Chapter100 Not a Hallucination
The emergency room corridor echoed with the rustle of fabric and a man's ragged breathing.
Clifton looked like a demon crawled straight from hell, covered in soot, his clothes charred beyond recognition.
"Doctor! Where's the doctor!"
His urgent shout startled the nurse at the station so badly she dropped her tray.
Several doctors came running with a gurney. Seeing the lifeless figure in Clifton's arms, their expressions changed dramatically.
"Quick! Get her to the ER! Prepare oxygen!"
Clifton laid Miranda on the gurney. In that instant, his hands were trembling.
Watching the emergency room doors slam shut in his face, the normally invincible man swayed, nearly collapsing to his knees.
"Sir, you..."
The ER doctor reached out to steady him, but the moment he touched Clifton's back, he gasped.
The once-crisp shirt was burned away, the fabric fused with raw, bloody flesh. There was even a nauseating smell of charred skin.
That was the result of taking a falling beam and licking flames to protect the person in his arms.
"My God! Sir, your injuries are severe. You need immediate treatment or you'll go into septic shock!" the doctor exclaimed.
But Clifton acted as if he felt no pain, his bloodshot eyes fixed on the lit emergency sign, his voice like swallowed gravel.
"Get lost. I'm not going anywhere."
He just stood there like a burned statue, radiating an aura that warned everyone away.
Just then, the emergency room door opened.
The attending physician came out, removing his mask.
Clifton lunged forward, grabbing the doctor by the collar with enough force to lift him off his feet.
"How is she? Talk!"
"Cough cough... sir, please calm down!" The doctor's face turned red. "The patient mainly suffered inhalation injury, plus unconsciousness from oxygen deprivation. Fortunately, we got to her in time. Her airway isn't severely burned. We've done nebulizer treatment and hyperbaric oxygen therapy. She's out of danger for now. She'll be fine once she wakes up."
Hearing "out of danger," the string that had been stretched to breaking point inside Clifton finally loosened.
The doctor looked at his gruesome back, frowning. "But you need immediate debridement and suturing for those burns, or complications will set in. If you collapse, who'll take care of the patient inside?"
Those words finally hit Clifton's weak spot.
He glanced at Miranda being wheeled out, that pale little face making his heart clench painfully.
"...Fine." He closed his eyes. "Treat me. Make it quick."
Time passed.
The scent of disinfectant lingered in her nostrils, no longer that suffocating smoke and burning smell.
Miranda struggled to open her eyes to a white ceiling.
She wasn't dead?
That was her first thought.
Miranda slowly sat up, looking around.
The hospital room was empty except for a humidifier puffing white mist at the bedside.
No one there.
Her heart felt inexplicably hollow.
So it really was a hallucination, wasn't it?
How could Clifton have suddenly appeared in that warehouse and rushed in to save her? He was still giving her the cold shoulder.
Miranda smiled self-mockingly. She tried to sit up fully but found her throat dry as if it would crack, burning painfully.
"Cough..."
She tried to call someone, but her voice came out like a broken bellows, hoarse and ugly.
She braced herself, trying to get out of bed for water.
Her limbs were still weak. The moment her feet touched the floor, her knees buckled and she started to fall.
Just then, the door opened.
A pair of strong hands steadied her elbow, pressing her firmly back onto the bed.
Miranda looked up in shock.
Their eyes met.
The air seemed to freeze in that instant.
The man standing before her wore clean hospital clothes, his hair still damp from a quick cleanup.
But even so, it couldn't hide his pallor or the exhaustion in his features.
Most striking were the bandages wrapped around his neck, extending deep beneath his collar.
Miranda's pupils contracted sharply.
It was real.
Not a hallucination.
His leap through the flames, his protective gesture when the beam fell, his whispered "don't sleep"... all of it was real.
Her eyes instantly stung. Miranda opened her mouth, her voice barely working. "Thank..."
"Don't talk yet."
Clifton cut her off, brow furrowed, seemingly displeased with her voice.
He walked to the table, poured a glass of warm water, tested the temperature, then brought it to her lips.
"Drink."
Simple and direct. No room for argument.
Miranda was desperately thirsty. She didn't make a fuss, just drank most of the glass from his hand.
The warm liquid sliding down her throat eased that tearing sensation somewhat.
After drinking, her mind cleared a bit. Suddenly remembering something, she grabbed Clifton's arm urgently.
"My mom... she's still in the ward upstairs... if I don't go back, she'll worry..."
She'd been missing for hours. Her mother must be frantic.
Clifton looked down at the hand gripping his arm.
"I already had someone inform her." Clifton's voice was low, carrying barely detectable hoarseness. "Told her you had an emergency company meeting."
Miranda froze.
She hadn't expected him to think of arranging all this so carefully at a time like this.
Her taut nerves finally relaxed. She released his arm, saying softly, "Thank you."
Clifton didn't respond, just pulled over a chair and sat by her bed.
But his sitting posture was stiff, back ramrod straight, not even leaning against the chair.
Miranda keenly noticed this detail, her gaze drifting involuntarily toward his back.
"Your back..."
"It's fine." Clifton coldly cut off her words.
The room fell silent again, only the humidifier's soft hissing.
The silence wasn't awkward, yet carried an ache that made her heart tremble.
After a long while, they both spoke simultaneously.
"You..."
"That day..."
Their voices collided, then both stopped.