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After: Epidural


Nick

"Ashley's chosen you since the day you met her," Chris said.

Silence.

Dead silence.

I stared at his hands. One night, a damn long time ago, Chris and I had been smoking and I'd really noticed his hands. I remember the night clearly - well, as clearly as one can possibly remember a night like that, that is - and I remember thinking it was extremely profound how we all have hands just like that, how we all had these fingernails and knuckles and palms and stuff. I remember studying my own hand, comparing it to Chris's, and thinking how weird it would look if we traded hands, if his hands were on me and my hands were on him. I remember thinking that was weird because really all hands were kinda the same thing. But now, sitting there in the waiting room at the hospital, I realized that not all hands are the same. Not even close.

Chris's hands for example had tried to kill Ashley.

I rubbed the back of my neck and stared down at my shoes, trying to push the image of him choking her out of my mind... mainly because if I kept it there much longer, I was going to have to choke him.

"Funny, ain't it," Chris muttered, "How we've kinda come a full circle here?"

"How so?"

"Well eighteen months ago, Ashley and I sat in these seats worrying as one about you. Today, you and I sit here worrying as one about Ashley," he paused, "About the woman we love."

"Don't. Don't do this," I said, shaking my head.

"Don't do what?"

"Act like you love her. You don't love her."

"I love her," he said defensively.

I shook my head, "You don't, though. If you did, you'd never hurt her. You'd let her go before you'd ever hurt her. You'd let her go because you just want her to be happy, even if that meant your whole life shattering." I swallowed, "You'd walk her down the aisle to marry the other guy if that's what made her happy." I looked down at the floor. "So don't you say you love her because you don't. You posess her, sure. But you don't love her."

Chris shifted in his seat. "Why the fuck didn't you tell her before the night of the wedding?"

"I tried to," I said.

Chris leaned back in his seat. He sighed.

"How could you look at her and strike her?" I asked.

Chris chewed the inside of his mouth. "I don't know. But when I'm mad... damn. It feels good when I'm mad. And it's easy once you do it once. It's like a high. You take a hit, and you can't stop yourself from going back for more."

"You're disgusting."

Chris shrugged.

I looked away from him, rage burning in my stomach. In a messed up way, I understood in the most infantesimal way though: at that moment, it would've been a high to beat the shit out of Chris.

"Don't worry," he said, "I'm getting what's coming to me."

I turned back to him, my jaw gritted.

"That doctor guy... Did you see his face when he saw the bruises? No way in hell is he gonna let me walk out of this hospital a free man."

I raised my eyebrow.

"You know he's calling the cops. Or maybe already has."

"So why haven't you run yet?" I asked.

Chris shrugged, "Knowing she's okay is more important."

"She was just fine until you tried to choke her."

Chris looked away.

The double doors leading off to the exam rooms openened and a nurse came out. She wasn't the nurse who'd been with Dr. Jorryn originally, this was a new one. She looked around the room. "Who's here for Ashley Jackson?" she called. Chris and I both stood up and jostled each other trying to get to the nurse first. She looked perplexed.

"Which one of you is the father?" she asked.

"That'd be me," we both said at the same time.

Chris turned to me. "Unless your sperm is in me then I'm pretty sure that would be me," he snarled.

"You wish my sperm was in you," I snarled back.

The nurse clicked her fingers to get our attention back on her. "Which one of you is the actual father? I know it isn't both of you."

Chris grinned gloatingly as grudgingly thumbed at him.

"Okay, now see, that wasn't so hard was it?" the nurse asked. "Come with me," she said, and she led Chris through the double doors.

I swore, loudly enough several heads turned, and kicked the trash bin by the receptionist's desk.

The doors opened again.

"Nick?"

I looked up.




Ashley

Okay so I did not get the memo how fucking huge epidural needles look until the anethesiologist was prepping mine.

I felt my eyes go wide.

"Where exactly does that thing go?" I asked. I don't think they heard me.

The anethesiologist touched my back with an alcohol cotton swab. I jumped. The swab was cold and I hadn't been expecting human contact back there. He had me turned on my side, facing the door, my gown pushed up. I hugged the pillow.

"Where's Nick?" I begged. I did not want that thing shoved up my ass or something without Nick being there.

It was like magic, my asking. The words were only just out of my mouth and the door opened and Nick spilled into the room, his face pale with worry, his eyes wide, hair a mess, shirt flecked with blood and wrinkles from the fight. He crossed the exam room so fast, and grabbed hold of my hands. Dr. Jorryn pushed a chair over for him and Nick grabbed onto it and dropped into it, staring into my eyes. "You okay?"

"I'm getting an epidural for the --" as I was about to say the word pain, one ripped through me and I cried, squeezing Nick's hands in my own. He winced, but didn't complain, and I made a mental not to make a point of thanking him later.

If I made it through this.

"What's an epidural?"

Dr. Jorryn answered, "It's an injection in the lower back to numb the pain she's feeling and will feel during delivery."

Nick looked up at Dr. Jorryn to ask another question, but the anethesiologist was holding up the epidural needle and Nick's eyes went wide. "Mother of crap," he exclaimed. He looked at me, "Don't look."

"I've seen it," I answered.

"Jesus."

"You'll feel a small pressure," the anethesiologist said.

I closed my eyes.

Nick held my hands tight.

I felt like someone was shoving a pen through my back. I grabbed Nick and squeezed my eyes shut, my hands shaking. Sweat was pouring down my face. "Oh God... oh God..." I sobbed.

Nick rubbed my shoulder.

"It's gonna help you feel better," Nick said, leaning his head close to mine. Our foreheads touched. I could smell his breath, feel his eyelashes moving as he blinked. "It's gonna be okay."

"Okay... there... see... needle not so bad, was it?" Dr. Jorryn asked.

"It fucking still hurts!" I wailed. These doctors were quacks. They were giving me placebos. They were trying to torture me. They wanted me to feel every inch of my body tearing open. I wanted to break something.

"It takes just a moment," the anesthesiologist said. "Here, let's have you roll over, it'll help distribute the epidural in the cavity."

"Rolling over hurts!" I wailed.

Nick squeezed my hand, "It's gonna help you, baby, it's gonna help you."

With Nick's reassurance and the help of the two doctors, I rolled my fat self from my right side onto my left. Nick reached around me, hugging me, his chest against my back. He laughed. "What could possibly be funny right now?" I demanded.

"Your tushies showin'."

"STOP LOOKING AT MY TUSHIE!" I cried.

Nick laughed, "Okay okay."

"Close the gown," I demanded.

"I already did," Nick said.

"You did not!"

"Yes I did!"

"I didn't feel you close it," I argued.

Dr. Jorryn smiled down at me. "I guess the epidural's working now."

I blinked.

Well shit! That was a lot better...