Stockholm Syndrome Ch 14 17

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

"Ow!" I moaned as Alex cleaned a few areas on my thigh with hydrogen peroxide and a Q-tip. I inhaled sharply and gritted my teeth.

It was around six in the evening, and I was lying on the bed after using the bathroom. I'd woken up with abdominal pain, but just attributed that to not having a bowel movement in three days. My stomach eased up only a little.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I know it hurts. I'm almost done." He tried to hide his voice from sounding worried, but he didn't do a very good job.

He put a topical antibiotic on before placing a bandage on the wound. When he was finished, he covered me up with a blanket, sat beside me and put the back of his hand on my forehead then my cheeks. "Hmm, you're not hot. Do you feel feverish?"

"No, not at all. I'm still on the antibiotic he gave me. It just takes time. I'll be fine. Hey, remember when we were in the elevator with Gustaf, and you told him to tell your granma you wouldn't be able to make it. What were you not going to make, if you don't mind me asking."

"Oh. It's our family gathering on Sunday. He understands—"

"But I don't. I'll be fine for the afternoon."

He shook his head. "I am not going to leave you alone."

"Alex, I'd give anything to have a family to get together with. Please, go." I was too tired at that point to worry about what I'd said.

He sighed. "We'll see how your leg is. Would that be alright?"

"Sure. But you're going," I said seriously but wore a smile. "Hey, what are those awards on your bookshelf?"

"Oh, those," he replied, like they weren't anything to him. "The one on the right is for Melancholia, the Hamptons International Film Festival award. The middle one is the Odense International Film Festival Grand Prix award for a Swedish film I did. The last one was the Satellite Awards, Special Achievement award for True Blood."

"Well, you keep it up, and you'll have all those shelves filled."

---------------

"If you think I'm going to sit here and take this shit from you you've got another thing coming!" I said with gusto and as much feeling as I could. Alex just stared down at me as I sat on the couch, my right leg propped up. His mouth hung open a little. "What?"

"Are you sure you never did any acting?"

"No, I never – Oh! I did in fifth grade. I was an oompa."

"A what?"

"An oompa loompa, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Hey, I'm just reading from the page, here."

He burst out laughing and shook his head. "Well, that was very good."

We only read through a few more pages before I got tired, my leg had begun to be unbearable sitting in the same position I was in, not to mention my stomach was cramping up.

So, we ate dinner, and Alex checked my leg again after I got into bed. It was still infected, and his reaction was the same, though he didn't say anything while he cleaned it.

It was only 8:30 that night, and he had just given me the, 'sleep well and holler for me if you need me' speech and was walking toward the door.

"Alex? When you're ready for bed, you can ... if you want to, come sleep with me."

I could tell he was thinking about it. "Are you sure?"

"Yes. I'm okay with it." And I was. I had no problem sleeping with him. We were just two friends sharing a bed.

He smiled. "I'd like that. I'll try not to wake you."

"It'd be okay. I won't mind."

---------------

The next morning, Sunday, I'd woken up before Alex. I stared at him as he slept peacefully, and he looked so gorgeous. There is nothing sexier than watching a man sleep, in my opinion. Looking over his face, I memorized every line of his face, and especially his sexy cleft chin.

I tried to go back to sleep, but my stomach was acting up again, and I had to go to the bathroom. I was able to make it on my own by then, but it was my turn to worry when I saw the blood in the toilet from my stool. To make matters worse, I felt chilled and achy, even though I was wearing one of Alex's wool sweaters that had stretched out and was now too big for him to wear. I took my antibiotic and some aspirin and slipped back into bed. He never woke up, so I never did say anything to him.

That was until he was about to leave to meet up with his family. He'd kissed me on my forehead as I lay in bed, where I promised to stay until he got back. Pulling back, his forehead was all wrinkled with frown lines. He put the back of his fingers on my forehead then used his palm. "Carrie, you have a fever."

"No, I don't," I lied. I knew by then I did.

"Yes, you do. I'm not going."

"Yes, you are. I'm wearing a thick sweater. It was cold last night. Go."

"No," he replied firmly, his hands on his hips.

"Alex, just go for a few hours. Nothing will happen in that short time. You have to go."

Again, he thought long and hard about it. "I'll stay two hours. But I'm calling you every half hour."

"Do that. I'll be fine."

"I don't like it, but I'll go."

"Good." My answers were short, my patience thin.

