Leave Me Alone
“You know, your hair looks fantastic when you let it down like that,” York said, leaning against the wall.
“Shut up,” Carolina said, refusing to look at him. She lay in the hospital bed, staring at the ceiling, trying not to think about just how empty her head felt without Epsilon.
“Aw, c’mon Lina. It was a compliment. The least you could do is say ‘thank you’.” York slipped into the seat next to her bed.
She knew it wasn’t real; York had been dead for nine years now. But Grey had insisted that she needed to be sedated, and hadn’t listened when Carolina had tried to tell her that was a bad idea, tried to tell her that she could handle the pain.
He was back again.
He was out of armor, the blood from the bullet wound in his chest bright crimson against the white t-shirt he wore. She knew the exact location of the wound from the reports Wash had filed. She’d read all of them.
“Go away,” she whispered, closing her eyes. But that just made it worse, as her mind continued to fill the gaps. His voice was stronger than ever.
“Come on, Carolina,” he wheedled, grinning at her. “Don’t let them get you down. You’re stronger than that.” He began to hum a painfully familiar tune.
“Just leave me alone!” She screamed, throwing her fist towards the hallucination.
Her punch wen through thin air, and she had her wish.