Chapter Text
Her mouth felt dry, tacky. Lips like the slightly stuck together pages of an old book.
As her eyes adjusted to the dimly lit room and her awareness of her body–and all of its soreness and radiating pain— it occurred to her: she was in the hospital.
The last thing she remembered was headlights. Freezing. Her bike no longer beneath her.
Cold.
“You’re awake,” a man’s friendly voice chimed as a harsh fluorescent light flickered on above her head, making her squint and cringe.
“Where am I?” she murmured, lifting her leadened arm to find an IV tube taped to her skin.
“Chandrila Community Hospital. You arrived late last night,” he volunteered those precious pebbles of information as he filled the closet by the door with handfuls of gauze pads. “We see a lot of you bike delivery kids. Really lucky you were wearing a helmet.”
“Yeah, well, not my first rodeo,” she winced, trying to push herself upright. The sun was almost even with the tops of the nearby buildings. Early morning.
“Hey, hey, settle back,” he urged, taking a few steps toward the bed. “You’ve just suffered a major accident. Lay back down and I’ll get someone to come update you.”
“Aren’t you my doctor?” She asked tentatively, mentally calculating the absolute ass-ton of debt this was going to put her in unless she could apply for charity care like the last time she got sideswiped by a cab. This was much, much worse, she realized, as one of her legs was in a cast from the knee down.
“Nope, just an orderly. I’m here to get you whatever you need. Extra blankets, Jello cups. Just holler.”
As the sleepiness faded from her eyes, her vision cleared and she was able to fully observe the extremely tall, broad man in maroon scrubs who was approaching her bed. He grabbed the thickly wired remote with all the primary colored buttons and showed her how to call for help or change the ten whole channels on the tiny television mounted to the wall.
“Thanks, sir,” she offered a weak smile.
“Don’t think anything of it. And call me Ben. Someone should be in soon, so hang tight and get some rest, okay pretty bird?”
He winked.
It was charming in an offbeat kind of way that might actually be kinda creepy if he weren’t so unbelievably handsome.
He paused for a beat, his eyes roaming the length of her body, and before she could think of anything to say in return, he spun on his heel and left.
💊💊💊
Unpalatable food was delivered and she took small bites of what she could with her bruised hands. The doctor informed her that she’d fractured her shinbone, but would heal completely in a few weeks. She’d be discharged in a few days but they would keep her mostly sedated to help with the pain. The patient financial specialist came not long after to help her fill out the charity care application.
She laughed quietly to herself. It was practically a vacation.
Her phone had survived with only a few hairline cracks to the screen so she texted her boss, her coworker Kaydel to cover, and her roommates Rose and Finn.
And then, one tiny paper cup of little pills later, she blissfully slept.
💊💊💊
Rey didn’t always dream, except when she felt really lonely. When Rose and Armie double dated with Finn and Poe and she worked an extra shift instead. When she went to a coffee shop and no one asked to use the only available outlet she made sure to sit next to.
The sedatives brought her in and out, along with the routine vitals checks. Then, instead of sunshine, there were just little peeks of orange sulfur streetlights filtering in through the hospital standard beige blinds.
Waking and dreaming became a blur until she imagined she wasn’t alone anymore.
I’m here to get you whatever you need.
It was the second night, or was it? They’d removed the dreadful catheter and she’d made her first shaky, fawn-like journey toward the bathroom. The two nurses cheered and she felt embarrassed yet proud for such a pathetic achievement.
It had worn her out completely, and she fell asleep before they even could give her her next round of meds. A little pain could be tolerated, she mused. It reminded her she was still alive.
“Reduce her dose by half, discharge in forty-eight or less,” she briefly overheard the doctor tell the nurse as she drifted off.
When she dreamt, it was of that orderly. Brett? Ben? Dark tousled hair, a friendly crooked smile. He seemed like the type who might ask to use the only outlet next to her at the coffee shop. If she could be so lucky.
My name is Rey.
Rey. So pretty. Like a ray of sunshine.
He’d curl her hair behind her ear or wipe a bit of cold cream foam from her upper lip with his thumb. And why wouldn’t he kiss her? He’d know and she’d know that it was supposed to happen eventually anyway.
His lips would be warm and soft. His chuckle soft and deep. His quickening breaths floating across the delicate skin of her cheek.