I wasn't getting rid of him or angry with him. That was a decision I'd made when I told him to go in the first place. I knew how much his granma meant to him, as well as his siblings, and I wasn't about to let him lose out on seeing them just because of me.

---------------

"Carrie? Carrie!" Alex screamed at me. I awoke with a start, since I'd been in a dead sleep since he left. "What's wrong? Why didn't you answer the phone?"

"Huh? Oh, uh," I looked around, confused at first. "I was sleeping."

"I called you, but you didn't pick up. You're flushed." He jumped up from the bed, ran to the bathroom and came back. "I'm taking your temperature."

I was too weak to argue with him. The reading went straight to 99.8, then higher and higher and higher. When it beeped he took it out and looked at it. "It's 102.4!"

"So? It's a fever. That's what fevers do."

"Right, and your thigh looks worse every time I clean it! I'm taking you to the hospital."

"No! For pete's sake, Alex! I've got the appointment tomorrow afternoon." I suddenly shivered and closed my eyes, just wanting to go back to sleep.

"You are not going to argue with me on this. I'll carry your ass out of here myself if I have to!"

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

"Carrie, how's the pain now?" the nurse asked as I lay on the hospital gurney in the emergency room. They were about to take me to radiology.

Alex was holding my hand tight because by the time we reached the hospital, I could have sworn my fever jumped to 120. I was shivering with cold, even with two blankets around me, sweating like hell and in as much pain as I was when I first woke up after the accident. The on-call doctor did look at my thigh, but I didn't like the expression on his face whatsoever.

I nodded. "Is better."

"Good. We should have the blood test results by the time you return. Just rest, take it easy."

I'd slept during the whole procedure, at least I think I did; if I woke up I don't remember it. All I remember was someone brushing my hair back by my temple and breathing heavily in my ear, as if talking.

"Carrie, wake up now," his voice whispered. "X-rays are all done. The doctor needs to talk to you."

"Al'?" I said sleepily.

"Yes, sweetheart. I'm here."

I smiled weakly and turned my head toward him, opening my eyes. "The doctor? What's he doing in your apartment?"

He frowned deeply. "No, hon. I brought you back to the hospital. You've got your own room again." The doctor said something to Alex, he nodded then the doctor left. "He'll be back in fifteen minutes. He needs you to come around from the sedative. He's got the results from the x-rays and blood work."

"Hmmph, yeah, blood. Give me your blood, Eric. You can heal me," I said lightly, being that I was actually more awake then, and I was just playing with him.

"Fuck," he uttered.

I smiled, reaching out for his hand. "I'm teasing you." His face immediately lightened, but he looked no less worried. "Can you bring the head of the bed up, please?" After he did, he sat beside me on the bed. "Did the doc tell you what's going on?"

He shook his head. "Patient-doctor privacy."

"I figured. Thought it was worth asking. How's your family?"

He looked at me dumbfounded. "You're ... you're lying here and you ask about my family?"

"Sure. Why not?"

He shook his head then I shivered with cold. He pulled the bed sheets up to my neck and buried my arms under as well. Only then did I realize there were tubes in the crook of my arm. "I wish there was something I could do."

I took his hand. "You're here. That's good enough for me."

He smiled, though I could tell it was forced. I was about to ask him something but the doctor walked in. "Well, well. Are you awake now, Ms. Boyce?" he asked cheerily, though it was hardly real.

"Yeah," I mumbled then shivered again. "I'm freezing, though."

"There are some blankets in the cabinet," the doctor replied.

Without even being asked, Alex jumped up, grabbed two thick blankets and covered me with them. He stood by the window, leaned against the wall, his arms crossed, and looking petrified.

"Mr. Skarsgard, I need to speak with Ms. Boyce alone, please."

Alex took a few steps towards the door, but I protested. "Let him stay? I mean, if you want to, Alex."

He looked at the doctor hopefully. "It is your choice," the doctor told him.

"Is it okay if I sit beside her, then?"

"That will be fine." Alex lowered the bed railing and sat down carefully. "It seems you have contracted Clostridium difficile."

"What the hell is that?" I asked. "Like a staph infection?"

"Yes, but it is a more virulent strain. I have put you on a heavier antibiotic as well as fluids for the dehydration. The x-ray shows your bowels are damaged, causing the diarrhea, and the infection has begun to affect your kidneys. Your thigh is very infected, and it seems to have spread." He looked at Alex as if to confirm. "Necrosis has set in many spots."

I let all that sink in. "So we just wait for the new antibiotic to start working? My kidneys are still okay, right?"

