Light colors were meant to be comforting. White was considered the universal choice of color used in every institution. Sometimes white was contrasted with light green or blue accents. It was a proven fact that it helped people be more relaxed and comforted. But that's neutralized when you add bright lights and beeping machines.
Hospitals were not relaxing at all.
"And there you go," Arya Singh, her doctor and once foster mother said. "I'll be back to change your dressing before you go to sleep. Are you sure you don't want to go on a walk? Any form of light exercise will help you recover faster—"
"I'm fine."
Being in Blind Spot's infirmary for the past three days, Genevieve had recovered faster than expected according to Dr. Arya Singh. It was also lucky that the bullet missed an artery by an inch and didn't hit any major organs. Agent Deaton and the helicopter pilot had also gotten her to Old City, Philadelphia as quick as possible. According to the doctors, if Genevieve wasn't operated on within 48 hours of getting shot, she was unlikely to have survived.
Marlowe Agnor had come in with Agent Deaton earlier and Genevieve's suppressed guilt about Marlowe's father had resurfaced. Deaton had stepped up and helped Marlowe the past months. She had become a parental figure of sorts. She wasn't angry at Genevieve anymore. That helped her guilt crawl back under.
"Can I turn around now?" Carlos asked with his back to them. Mrs. Singh had demanded he turn around while she changed Genevieve's dressing. Genevieve had met almost everyone from the team she had worked with last August. But out of everyone Carlos seemed to be the most frequent visitor.
"Yes," she told him. "You can."
A lot hadn't been said since Carlos arrived. This being the third day, not as many people came in to check up on her. Besides that, she wasn't in the mood for too much talking. She felt parched without even doing anything.
Carlos plainly stared at her before opening his mouth to speak. He didn't say anything, but he was obviously here to tell her something.
"Do you want to say anything or are you just going to sit there?"
There was a woman sharing her room. Her leg was held up by two chords strapped around a cast in which her ankle was wrapped in. She had the day's newspaper covering the upper half of her body. Genevieve didn't know much about her, but she assumed that she was an agent or someone from intelligence. It also made her anxious that while the woman knew who Genevieve was and how she looked from all the people that had visited her.
But there was a curtain separating them. And no one made any contact.
"I think there are much more important things we could be discussing right now—for example, our topic of discussion the other morning." Her attention shifted back to Carlos. His back straightened, his eyes lighting up as if he suddenly remembered something. "Among those important things, you should know that Director Davidson wants to see you when you're feeling a little better."
She sunk against the bed frame. "I guess I'll never feel better then."
Genevieve could not think of a single good reason she should see Cory Davidson. Granted, there were several things that made sense to ask Davidson about why she was here. Or why his agents were on her protection detail. Or maybe she was just being hypersensitive.
Carlos coughed out a barely audible laugh. "I don't want to get into you and Davidson right now—"
"Why are you talking to me?" It was a very abrupt thought that Genevieve hadn't meant to say. Mrs. Singh had left the room and her roommate seemed dead behind the daily newspaper. From the look on Carlos's face, Genevieve felt the need to say it again. Like a normal person this time.
"What I mean is, a few months ago we barely even talked, and now..." she told him. "Not even now—but since I left in August. You've just been so, so nice. And I'm kind of grateful that you have been helping, but its bit strange that you still—"
This time his laugh was audible. "Genevieve calm down. You just seemed pretty lost with everything and—geez, can't someone just be nice to you, Gen?"
"I just thought you'd rather be shooting rifles or something." Her voice came out as an awkward mumble. She wasn't embarrassed or anything, just slightly uncomfortable. "Besides, you can't deny that it is somewhat concerning."
"Helping you?" Carlos asked, his eyes widening in mock shock. "Don't think I like you now, Gen." His upturned lips left their smile as he tried to clarify what he said. "I mean I do like you, but only enough to help you out here and there and not—"
"What's with all this talk with likes?"
Jackson Wilfred stood outside of her hospital room with a ghost of a smile on his face. The creeping smile on Genevieve's face returned quickly to its flat expression. And then a frown.
When she left being a Blind Spot helper months ago, Genevieve hadn't left on the best terms with her brother. She wasn't angry at him anymore—perhaps resentment and bitterness—but no anger. Nothing was resolved or fixed. And now staring at her brother, she didn't feel anything that wasn't plain and moderate.
Everything seemed to go blank.
Clearing his throat, Carlos stood up and gave her a look, "this is what I was trying to tell you about." And then he left.
Jackson entered the room and titled his head to look at her as if he couldn't believe he was seeing her again. Or maybe he hadn't heard that his little sister had been shot by an unknown woman in black leather.
He seemed taller than before, but maybe that was because she was lying down. She thought people didn't grow after twenty. Sitting upright in the bed, she saw him much clearer under the annoyingly bright lights. He wore a button up shirt, jeans and a trench coat like jacket over it. Jackson never wore a long jacket.
"I'll ask around if that woman who shot you woke up," he told her, his hand fidgeting. "But they'll probably do some questioning and try to track down who sent her and all that stuff but—"
Genevieve lips turned upwards into what she hoped was a unsure smile. "You didn't have to."
Jackson stopped his stuttering over words, "I'm your brother. I really had to."
"I thought you'd be the first one to see me," she said, immediately stopping when she saw the look on Jackson's face. He thought she was angry. "Mrs. Singh told me you weren't here."
