feels calm yet charged with emotions. The soft hospital light casts a warm glow on Jessica's pale face. Tubes and wires surround her, connecting her to the machines. The beeping sounds from those machines remind me that life can be fragile. I take a deep breath, pressing my lips together as I continue to stare at her.
"How do you feel?" I ask, taking a step towards her. She drops her gaze, fiddling with her fingers. "Honestly," she whispers, her voice tiny. "I don't know."
A tense moment later, she continues speaking. "I know what I did was stupid. But I didn't know what else to do."
"You could have told me he was threatening you," I cut her short, watching as she reddens. "You should have told me he was contacting you. I would have done something. It would not have gotten to this point." I let out a sigh afterwards, running a hand through my hair as I pace around. "But I can't blame you, can I? You're used to doing things alone. And maybe... This is normal to you. Putting yourself into dangerous situations without a care in the world."
She looks away, but I can still see the tears streaming down her cheeks. I continue anyway. "I was terrified, Jessica. Terrified. Seeing that bashed car in the middle of the highway under the pouring rain without you in it, I felt like I would die. What was I going to do? What was I going to tell your sisters? And then... And then I finally find you, but you're tied up and bloodied and bruised as well. I didn't know what to think. Why would you do that to yourself? Just why?"
"Because I was scared..." She finally mutters, her voice trembling. "Because I was scared of losing you. Scared of losing Emma. Scared of losing everything I cared about."
"I am scared too. If I had been a second later, hell, if I didn't find you at all, that bastard would have had his way with you and I would have lost you. Would that be better? Would it?"
"I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking. I'm sorry," she starts whispering, drawing her legs together as she cries. I walk towards her, cradling her face in my hands. Tears brimming in my eyes, I stare at her. "Don't do that again. Don't. All my life, all I've ever wanted was for someone that I loved to love me in return and never leave. I just wanted to love someone that won't leave."
She starts crying now. Full-blown, heart-wrenching sobs. "Do you know what would have happened to what you left behind if you died? Did you stop to think about it?" I ask as she hiccups. "I'm begging you, don't do that to me anymore."
"I won't..." She sobs, shaking her head. "I won't, Devon. I love you," she cries, hugging me as she sobs. "Thank you for coming," she whispers as she cries into my chest.
"You are my responsibility, my love. Of course I'll always come for you." Taking a deep breath, I add, "You're my wife, always remember that. Not Marie Quinn, not Jessica Franklin, but Jessica Reeves, my wife," I say, unable to help the possessiveness that seeped into my voice. "A part of me, and I, a part of you," I confess, kissing her hair.
She doesn't stop crying, her grip on me tightening. Later on, once her sobs turn to sniffles, she gazes up at me, her eyes shining with tears and lips quivering. I see my reflection in them and smile, wiping away her tears with my thumb.
"I would never hurt you," I tell her, caressing her face.
"I know," she mutters and hugs me again. I breathe her in, feeling some of my heartache calm down.
"I love you," she whispers.
"I love you too," I whisper back, pressing another kiss to her hair. We sit there motionless for a while until I realize that she's not moving anymore. At first, I think it's because she's passed out, until I discover she's just asleep, her chest steadily rising and falling. I gently brush a strand of hair away from her forehead, revealing her closed eyes. Her skin feels cool to the touch, and her fingers rest still on the sheets. I lay her back down, kissing her forehead lingeringly.
Unbidden, my eye catches the cut marks on her neck and collarbone, and rage flares in me once more. I'm going to make Zachary pay for all he did to her. But for now, I'll just enjoy this sacred moment with my wife.
My wife. A smile forms on my lips at the word. I'll never stop calling her that.
****
Writes a letter to heaven.
Dear God,
Where's my Devon?
Okay, I definitely did not cry while writing this chapter. (I cried, I cried a lot.)
Thoughts on this chapter? Let me know! I love to read your comments.
See you in the next one!