Pretty eyes. Pretty face.
Pretty mouth.
Pretty, pretty bird.
Have another treat, pretty little bird.
A tiny piece of candy slipped past her lips and sealed with a soft kiss.
“Mmm,” she murmured, as the dream twisted and turned and morphed into the next thing she must really want.
Thank you, loneliness.
Stiff, starched fabric slipping off her shoulder. Her nipple surrounded by wet plush warmth and tender suction. Peaked and left to tighten and pebble in the chilled air.
Thick flannel blanket peeled back. A tender sigh. A breath of wonder.
Soft featherlight touch caressing her inner thighs.
Are you nice and wet for me my pretty little bird?
She licked her lips. It was so quiet. Some beeps from machines. The drip, drip, drip of saline.
She was dreaming. She could have him here. So why open her eyes? Why ruin it?
“Mmhm,” she whined delicately, letting her free, uninjured thigh fall slack against the sheets. Her gown was raised above her waist.
Wow. Look at you.
A finger gently unfurled her like the bud of a flower blooming in spring until warm nectar emerged. He spread it slow and steady like honey until she squirmed, pink lips parting as she exhaled her pleasure.
Is this all for me, pretty bird?
He inserted a wet thumb into her mouth and she sucked on it eagerly. A warm dry hand enclosed hers entirely and brought it to something hard yet soft, pliable and slightly wet. The hand led hers—stroking, squeezing.
Can you open your eyes, my little bird? So you can see what you do to me?
She shook her head.
No no no.
She knew how this worked. If she woke up in the dream she’d wake up in real life. Always during the best ones.
Arching her back as much as her limited mobility would allow, she canted her hips into his touch. Gasped as his fingers delved inside and his thumb caressed her swollen nub in confident circles. She reveled in the deep, needy groan she elicited from him.
Slick, humiliating sounds emerged from between her legs, soaking the sheets beneath her. His fingers filled her so nicely, places she could never reach on her own. His other hand squeezed hers tight and let her return the pleasure he so deserved for what he was doing to her.
Oh to move freely, to put her mouth on him, to fuck him, to be fucked.
Please little bird. Look at me. Open your eyes.
“Mm-s-so close,” she mewled, bucking her hips in tiny pathetic humps. “Please no I can’t. Please don’t stop.”
He let her take over, stroking his rigid cock, the way she knew he liked now and he gripped her chin forcefully between his thumb and forefinger. "Open your eyes."
His mouth closed over hers, as her eyes popped open, silencing her pleas and sending her over the edge.
Warm syrupy cum erupted over her fist as she too felt her own ecstasy wash over her battered body in delicious waves.
She’d been gripping the sheets beside her and finally released them, reaching up her free hand to card her fingers through the beautiful hair she remembered from their first meeting. It felt so soft and so real. His fingers were still buried in her throbbing pussy, his rapidly cooling cum seeped through her fist, and his slick, eager tongue explored her mouth.
When he pulled away, she knew the dream was over. But her eyes were still open and nothing had changed.
Ben.
He looked wrecked—formerly coiffed hair falling across his forehead, lips red and plump, scrubs rumpled and waistband askew as he stood up to right himself He reached to fasten the snaps of her gown at her shoulder before covering her with the blanket once more.
Without a word he paced to the sink in the corner of the room and ran a rough white towel under the faucet, returning to wipe her hand and the sheets of his misdeed.
“I-”
“Shh– it’s okay." He stroked her cheek tenderly and smiled. He looked pleased, and she couldn't help but feel proud. "You must be so tired. Get some sleep.”
“Ben?” She tried to sit up but her head spun and she fell backwards onto the bed again. Nothing felt real.
But this had happened before. Where she’d thought she'd woken up but she was still in the dream. She hadn’t taken any more sedatives but she’d been through a lot. Been so lonely.
Either way, it had been a good dream.
“I’m dreaming aren’t I?” she smiled wistfully, letting her head fall back on the pillow.
“No, little bird,” he smiled. “But I am.” He leaned over and kissed her on the forehead, tucking the sheets tighter around her.
“You’re funny,” she giggled. “I’m-I’m so sleepy.”
“Goodnight, my pretty little bird." He paused by the door as her lids fell, heavy again.
"Remember. I’m here to get you whatever you need."