Chapter 260: Wake-Up Princess.

What a majorly fucked up mess. Those cops have their work cut out for them.

Once the cops, Human Resources, and the hospital lawyers left, the doctor managed to still get another three hours of sleep, in my arms, before needing to get up. Since the room had a lock and shower, she told me to stay put. Sex was over a line she wasn’t going to cross. I’m cool with that. Taking a shower with me, however, seemed fine to her. After showering, we ate in the cafeteria before going our separate ways.

Dolly was sitting there beside Molly’s bed when I came up to the ICU. She told me that her mom had to go home early because of Nelly’s therapy sessions were not going well this week.

Once Dolly had left, one of the night shift nurses told me that they were still trying to figure out what was going on with her. There were no signs of any illness or anything showing up on the scans, and Molly was in perfect health.

“Fluids aren’t getting her what her body needs David. She is going into surgery in a few hours to have a feeding tube put in. We tried sitting her up to see if she would swallow on her own, but she didn’t. She needs nutrition,” the nurse told me.

It sucked but made sense.

I was just getting one of the ICU patients in a gown when someone came rushing in looking for me. They didn’t tell me much other than I had to hurry. Something was up with Molly. They took me right into the surgical suite where they had prepped to get her feeding tube inserted.

When I got into the room, I saw a naked Molly backed into a corner and holding two scalpels. If anyone even got within five feel her, she lunged forward at them to back them off. If they didn’t, she used one of the scalpels to do something to them made them reconsider not backing off. Her actions were precise. I saw the last nurse that tried to get close. She had her shirt and bra cut cleanly down the middle without a mark on her.

“The patient was being prepped for surgery. To ensure she didn’t wake up during the procedure, the anesthesiologist gave her a mild sedative,” a doctor told me. “She reacted as if she had a strong electrical shock. Since that time, she has been as you see her now. I’m very sure I don’t want to know how she can ambidextrously respond with both scalpels simultaneously to make the precision actions without once drawing any blood.”

“I could tell you, but then she would have to kill you,” I deadpanned. “Just joking. Her brain processes things a lot faster than ours. If I had to guess, she already calculated in her head exactly how to wield those scalpels, to do whatever she decided to do, before each person moved within the perimeter she made around herself. You are fortunate I was here at the hospital. I doubt anyone here could properly concoct something that would knock her out instead of how she is right now. Let me go disarm her first we can see if she remains conscious or goes back to her previous state.”

As I get to the five-foot distance, one of the orderlies grabbed at my arm and pulled me back, saying, “You need to stay back, or you will get cut by her.”

“I doubt it,” I told him as I kept moving closer to Molly. “I’m faster than her.”

Not seeing any quick flashes of recognition on Molly’s face, I moved close enough for her to jump out at me. Before I even thought about doing something to get the scalpel, she was slashing toward me, I quickly blocked her arms and had grabbed both from her hands. Somewhere in my mind, I knew they always discarded the scalpel blades after one use. That was the only reason I could think of for throwing both into the bar of soap the surgeon had used to wash up before the surgery.

Molly, now disarmed, lunged at me. I got into position to where I was able to have her smack her chest into mine. One arm I put around her lower back and the other under her armpits. She wasn’t flailing arms to hit anyone other than me. Molly wasn’t saying anything, but she was screaming her head off. Somewhere deep in her brain, a neuron fired at the right time. Even with her screaming, she now had her arms around behind my neck and legs around my waist.

As I started moving toward the door, a burly female orderly tried to take her from me.

“I wouldn’t. Molly is autistic, very autistic,” I told the nurse. “According to her mom, I’m the only person who can touch her, while conscious, that doesn’t cause her to freak out. The way she was acting when I came in, she is scared out of her mind. I don’t want to find out how she will be if this is how she responded to a mild sedative. Let me get her back up into her bed in the ICU so they can observe her after I get all the pads put back on her.”

Was it the tone of my voice or the way Molly was now holding onto me like a baby monkey? Maybe he saw that I was in scrubs with a badge that had let me come right into the surgical suite?

On the way back up to the ICU, she went quiet unless someone got to close to her, then she screamed until they got well away from us.

Someone had called the ICU, and they had everything they would need me to re-attach to her on a cart near the bed. She didn’t want to let go even when I had her laid down.