He nodded, "Yeah. On a mission."
"Alone?"
"No," he said, taking a seat by her. "I was with Flynn Davidson and another local agent. How do you feel?"
She made a face and clicked her tongue, as if a bullet was only a minor inconvenience. It was not. Genevieve had a very low pain tolerance. "It doesn't hurt as much now. How long were you gone for?"
"Not long."
Liar, she thought. Jackson wasn't telling her the truth and she understood why. He was probably sworn in to not disclose any confidential information to people like her. It was also the reason they were now making small talk. The intrusive brightness of the fluorescent lights, the unknown female roommate and a dressing pressed against the bullet wound only added to the discomfort and awkwardness created simply by her brother being in the same room as her.
Jackson stayed there and talked to her for a long while before his hand started to wander towards his breast pocket, but then just stretched out his hand. Was he trying to give her something? But before she could ask anything of it, someone knocked on the open door turning their attention to her.
"Davidson said he wants you in his office," said the unnamed woman. Jackson looked at Genevieve, almost unsure what impression it would leave if he left her right now for Davidson. The woman saw that look. "It's standard protocol, Jacks. You know that. I'll see you after your talk with Davidson."
Her brother looked at her again and she couldn't help but smile. The control she had over him now was undefeatable. A strong surge of guilt went through her, but she ignored it. It wasn't like she'd use her brother. That would never happen.
So, Genevieve took her brother's hand and said: "You can come back later. Go."
With a departing smile and promise to see her soon, Jackson Wilfred left. And Genevieve was back to staring at the fluorescent lighting of the hospital that dampened her mood more and more by the minute.
There wasn't much she could do. Her stomach hurt enough for her to not try and take a stroll around the room. The only thing she remotely felt motivated to do was lay down back straight onto the stiff hospital mattress and take a nap. But there was too much adrenaline in her right now. She couldn't sleep.
Choosing to stare back at the ceiling lighting, Genevieve sighed. Was there anything that could make time go quicker?
"I heard you were shot in the stomach," a voice came from the corridor. A second later she tilted her head upward. Leaning against the entrance in a three piece suit was Flynn Davidson. "How are you?" he asked.
She could've choked on her own laugh. The Gods of boredom listened. And they delivered. "Have you ever been shot?"
"Yes. Not in the stomach though."
Genevieve pursed her lips, silently telling him he wouldn't understand the pain of being shot in the stomach, unless and until he was shot in the stomach.
Now she had seen everyone she had worked with last year. Everyone had changed. Some had longer hair, some were married and some seemed to have completely changed personalities. Even her brother had changed—someone who's biggest change in the last year had been from the status of deceased to alive. Flynn Davidson was the same. There wasn't a hair out of place and he still had that superior air around him. It was infuriating.
"Since when do you and my brother go on missions together?" she asked as he started coming inside. He sat down on the chair beside the hospital bed.
"Since we got assigned to the same case."
She could only nod. She couldn't feel the stare of her roommate beside her, or hear the rustling of papers being flipped over in her hand. It should have relieved Genevieve, finally being alone. But it didn't. Flynn Davidson had been on a mission with her brother.
Flynn had known and spent time with Jackson more than she had in a long time.
And whose fault is that? A voice said in the back of her head.
Crossing her legs under the blanket, her face morphed into the classic FLynn Davidson squinting look. This was the first time she had seen him in a suit. This was the first time she had seen any man that she knew even as an acquaintance in a suit. It looked... nice.
Not that she would tell him that. Luckily, she didn't have to ask why he was wearing a suit because he caught her long glance and answered himself: "It goes with the cover and economy class ticket."
"Jackson wasn't wearing a suit," she said abruptly, trying to justify her looking. Staring. "I thought you two would have come together from your mission—or at least, you know, something like that."
He chuckled. Genevieve's shoulders relaxed.
Eventually, her gaze dropped to her fingers playing with the edge of the blanket. She didn't know what to do. The awkward silence of an unasked heavy question was weighing between them. Why are you here? She couldn't ask it without seeming rude or insanely insecure.
Clearing his throat he stated: "Jackson was in earlier than me." After a moment he spoke again, "Did he—"
"He came by already."
"Are you two still not good? I thought five months would be enough to cool off by now."
"We didn't fight," she told him, eyebrows scrunched. "Why?"
A black suddenly appeared from one of his suit pockets and he tossed it to her as if it burned him. "It's from... your brother. For your birthday," he explained quickly. Genevieve thought he probably regretted it now. Getting involved in family entanglements always backfired. It was enough that his father did so too. But he probably didn't have enough experience to handle the consequences.
June fifth had passed and opening the box now—and especially in front of Flynn—seemed wrong. So, she simply squeezed the black box in her hand and secretly decided that whatever was inside, she would not wear it.
The last time she had gotten "jewelry" from Jackson Wilfred, it had had a tracking chip inside it.
- - - -
So... I finally updated! :~#
I'm sorry I haven't been able to update in a long while. I just had exams and then was really demotivated overall, so yeah. But updates should be regular now, cause do plan to try and finish this book before mid July.
Anyway, what do you think will happen next?
Hint: A certain favourite girl of mine with red hair and the initials of N.H will grace Nevi next chapter.
So, thanks for reading! And don't forget to vote and maybe comment :) ?