Sang Sorenson. 18 years old. Doctor. Academy Agent.
Sang comes from an abusive family, but managed to escape from their clutches at 11 years old. The academy welcomed her with open arms, teaching her how to protect herself but also how to protect ot...
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I feel groggy, and when I try to sit up, I can't. I open my eyes, my vision blurry, and everything around me is dark. I go to speak but my voice croaks, and I can't get any words out. I panic trying to move, but my body won't cooperate. I don't have the energy to move. I start to cry, the only thing my body will let me do. The pain is unbearable, and I can't breathe very well.
"Pookie," Sean says soothingly. "I need you to calm down sweetheart, okay? Let's stop the crying." He wipes my eyes, but I can't stop, getting more and more hysterical.
"What's going on?" Owen demands.
"I need her to calm down," Sean says. He takes my hand. "Breathe with me Sang, slow deep breaths. In and out."
I try, but I can't. Owen leans forward and presses his lips to mine. I'm ashamed to admit that this worked. I eagerly respond, and I'm pleased he didn't just pull away. The kiss gets more heated, more urgent, before Sean coughs loudly. I'm blushing when he pulls away, but as the gentleman he is, Owen just pulls out a handkerchief and wipes my tears.
"Well then," Sean teases. "I know how to calm you down next time. Why are you crying, Pookie?"
"Throat," I whisper. "Hurts." He moves the bed so I can sit up, and I cry out.
"Fuck. You're in pain too? We didn't administer the morphine with the sedative, hoping you'd sleep through the night. Fuck," Sean snarls. I glance at Owen, and he nods.
"It's not your fault," Owen says softly. "Go get it now, and I'll get some water." He storms out, and I groan, and Owen looks my way.
"Make sure he's okay," I demand, using sign language.
"He is," Owen replies similarly.
"You don't need to use sign language," I tease. "I can hear just fine. Moving just hurts and talking isn't possible."
"Seems our kiss has me confused," he says. "I'll grab some water." I blush as he leaves, but my mind is so unfocused, I don't know how long they've been gone, before both return. Sean adjusts my meds, and Owen brings a straw to my mouth.
"Small sips Sang," Sean warns. "Really small." I take tiny sips, with my eyes closed. I'm so tired. Owen pulls the cup away when I stop drinking it.
"You ready to go back to sleep Darling?" Owen asks. I shake my head. It's hard to focus, but I know I'm not okay. Something is wrong.
"I don't feel good Sean," I say, leaning into him.
"In what way, sweetheart?" he asks. "Does your stomach hurt? Your throat?"
"Just tired," I moan.
"Can you tell me what day it is?" Sean asks, urgently.
"I don't know," I frown. "What time is it?" I open my eyes, cringing at the blurriness.
