Defector

He's still. Peaceful. Limp. Lifeless.

They drugged him up and he's been out cold for two days. His eye still swollen and bruised from her fists. His thigh, stitched up and bandaged, is elevated by flattening pillows. He's motionless excluding the gentle rise and fall of his chest signifying he made it through this torture. He's alive, but at what cost? No doubt this trauma may regress the progress he's made over the years bringing him back to the careless, quiet attitude he used to have back before I knew him.

Casandra has to know he's gone by now. She wouldn't leave him dying in the basement. Elle said herself she wouldn't kill him, but left a knife buried in his thigh allowing him to lose blood at a slow rate, but still nonetheless lose blood. How long would she have left him there before seeking medical help for him? Or maybe she knew I'd come for him. Even so, why not storm the hospital looking for him? My hands and legs shake with anticipation and fear waiting for something to happen.

I haven't slept.

Due to recent events involving Casandra, Neuman, and now Ernest, I keep a watchful eye on him, the room, and the hall making sure no one suspicious passes. No way will I allow anyone to take him again. Not while I still live and breathe, leaving me with the conclusion I've always come back to over the years. She has to die. Neither one of us can live in peace not while the other one lives. An elongated fight dragging more and more people into our crossfire hoping to win the prize; Logan.

Poor, sweet, unconscious Logan.

I stare with admiration from across the room still anxious to get close to him. I listen to the rhythmic sound of his heart on the monitor followed by a puff of air which enters into the nasal cannula wrapped along his face. I watch the clear liquid drip from his IV bag still unsure of what they're pumping into his system. I don't ask. I'm lucky they even allow me to stay in the room with him and not force me out seeing as though I'm not immediate family. Several staff members suggested I take a break, but I refused to leave his side.

A knock on the door startles me to my feet. I stand between Logan and the door in a defensive position ready for anyone who walks through that door. She peaks her head in slowly, unsure if she wants to enter to begin with. She makes eye contact with me before letting herself in and closing the door behind her. She may be his mother, but I still don't trust her completely.

"How is he?" She asks. I fold my arms across my front.

"Alive," I pause, "barely. You said she wouldn't kill him."

"She didn't." Elle peaks over my shoulder to get a good look at him. I slide over blocking her view. "He's my son." She enunciates each word.

"Where have you been for the past thirteen years when he could've used you? You know he lived in a shelter just so he didn't have to be around that monster you called a husband."

"Hey!" She barks. "I loved Nolan. You have no right bringing him into this."

"I have every right. The man tried to kill me." I hiss.

"I might try to kill you if you don't let me see my son."

"Mom?"

The room falls silent as we're both stunned by the hoarse voice coming from behind me. I whip around as his eyes are closed, but he's stirring. Elle rushes over pushing me aside to tend to her son. His one eye flutters open while the other seems pasted shut by his swollen flesh. He stares up at her witnessing his mother for the first time in over a decade. She smiles and reaches for his hand to grasp in hers. He studies her face before his gaze is drawn to me. A smile forms on his lips as his eye closes to match it's mate.

"Phoe," my name exiting from his smiling mouth, "I love you." The words tumble from his falling lips as he slips under once again.

I gasp to myself as we've never exchanged those words to each other. It has to be the drugs, no other explanation. Logan doesn't throw the word love around. Elle releases his hand and takes a few steps away from him. She glances in my direction appearing angry, but also disappointed. She asks me to notify her if his condition changes as she shows herself out.

I pull up a chair directly next to him and grab a hold of his hand and lean down resting my head on his hip. The white noise hospital sounds lull me into a sudden sleep.

I'm unaware of how much time has passed when I force myself awake. I sit up feeling a crick in my neck which I attempt to work out with my free hand as my other is still held captive by Logan's. He gives my hand a squeeze drawing my attention to his face where his eyes, yes both, are open. The swelling has gone down, but he still can't open his eye the whole way. I give him a smile and kiss the back of his hand.

"Welcome back." I let a breathy laugh exhale.

"I'm still groggy." He says resting his head back, but attempts to keep eye contact.

"They're pumping you with something. I don't know what." I admit.

He stares at me for a few seconds, speechless. He looks away as though he's trying to remember what happened. He takes in the room while he scrunches his face appearing unsure of where he is. His eyes appear heavy after studying the room. He takes one last look at me before his eyes flutter close.

I give his hand a good squeeze before I rise up, stretching my stiff legs and sore back. A knock echoes into the room from the closed door behind me. I whip around and am startled when James Ernest, himself, enters nonchalantly. He greets me with a stunning, straight smile and friendly hello. He floats around the room with high confidence and holds a posture of some with high authority. I fold my arms across my chest hoping he leaves as quickly as he came.

"Wow," he finally exclaims examining the unconscious man between us, "she really did a number on him." He points to his bruised face. "I guess it was that bad of a breakup." He releases a hearty chuckle which fills the room. He looks to me expecting an equally loud laugh, but is left disappointed. He sucks in the last bits of his laugh, rolling his eyes. "Ms. Detope, I think it's time for you to return to our headquarters." He stiffens even straighter which I didn't think was possible. "We have much to discuss with you about your future."

"My future? I didn't realize I had a future with you."

"Ms. Detope, this mission is far from over. I'd rather discuss the details in a much," he pauses, "safer environment."

"Safe for me or safe for you?" I question with an eyebrow raise. "No big, scary body guard here to keep you safe from someone like me." He clears his throat.

"Not safe for the conversation we will have." He takes a step closer to Logan's sleeping body. "I admire your dedication to this man," he looks to me, "but you're needed elsewhere. So if you'd be so kind as --"

"No." I cut him off.

"Ms. Detope." He sighs slumping his shoulders forward.

"Mr. Ernest."

"I really don't have time for this." He grumbles.

In a fluid motion, faster than I've ever seen him move, he pulls out a switchblade from his pocket and holds it close to Logan's throat. The blade isn't anywhere near his skin, but the threat is evident. I step closer, moving in to defend him, but the closer I get so does he.

"Elle would kill you if you hurt him." I comment knowing he won't actually harm him. He's getting a rise out of me and it's working.

"Ms. Detope, you would kill me right here in this room if I harmed him."

"Then what's your angle?"

"You need to understand your actions have consequences. You refuse an order, someone may end up hurt."

"What makes you think I would even take orders from you?"

"You already have." He points out inching closer. "Just," he lets out an exasperated sigh, "come with me. I promise Mr. Fierce will be safe."

I hold eye contact with him for several seconds before stepping back. Ernest appreciates the action and withdraws his threat, moving away from Logan.

I motion him toward the door. His cheery smiles returns which only adds fuel to my hatred for him. I follow directly behind him swiping his blade from his pocket and slamming the door closed immediately after he opened it. He quickly turns to see me on his heels. I open his switchblade and hold it as close as he held it to Logan's throat. I see his Adam's apple move as he swallows hard. I smirk at his fear.

"If any harm comes to him or if he is taken from this facility by anyone who works for Casandra, I will kill you." I move the blade closer. "This is how you make a proper threat." I scowl, closing the blade and handing it back to him. I open the door and lead the way out of the room.