"For now. Your kidney function has deteriorated to 60 percent." I grew alarmed, but figured they'd repair on their own once the antibiotic kicked in. "Ms. Boyce, I do not think you are aware of the severity of your situation. Do you know what necrosis is?" I shook my head. "Necrosis is dead skin tissue caused by infection when not properly treated. I have a surgical room scheduled for you in an hour. We need to remove the dead tissue to ensure it does not spread further."

"Okay." I saw Alex look at me sharply. "Thank you, doctor." I didn't really care what his last name was.

The doctor nodded. "Mr. Skarsgard, may I see you out in the hall, please?"

Alex smiled down at me. "I'll be right back, I promise."

"I know you will," I replied, then closed my eyes.

I don't know how long he was gone, but I heard him walk back in. "So, looks like I'll be in here for another few days, huh?" When I didn't hear him say anything I opened my eyes. His eyes were filled with tears, and though his cheeks were dry, they were blotched red. "Alex? What's wrong?"

"Oh, Carrie," he mumbled, his voice was harsh and dry. "I am so sorry."

"No big deal. Another few days in the hospital won't kill me," I told him nonchalantly.

He turned his head away, his body tensed, and his shoulders shook intensely. After a moment he wiped his eyes, took a deep breath and looked back at me.

I said, "If you don't stop blaming yourself, I'm going to bruise you so badly—"

"I know, I know. You're right." He sniffed and wiped his face then sat beside me. "You'd better not snore."

"I don't ... do I?" I brought the blankets up to my neck and yawned.

"You did. The doctor said I could stay here, on the other bed, if you want me to."

I smiled, closing my eyes. "I would really like that."

The nurse came in and gave me a shot for the surgery to put me to out. "Okay, get some sleep. While you're in surgery I'll go get some clothes from home, but I will be back. I'll check in on you. Maybe they'll let me see you there in ICU afterwards."

"I hope so." I shivered.

The bed shook slightly then he kissed me on my cheek. Rubbing his cheek against mine, his mouth right at my ear, he whispered, "I'm not a praying kinda man, but I'm saying one for you."

---------------

"We will have to get her started on dialysis," I heard someone say, even though it sounded very distant and dream-like. "... antibiotics aren't working."

"Uh, will she lose the leg?" I heard, and recognized it as Alex's voice.

There was a hesitation. "We are beyond that point now. It's spread to her lungs ..."

I groaned, not because of what they were saying, but because something was pressing really hard on my face, and it was hard to breath.

"Sweetheart, Carrie," Alex said. "Relax."

"Wh' ..." It was all I could manage.

"Doctor, can I take the mask off?"

"Yes, but no more than five minutes."

The heavy weight was lifted off my face. "Alex."

"I'm here. Shh, just relax."

I forced my eyes open. His eyes were more swollen and bloodshot than before, and he looked like he hadn't slept in weeks.

"It's hard to breath," I muttered.

He leaned forward really close, took my hand and kissed the back of it. "Then don't talk."

"How'd the ... sur'gry go?"

"Fine. Now hush."

"How come I ... don't hurt?"

"Because you've been on some really good drugs for the past two days."

My eyes flew open. "Two days? I've been ... out for—" He nodded. "What were ... you and the ... doctor ... talkin' 'bout?" It was getting harder and harder to take a breath, much less talk.

"Nothing, nothing. Honey, I've got to put the oxygen mask back on you."

After he did, he laid down, his feet still dangling off the bed, his head resting on my shoulder. He put his hand on my chin, rubbing my cheek with his thumb. "You just rest and get some sleep, okay? You've got to get stronger. I've still got to take you to sunset hill."

I smiled through the mask and nodded. Something in his voice told me we wouldn't make it.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

I slept for I don't know how long, but woke up to find Alex asleep on the bed next to mine. I lay there for a while, trying to assess how my body was. It was still pleasantly numb, though my back was killing me. My arm was tighter, like something was wrapped around it. There was an odd sound by my head, beside the bed. I was still wearing the oxygen mask, but it wasn't the same noise that I remembered earlier.

I was just about to go back to sleep when the doctor walked in. "Good morning, Ms. Boyce," Dr. Lindberg said, his voice loud.

"Shh," I warned, but it didn't go anywhere. He set his clipboard down on the table beside the bed and removed the oxygen mask. "Don' wake ... Al'x up," I mumbled.

"Right," he whispered. "Sorry."

