Chapter 4
The interns looked at me with curiosity, as if I were a fearless honey badger daring to take on the king of the jungle.
"Hi, good... good morning, Dr. Brennan," I said, a little nervous.
I waved awkwardly. "Just getting some steps in, you know, for my health. Boosting my immune system."
"You walked all the way to the elevator?" Danny asked, raising an eyebrow.
He walked over, sizing me up with a cold smirk. "What, is the elevator your treadmill now?"
"I..." I was at a loss for words.
"Go back," he said, his voice low and commanding.
He said only two words, leaving no room for argument.
"I'm starving," I finally burst out, whining in protest. "I haven't eaten all day. I'm a patient, not a prisoner.
"I deserve some basic rights. I want food."
Danny watched me throwing a fit, his eyes flickering with something I couldn't quite place.
He turned to the interns behind him. "Go check on Bed 33. I'll be there in a minute."
Once everyone had left, he walked over and looked down at me, that unreadable look still in his eyes.
"You're having an acute gastritis flare-up, so it's only liquids for you," Danny said, his voice cool but not harsh.
"Liquids? That works," My eyes sparkled. "Can I get some puddings? Or oatmeal? Maybe meat soup?"
Danny didn't say a word. He pulled out a thermos from behind his back like he was performing a magic trick.
I was so excited that I nearly jumped up and kissed him right then and there.
"Danny, you're the best. Even though we broke up, you still treat me better than most people," I rambled.
I kept rambling as I eagerly flipped the lid open.
But then my smile froze.
Inside was a container of milky soup.
Forget meat, there wasn't even a single piece of carrot in it.
"What is this?" I pointed at the container, my voice trembling.
"Soup," Danny said, unfazed. "It's gentle on your stomach."
"I'm not eating that," I slammed the lid shut. "Is this for pigs? Even pigs wouldn't eat this. I want meat. I want something with actual flavor."
"Not eating?" Danny raised an eyebrow.
He picked up the lid and screwed it back on, taking his time.
"Fine. Back to the IV then. Glucose will fill you up," he said, turning to leave.
With that, he turned to leave.
"Hey, don't go," I called out.
I immediately backed down, clutching his sleeve like a lifeline.
Dignity was precious, freedom was priceless, but when my stomach was empty, both were up for grabs.
"I'll eat it. I'll eat it, okay?" I muttered, sounding defeated.
I took the thermos and started drinking the bland soup, looking for all the world like a sulky kid, taking tiny sips one after another.
Danny leaned against the wall, watching me, the hint of a smile in his eyes.
"Slow down. Nobody's gonna snatch it from you," he said.
I rolled my eyes. Who'd want this anyway? Maybe someone would use it as wall paste.
"Cherry," Danny called out suddenly.
I looked up, surprised he was talking to me again.
"Yeah?" I mumbled, with a mouthful of soup.
"Don't do something that reckless again," he said softly, but every word hit home.
His voice was gentle, but it landed right in my heart.
He added, "I won't always be there when you need me."
I froze, spoon halfway to my mouth.
Somewhere deep in my chest, a bittersweet ache bloomed, swelling and stinging all at once.
Later that afternoon, a nurse came in to change my IV.
Her name was Freya Hart, and she had a round, rosy face with that clear-eyed, naive vibe only college kids had.
As she pulled out the needle, her eyes were burning with curiosity and gossip, sparkling as she looked at me.
"Hey, so you and Dr. Brennan know each other?" she asked, her voice full of intrigue.
I rubbed the spot where the needle had been, hesitating. "Yeah, you could say that. He's kind of... the guy I owe."
Love debts counted, too.
"That explains it," Freya exclaimed, her eyes wide. "I've been interning here for three months, and I've never seen Dr. Brennan so anxious.
"When you were brought in last night, he looked seriously pissed. He even tore into the on-duty doctor for not moving fast enough."
I was stunned for a second.
Danny was worried about me?
No way. That guy wouldn't even blink if a mountain fell on him. If the world exploded, he'd probably take notes for the record.
"You must've got it wrong," I said, waving her off. "That's his professional thing. He wants to strangle anyone who doesn't follow his orders."
Just then, the door swung open.
Speak of the devil.
Danny walked in, stethoscope in hand.
Freya stuck out her tongue and hurried out with her tray, shooting me a look that said, "Good luck with that, girl."
"Lift your shirt," Danny said, all business.
Seriously, again?
I instinctively covered my chest. "Dr. Brennan, isn't this inappropriate? I'm feeling way better. Do you really need to check again?"
Danny ignored my protests and walked over to the bed, looking down at me with that commanding stare.
"Should I do it, or are you going to do it yourself?" he asked.
He sounded like one of those overbearing CEOs from a trashy romance novel.
Mortified, I slowly unbuttoned the first button of my hospital gown, then the second.
Underneath, my SpongeBob tank top was on full display.