Chapter 2: After

It was warm and dimly lit. Quiet. I could hear something beeping faintly in the background, but it was far away and didn't bother me. I went back to sleep.

I had the oddest dream, though. I was on my hands and knees in a hospital bed, snarling. The man from the cellar was there, the one who made me drink his blood. He was telling me to calm down, no one was going to hurt me. He kept talking to me in this soothing, quiet voice, but I was so angry. Why? What was wrong? But he told me to go back to sleep and that seemed like a good idea so I curled up on the bed. My tail thumped against the bed a few times before I went back to sleep.

Wait. My tail?

Confused, I forced my eyes open again. White walls, shaded windows, faint beeping, and a smell that could only mean hospital. I looked down and there was an IV in my left arm. My right seemed to be in some sort of cast. I tried to wiggle my butt in the bed, but nothing really moved. Still, I couldn't feel a tail. Just a dream, I thought, and slipped back into sleep.

The next time I woke, I wasn't so sleepy. Correction, I wasn't high as a kite on whatever they were giving me for pain.

Must not have died then. What the hell happened?

I poked through my memories of that night and the more I thought about it, the more bizarre it got. There was no possible way I was attacked by a vampire. There is no such thing, is there? And where had those two guys come from? A wolf -- there had been a wolf there, too. That couldn't be what actually happened. I must have been in a car accident on the way home. That made sense. A car accident. The other stuff must be a dream from all the drugs I could feel in my system.

Vampires aren't real, I told myself firmly. It was just a dream. If it really had been a vampire, then I'd be one too, right? Did I have any overwhelming thirst for blood? I carefully considered before deciding that I didn't seem to be interested in it. Although I was pretty hungry, blood didn't seem to be my preferred meal. I could really go for a pizza, not that I was likely to find one in my hospital room. I thought about trying to find a call button, but it really seemed like too much effort.

He bit my neck though, didn't he? Tentatively, I reached for my neck. Just as my fingertips brushed the gauze bandage, the door to my room opened. A nice looking young man strolled in, carrying a binder which had to be my chart. He wore pale blue scrubs under a white lab coat with a stethoscope slung around his neck. He might as well be wearing a neon sign screaming, "Doctor here!"

"Ah, you're finally awake! I thought perhaps you might be." He smiled at me as he put my chart down on the bedside table and sat on the edge of my bed. "I'm Dr. Cummings. How are you feeling today?"

"Well, everything seems to hurt, but it's not terrible. I'm not in a real big hurry to go partying, though." My stomach rumbled loudly. "I don't suppose you have pizza around here? I'm pretty hungry, as I'm sure you just heard."

He laughed, "No pizza for you just yet. You were a very sick young lady when they brought you in. I want to make sure you're going to be able to keep food down before we go for the pizza. How about some orange Jell-O to start with?"

I wrinkled my nose, "Yes, please, that sounds utterly delightful." I nibbled on my lower lip in worry, "So, who exactly brought me in here and what happened to me?"

Dr. Cummings paused and I watched him carefully consider his answer. "Some friends brought you in. Don't you remember what happened?"

I started to shake my head, but the pain made me reconsider, "No, not really. I mean, I think I remember some of it. But it seems so weird that I don't think I'm remembering it correctly. What happened?" There was no way I was attacked by a vampire. Telling him that would land me in a psychiatric ward, for sure.

The doctor squeezed my hand, "Don't worry about it. Some confusion and memory loss is normal in cases like yours. Your friends will be able to clear it all up for you, I'm sure. Now let's have a look at you."

He took my pulse and waved his penlight in my eyes. Then he moved around the bed and started prodding my feet, demanding that I wiggle fingers and toes. I thought about flipping him the bird with the hand that wasn't in a cast, but that didn't seem terribly polite so I restrained myself. I was afraid to ask what all was wrong with me, but I had to know.

"Dr. Cummings? Am I going to be okay? Is any of this permanent?"

He frowned slightly, "Well, you had a lot of broken bones and some internal bleeding, but those injuries are healing and I don't believe any permanent harm was done. You've got a dozen stitches in your neck and you'll probably have bruises everywhere for a while. You were in pretty rough shape when you came in. You can thank your friends for your life. Without them, you wouldn't be here now."

What friends? He must be talking about the two men from the cellar who pulled my attacker off me. I didn't even know them, though one of them seemed vaguely familiar without the pain and terror of that night interfering with my ability to think. But I still couldn't make any positive identification of either of them.

"How long have I been in here and when can I go home? No offense. You seem pretty nice and all, but I'd really like to go home."

He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes, "You keep the orange Jell-O down, heal a little bit more, and I'll see what I can do. Looks like you might need another pint or two, yet." He tapped the empty bag on my IV stand. It had been blood. A second, full bag of clear stuff hung next to it. "You had some pretty serious injuries, not including the broken arm and the blood loss. Let's give it a few more days and see how it goes, okay?"

With a put-upon, dramatic sigh, I replied, "Alright, but the orange Jell-O better be damn tasty."

He laughed and adjusted the drip on the small, clear bag, "I'll see what I can do. For now, get some rest and the Jell-O will be waiting, I promise."

I was already getting sleepy as he let himself out of my room. That clear bag wasn't just saline, apparently it had the pain meds in it. With no real choice in the matter, I wiggled around a bit until I was mostly comfortable. As I drifted into sleep, I realized he hadn't told me how long I'd been in the hospital.

I felt pretty good the next time I woke up. A lot of the general soreness was gone. My arm and head weren't throbbing, which was a nice change. The IV was gone out of my arm and my left knee was no longer in a brace. I was definitely more alert and it felt like I could think clearly again.

The bed controls were easy to find and it felt good to sit up a little. The blinds were drawn so there wasn't much to see of the outside world. It was private room that seemed nice enough, as far as hospitals go. No television, which was odd. A quick glance confirmed there was no bedside phone either. Hmmm. There was a call button, though. Maybe the nurse could set me up with a phone? At the very least, I owed my boss a call and an explanation.