Mimi's Demons

Chapter 47: See No Evil

Mimi woke up from a dreamless sleep sore, hungry, and needing to pee.

She drifted in and out for a bit, but her angry stomach and bursting bladder demanded she get up. So, with a whine past the clogged mass of her mouth, she sat up.

Her hand hit another body.

She jumped, only for her racing heart to calm as she realized it was just Duke beside her, dressed in the sweats and black t-shirt he preferred when they had their movie nights.

She took a minute to observe him, remembering the last time she had seen his eyes closed he'd been bleeding out. He looked a lot better than then, obviously, with fresh growth on his face that had color to it as well. Less corpse-like. He also didn't have that black outline she'd gotten used to seeing him with. He looked...normal. Like some other guy. And without the remains of his usual cologne he smelled like well-used, beloved blankets that one would wrap around themselves during a storm.

The next thing her attention zoomed in on was the IV taped to her arm.

She stared. Poked. And in a thrill of curiosity started picking at the tape.

A big warm hand with perfectly manicured nails landed on her wrist. She jumped and squealed.

"Don't go doing that on your own."

She pouted at the bleary black eyes peeking out at her. The black outline had returned.

Unable to talk around her bandaged tongue, she settle for grunts and tugging on the line. She couldn't go pee like this. At this rate she'd die of humiliation when her bladder exploded.

Her stomach gave a loud gurgley growl.

Her ears got hot and one of the corners of Duke's mouth rose.

"We'll get you taken care of, kitten, so just hold on. Let me get the dressings."

'Dressings' confused her. Like, a dress? Or something for a turkey?

But when he crawled across the bed to the other side, he pulled up a plastic box which had an array of first-aid supplies, including medical tape and cotton balls.

Oh. Those kinds. She should have known that. Ugh, she was going to make a horrible doctor.

His fingers had a practiced ease to them as he gently pulled out her IV and quickly tapped on a cotton ball over the hole left behind. She wanted to ask if he had a lot of IVs in his life because he'd gotten in epic gun fights or kung fu show downs, but her tongue couldn't move let alone leave any space in her mouth for noise.

"There you go. Freedom."

She scrabbled for the bathroom. It wasn't until she was in there, getting her business done, that she really took thought to the bandage on her other arm, lower towards her wrist. And she remembered.

The memory of being blindfolded, carried away, and biting her arm in desperation. Then hitting her jaw on the back of her captor and biting her tongue hard.

The demons, crowding around her face, eating her.

She suddenly felt sick.

She didn't have anything in her stomach to throw up, though, so after wavering on the toilet, watching the patterns in the wallpaper start to wiggle, she slid off, pulled up her pajama pants, flushed, then went to wash her hands.

The cold shock of water drew her in.

A knock on the door brought her out of her thoughts.

"Mimi, I have a doctor here to look at your tongue."