“Let go, Molly. We must get you all wired back up to keep a close eye on you. They had no idea why you wouldn’t wake up,” I told her as I used the place in my head to pull enough energy from her muscles to make her let go. “I don’t want to know how you got the catheter out, but they have to put one back in for now. Same for the IV. I can’t do those.”

Not that I am giving her any choice in the matter.

No matter how much she wanted to fight the nurses, I made sure she didn’t have the energy to fight them. The first time she started to scream, I told her to cut it out. There were very sick and injured patients in the ICU that needed their sleep. She was not going to disturb them, even if that meant I had to keep her from opening her mouth. This time I did see a small response register on her face before she closed her mouth. While Molly wasn’t happy about it, she dealt with the nurses doing their thing, as I put on the monitoring pads again. Once they quit poking and prodding her, she was out cold. For most of the night, she didn’t respond to any stimuli, as she had been doing since I brought her in.

At four in the morning, one of the nurses brought her dinner out to the nurse’s station to eat since she was the only RN on duty. They had an LPN helping to cover until they could get more people hired, but this was more of a hands-on experience for her since she just got her LPN a few months ago.

Out of the blue, Molly sat up and asked, “Can I have some of that? I’m hungry.”

“You’ve been out for a few days, Molly. I think you’re going to be stuck with broth and Jell-O for a few meals,” I told her.

“Ok,” Molly said.

She was back to being unconscious but wasn’t unresponsive now. If I held her hand, she gripped mine back. Anyone else touching her made her pull away from them. The nurses decided to wait for her mom and the doctors to come to check on her. I passed the time away by helping them with the other patients.

Molly was still asleep when her mom came up to the ICU. She got the updates about last night. When the doctors came up, a little later, Molly was still pulling away when they tried to touch her, but she wasn’t awake. Finally, her mom called her name and told her it was time to wake up. She had to do what the doctors said so she could go home.

Interesting. Is there something from when Molly was younger that makes her respond to her mom this way?

“I’m hungry,” Molly said, shocking her mom. She said it very clearly and at a reasonable speed for regular people.

Her mom patted Molly’s hand and said, “After the doctors do their checks and make sure they feel it is ok for you to eat.”

“David, I’m hungry,” she said to me.

I hated doing it but told her I was with her mom on this one. She had passed out in my arms at my house. Last night was the first kind of any response she had given to anyone. We didn’t want to do anything that might put her back in her coma-like state.

She asked for her phone only to get told by a doctor, “Sorry, Molly. You’re going to have to speak to us, use sign language, or write things down. All of which I know you dislike doing. We can’t evaluate your cognitive abilities when you are writing novels with a few flicks of your finger.”

I could tell by the quick changes in her expressions that she wasn’t happy and couldn’t quite figure out what to respond. When she said, “sphincter,” we all busted up laughing.

“Hello. I see your badge says your name is David. It is a pleasure to meet you, David. The surgeon last night said you diffused a very volatile situation last night. I’m glad Molly finally let herself reach out to someone. She has been my patient since she was very young,” the doctor told me. “I had to watch the security camera footage before I permitted myself to believe that Molly voluntarily clung to your body, versus trying to escape. She has always required some form of sedation to permit examinations or any form of contact with her body. The formulation required differs greatly from that used last night. None of my records show any indications that she was verbal, other than screams and grunts, until the night she began talking to you in the emergency room. You are perfect for her, David. It is a pleasure to meet you finally.”

Molly’s face was showing her expressions long enough that others could see them too. It was also evident when she didn’t like a question he asked because she would flip the doctor a bird. Her mom tried to be a mom and tell Molly that she needed to be polite but gave up when the doctor said that was a perfect response. It provided him with a significant amount of insight into Molly’s current state of mind and thought processes. A bit later, he put a piece of paper on a clipboard. It had some very complex math problems. He timed her as she solved each one. I knew she was doing them in her head, but after the first few, she began to slow way down.

“Starving. Need nutrients,” Molly said as she took the whiteboard to start writing something out.

The doctor looked it over, erased some things, and gave it back to her. She added others to replace those he had removed. They did this over and over until the doctor finally stopped.

He looked her right in the eyes as he said, “I have a Ph.D. in organic chemistry, Molly. I’m not allowing any form of stimulant until we have some idea what caused your catatonic state. Your choices right now are going to be sugar-free flavored gelatin, reconstituted beef broth, or eggs. If you choose eggs and keep them down, I will permit two cans of vegetable juice.”

He wouldn’t let her have the whiteboard back and turned his back to her so she couldn’t sign to him.