A million questions ran through my brain to ask him, but he walked to the contraption beside the bed, checking the display before he turned back to me.

"Mind if I sit?" he asked, pointing to the bed. I nodded. He sat down, his face turned sympathetic. "First of all, Jessica Peachtree from the American Embassy will be by this afternoon to talk with you, to help you with any questions you may have."

Okay, that doesn't sound good.

"Carrie, you have been on two of the strongest antibiotics available since the surgery on Sunday; neither worked. I have conferred with two of our best doctors here in Stockholm, and we agree the necrosis on your thigh tissue is too extensive to repair. It is not feasible to amputate your leg because the infection has already spread to your lungs."

"That's why ... breath?"

"Yes. You are in renal failure and on dialysis now."

"Oh. How ... long ... need to stay ... on—"

"No, no. You don't understand."

"Care." Alex stepped up to the other side of the bed. The expression on his face killed me.

"Wh'." He had to clear his throat. "What he's trying to say is—" His voice was wracked with so much pain and fear that he had to sit down on the chair, his face in his hands.

"Carrie, I am afraid there is nothing that can be done. The infection will eventually spread to your heart."

I let that sink in. It only took a second. "I'm ... dying?" There was no panic or fear in my voice at all. It was like I said, 'I'm blonde.' Dr. Lindberg nodded; Alex whimpered softly. "How long?"

"A few days, at the most," the doctor answered. "You'll be on morphine so you won't be in pain."

"Okay. Thank ... you."

He stood, a little shocked at my reaction, I assumed. "You can keep the mask off for a few minutes to talk with Alex but no more than ten minutes. Understand?" I nodded.

As he walked out, I looked over at Alex, and if my heart hadn't broken before over him, it sure as shit did then. I didn't know what to say to him. I closed my eyes, content, wanting just to sleep.

"How in the fuck can you just say, 'Okay? Thank you for telling me I'm dying?!'" Alex yelled so loud it startled me, and I looked at him confused.

He stood there angry, angrier than he'd ever been with me. He sighed heavily and ran his hand through his hair. Then he burst into tears. Again, I was so flabbergasted I didn't know what to say to him. So I lay there watching him, my own tears starting to flow, but not from my predicament, Alex's.

Several minutes went by before he gained somewhat of control over himself.

"Alex," I said as I stuck my hand out for him. He didn't come to me at first. It was like he was afraid of me now, like I was going to die as soon as he touched me. "Alex," I repeated.

Finally he came and stood beside the bed staring down at me. I grabbed his forearm and squeezed as hard as I could, which wasn't much, I was sure. "Don' cry."

"I didn't want ... I didn't mean ... Oh, Carrie."

He threw himself at me, sobbing even more. His head was on my chest, so I reached up and put my hand on the back of his head. I let him cry, and as I did, I soon realized he must have known the prognosis wasn't good. That's why he'd cried in the hallway when the doctor pulled him out. There was nothing I could do to get rid of his guilt ... or was there?

---------------

"Okay, Carrie. I've got all of your instructions," Jessica Peachtree said later that afternoon. "I am truly sorry for ..."

"Don't be," I replied. "I appre – thanks."

For some odd reason, I felt better than I did in the morning. I slept hard, which was rare for me. My chest was still tight, but it was easier to breath and talk, although I still needed the mask. By the time she left I was exhausted but still awake.

She had been gone only a second before Alex came back in. "Hey," I greeted him. "Missed you."

He smiled, the first time all day. He'd been unusually quiet since I'd woken up and before Jessica came in. I couldn't blame him.

"Missed you too."

I was expecting him to lie beside me, but he stood there staring down on me. "Lie with me?" He slipped onto the bed on his side and propped his head in his hand. "Alex, you have to ... promise me ... not to let it ... get to you, about me."

He hesitated before he answered. "I can't do that." His voice was so distraught.

"Yes. You. Can."

"I ... I can't live with the guilt."

I put my hand on his cheek and waited for him to look at me. "You did me a ... favor."

"How? I don't see it that way."

"I do. I'll be seeing ... my family sooner than I ... planned."

His head jerked back, and his eyes filled with tears again, but he didn't break down. "I don't know what to say or do," he confessed.

"Just stay ... with me. Be that ador ... able, sweet guy that I've ... come to know and love."

He actually smiled. I tilted my head down and kissed him softly; he didn't pull back. It was sweet, the sweetest kiss I think I've ever had. He threw his arm over my stomach before he put his head on my shoulder.