Beverly
Hands.
Hands are everywhere, touching everywhere.
"Shhh, you're okay," The man says. "You're so beautiful." He says to himself, hands traveling farther down.
Down
down
down.
"Stop shaking, it's hard for me to touch you when you shake like that," He latches his mouth onto my neck and I start crying.
I need to get out of here.
"Beverly, wake up," He says, his voice sounding different. "Bev, you gotta wake up, okay?"
His hand travels farther down, to the inside of my thighs.
"No, no no no no please-"
"Shut up, okay? Just let me do this,"
I shoot up, waking up in a sweat. I let it sink in for a second, but when I look at Finn's warm, brown concerned eyes, the tears overflow.
Finn reaches for me immediately, I stop him with a reached out hand, and a shake of my head. "I'm sorry," I sob, being heartbroken that I can't stand being touched by him.
"Don't be sorry," He says immediately. He leans back in his chair softly, while I keep crying.
I cry because I miss when Finn would hug me or kiss me, but now I can't stand when he does it. It makes me feel gross and sticky.
That's the only way I can describe it.
It's not Finn himself that makes me feel this way, it's the physical part of it.
I'm bawling, and Finn can't do anything but watch.
Finn looks down, and I see a tear fall down from his face. His face looks so sad and heartbroken, and it just makes me cry harder.
If you just let him hold your hand, he wouldn't be sad.
So I offer him my hand, physically fighting myself to not hide it before he takes it.
He looks at it, seeing how much it's shaking, and his lip quivers, more tears falling. "Beverly, I'll only take your hand if you want me to. If not, put it down," He says, his voice straining.
I pause, trying to figure out what to do.
If I put it down, then he'll know that I don't want to, I'm just doing it to make him feel better. But if I don't, then I'll be so uncomfortable instead of feeling comfort. And he'll know anyway.
So I reluctantly put my hand back down.
He inhales, trying not to let his disappointment show on his face.
And the worst part is, is that I don't really feel...bad.
"You should go back to sleep," He whispers. I instantly shake my head, eyes widening in fear. "Okay, okay you don't have to," He comforts.
"I don't want to see him anymore," I whisper. "I don't know what I'll do if I see him anymore,"
He looks down, biting the inside of his cheek.
We sit in silence for a few minutes, but I hear Finn inching closer, resting his chin on his arm that's propped up on the railing attached to my hospital bed. "You wanna go home?" He whispers.
I nod, just wanting to shut myself out from the world. "What time is it?" I ask.
His eyes soften, and he smiles, one that's laced with sadness. "It's six in the morning,"
I nod. "I need to talk to Ezra,"
His face contorts into confusion. "Why?"
"Because I got blood all over his nice smelling shirt," I say, tears filling my eyes.
That was his favorite shirt and I ruined it.
Finn smiles softly. "Okay, we go home after they check your leg, so you can talk to him,"
I nod.
I want to hug him and kiss his sweet smile, but the mere thought of it makes the pit in my stomach grow larger and deeper, and so I push the thought out of my head.
I wonder when I'll actually do it.
***
Finnigan
I wheel Bev out of the hospital, Jay waiting in the car for us, since we came here in an ambulance, not my car, so Jay had to pick us up.
I volunteered to go get the car, but Bev nearly cried at the idea of me leaving the room, so I stayed for her.
Jay stalks carefully out of the car, looking at Bev with so much sadness, but relief that she's okay. Surprisingly, he doesn't even try to go near her. He stays put, in the car.
I give Bev my hand, so she knows that I have to help her up, and she tentatively grabs it.
I feel her immediately tense up, but she holds it tight, standing up.
Jay opens the back door for her, and we help her slide in, silently. He closes the door, and he looks at me. I shake my head, telling him not to say anything. He nods, taking the wheelchair back to the hospital, since we don't need it anymore.
I open the passenger seat and sit down, turning around to look at her. "Do you want me to come back there and sit with you, or should I stay here?"
She fiddles with her hands, the bandaging on her hands stretching with each move from her wrist.
She eventually shrugs, not saying anything. I nod, turning back around. I want to sit with her, but I don't know if she'll feel comfortable with that.
The doctor said to push her boundaries little by little every day, to show her that not everyone is going to hurt her, but I don't know when it would be okay for me to do that, and by how much.
Not a drastic amount, but maybe just showing her that it's okay to do things that she's irrationally scared of now. But the doctor also said to let her be in charge of how far we go to help her.
