Rendering Flames

It was a long night. I couldn’t get to sleep, I was restless. Every fiber in my body was on a shooting spree. I was hallucinating, hearing things. It was a tug and war game. Only Orson would be able to try and tell them that I’m really okay but when he talked to Peter, it wasn’t him that came in. It was Constantine. Talking to me about his daughter but then blood started to drip from his mouth and a bullet hole where he was shot revealed itself and started spewing and then he started waning. There was only one second that I thought it was real until Orson came streaking into the room to see what I was crying about. I looked back over and Constantine was gone. I started to become mentally catatonic and Orson called for help.

Peter came in with a few injections and I struggled against him. I was feeling more delirious by the second and felt a stab in my arm. I looked and saw small knives. I screamed when Peter stabbed me once and then twice. Orson held me down though, not helping me and I looked over in horror as I saw Peter stab my arm again and again. Blood was dripping off my fingers and I began to feel very tired.

Peter hovered over me and I felt calm all of a sudden. “Dahlia, just relax.”

“You stabbed me. What the hell is wrong with you? You’re against me,” I struggled against Orson strong grasp.

“He gave you a small dose of ketamine to help you sleep and some morphine for the pain. Dahlia,” Orson turned my crazed eye to him. His eyes were all white and I struggled to keep a mind that it was him. “Remember where you are. Look at your arm.”

I looked down and saw the blood was gone and my skin was clear. My vision was blurry and the air swimmed around me in a mist. I grew weak and reached for help, for something before I passed out.

“Dahlia?” A voice coaxed me out of my sleep, “can you hear me?”

I groaned as I woke up, feeling the intense ache and sharp rooted pain in my abdomen. I felt hot but goosebumps rose after one another on my skin. I could feel that something wasn’t right. I was in a sweat and I felt some pressure going against my stab wounds.

“What happened?” I looked around it was dark outside, rain pelting against the window.
“Peter is going to clean and repack your deep wound. We can’t have them getting infected.” My head swept to the side as I squeezed my eyes shut tighter, not feeling any comfort of Orson being at my side.

“I’ll need you to keep still, Dahlia. It’s going to hurt but I’m afraid our resources are going to limited if this becomes infected.” Peter tugged at the used packing material. The pain was searing.

“Stop,” I pled.

“It’ll be okay, Dahlia.” Orson took my hand, “just try and relax.”

I tried to do as he said but in the next second I felt the rest of the material be removed but a small feeling of something else going with it. And then there was just warmth and a terrible throbbing.

“Shit.” Peter’s voice was panicked as I snapped my eyes open, yelping as he pressed roughly down on my hemorrhaging wound.

“What did you do!” I shouted at him, tossing my head back in pain and lightheadedness.

“She has a ruptured vein,” Peter stressed. “Orson go get a few shots of morphine and a shit ton of gauze and packing material. Also get an ice pack and a wet cloth.”

Orson just stood there, staring with wide eyes at the blood streaming steadily from my body. “Orson, go!”

He snapped back into it as I yelled at him, running from the room as I shut my eyes. “I’m so sorry, Dahlia. I was careful but I must of disturbed a clot and then it suddenly--oh god.”

“Let me die and I will come back and take you with me, Peter.” My warning was empty and weak as he just kept pressing and replacing the bloody bandages.

I heard several footsteps as Orson came flying back in the room with packing material. I saw Luke carrying the ice pack and cloths. A few others came in to see what all the commotion was about but they panicked as soon as they saw what was happening, some leaving because of the blood.

“Someone take over with this,” Peter ordered, moving aside for Luke to step in. “We’ll get the morphine in you, Dahlia. This should help some, okay?”

I couldn’t respond as my head pulsated and sweat slicked my skin. I didn’t know how much blood I was losing but I was definitely feeling it.

“Peter? What is going on? Who is this?” I heard someone else come in to the room and I thought I must be worse than I thought because the voice and person couldn’t be here, there was no way.

“The girl I told you about. She’s hemorrhaging. Help me pack the wound.” I gazed over, watching him weave around Luke, Devon, and Quinn who were waiting to help in any way they could at my bedside.

“This isn’t real,” my voice shook and cracked. “None of this is real.”

Orson moved to the side and I saw him. His hair was longer and he had an unkempt scruff on his face. He wasn’t as lean looking anymore, there was more muscle and a look of wariness to his body. He looked like he had been through a few ringers, that he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. He didn’t look up to see me until he was in the thick of everything and I saw his same green eyes widen like they were seeing someone that had risen from the dead.

“Jaden.” My breath caught in my throat. I was barely hanging on.

“Jaden? Who’s Jaden?” Peter looked around before he saw him standing there frozen, like a deer caught in the headlights.

My eyes fluttered and I felt my eyes roll into the back of my head. I tried to keep them open, watching Orson and Peter apply pressure to my abdomen. Jaden looked down at the mess and I saw his hands start to shake. Peter looked up to him and said something I didn’t catch but after he said it Jaden came to life and took Peter’s place as he came over and pumped more morphine in me and then a familiar looking injections that had my eyes dragging shut even before it touched my veins.

“I won’t let you die. I promise, Dahlia.” Peter told me with determination and I looked to him.

“I’m scared.” I whispered the lagging words.

“Keep your eyes open.” Orson ordered me, letting Peter come back into his place as he knelt down beside me. “We have things we need to talk about and people we need to eventually get back to.”

“The ketamine is going to knock her out, Orson. Let her go.” Peter’s voice was oddly flat and I saw that it was only him keeping pressure on my wound. The bleeding had finally slowed dramatically.

Orson sat down on the floor then, leaning against the wall as I looked at my blood that stained his hands. I felt someone grip my hand I took a deep breath, seeing Jaden looking down at me with an indescribable look. He said something but I was always gone.