“Gangrenous sphincter carbuncle,” she yelled at him. “Eggs, cheese, spices, V8.”

“That wasn’t so hard now was it?” he asked Molly.

She gave him a dirty look, flipped him a bird, and said, “Yes.”

He asked her mom to come with him to get his initial results of her brain functioning. About the time he left, a pediatrician making his rounds of the ICU came over to do his thing. He asked one of the nurses over, and he pulled the covers down to Molly’s knees. He was just about to remove Molly’s gown when he noticed me.

“Son, I need to ask you to leave while I do my examination. The patient’s exam requires her to gown removed,” he said.

He didn’t know me, so I said, “One word, scalpels.”

Well, I can’t help it that he didn’t bother to read up anything on Molly before trying to touch her. Does he think anyone is going to find anyone to restrain her for him?

The nurse got the worst of it. Molly got her feet loose from the protective restraints before the doctor or nurse realized it. I saw the nurse stumbling backward, holding Molly’s gown, before slamming into the nurse’s station.

So, maybe the nurse didn’t get the worst of it.

Molly’s scream was shrill and very high pitched. Somehow, she managed to pull off each wire from the pads on her body without removing the electrode and disconnected her IV line before she jumped off the end of her bed right toward me. I caught her in the air. Molly was back in my arms, wrapped around me like a baby monkey. The doctor staggered out from beside her bed, holding his ears, before dropping to his knees. He stayed like that until a nurse went to check on him.

Knowing the doctor couldn’t hear me, I told his nurse, “Oh. Did I forget to tell you that she was way off the far end of the autism scale and doesn’t like people touching her? Then there is her skill with scalpels. As you can see, she doesn’t mind me touching her.”

Molly’s doctor and her mom came rushing in to see why Molly had screamed. They got the short version. Between her mom and her doctor, I’m not sure which was holding the other back. It took a while to get everything settled back down after someone removed that doctor and nurse from the ICU.

“How does such an imbecilic human become a doctor? While sounding unprofessional, I’m quite pleased that Molly is likely to have burst both of his eardrums. It isn’t his first time making the mistake of failing to read the notes on a patient’s chart before attempting to examine them. The chart clearly showed me as her physician and to contact me before examining her. Molly doesn’t like me touching her during a checkup, but grudgingly permits it when required,” he told everyone.

To Molly, he said, “You know better than to scream in the ICU. I don’t care one bit that you calculated the exact frequency in your vocal range to cause his injury or the precise location required. These patients are here because they need intensive care, just as you have since you arrived. I will let it slide this time, given the unique situation.”

By the time Molly’s cheese eggs and vegetable drinks arrived, things had settled down. Her doctor checked her over from head to toe, twice before telling her no unprotected sex for at least two months. The labs he had gotten run showed her hormone levels were way off from her last stay in the hospital.

“As part of the diagnostic process to determine causes for your catatonic state, we removed your IUD to eliminate it as a possible cause,” he told her. “You aren’t getting another one either. When we scoped your uterus, we found significant irritation that concerned your gynecologist. Don’t go trying to find another gynecologist to insert another IUD. I will find out. You will have children one day, Molly, and I don’t want to risk scaring your uterus.”

She didn’t look happy but accepted it. Once she had finished inhaling her food and vegetable drinks, she wrote that she was still hungry. Her doctor told her she could have all the broth she wanted once they had her down in a room on a high observation floor. It would be right outside the nurse’s station, and they would be checking on her every fifteen minutes. He would make sure that her room had proper signage to indicate that she has Autism and the steps required to check on her.

I went to the locker room, showered, and changed before heading back to where I had been sleeping during the day. When I went in, I found the doctor sleeping soundly in the bed, so I took the chair. I awoke to find my scrub pants and boxer briefs down far enough to pull my dick out. I quickly felt a pair of lips gently kissing the head before giving me the most loving blowjob I have ever gotten. Whoever was sucking my dick was doing it because she wanted me to feel good. Why she was using her mouth to make love to my dick was beyond me, not that I was complaining.

“Good. You’re awake finally,” the doctor’s youngest sister said. “She can’t do this with you, to show you how much she appreciates you being there for her, but I can. Other than the three kiddie porn assholes, no one had been plugging my pussy, and we made sure they were always free of diseases before letting them inside any of us. If you are ok with me sliding that monster inside me, I would love to show you how much I appreciated you taking care of my big sister.”