Angel on a Mission

Chapter 29

Gabrielle's POV

I found myself staring intently at the plain, sterile wall in my hospital room, lost in thought.

It was yet another day spent within the clinical confines of the hospital, and the reality of my situation felt heavier with each passing hour.

This experience of isolation, of being cut off from the outside world, was one I had grown all too familiar with since my admission here; it felt like the nth time I had been enveloped by a sense of loneliness. Even though I had moments of connection with the staff and my friends, the pervasive feeling of separation still clung to me like a shadow.

Don’t misunderstand me—I deeply appreciate the people I interact with in this hospital. Their kindness, their warmth, and their genuine concern for my well-being truly mean a lot to me. However, with every smile exchanged and each conversation had, I can’t shake the feeling that there are countless responsibilities waiting for me beyond these walls. The weight of those unfinished duties feels like an anchor, holding me back as I lay in this hospital bed.

This situation has served as yet another lesson in caution for me, underscoring the delicate balance between my identity as an angel and the limitations of my human form—a body that remains vulnerable and flawed unless I tap into my special abilities. It was a bitter pill to swallow, and I certainly had to learn this lesson the hard way.

With a deep sigh, I reflected on my circumstances. My friends graciously visit or call me every day—gifts of laughter and love that remind me I’m not entirely alone. I am immensely thankful for their support during this challenging time. Yet, despite this kindness, I find myself yearning to escape this place and embark on other missions. There are lives to touch, communities to uplift, and promises I made to uphold.

I know that I have barely begun to recover, but time is of the essence, and I can’t afford to remain here much longer, grappling with everything that needs my attention back home. Disappointment in myself weighs heavily and manifests as an urgent need to make amends for my shortcomings as quickly as possible. That has become my primary goal now, an ever-evolving ambition that seems to grow with each tick of the clock.

As fate would have it, Alexander had just stepped outside to answer a call from his mother, leaving me alone in my bed with nothing but my thoughts. I gazed out the window, wishing I could be outside, feeling the sun on my skin and the breeze in my hair.

After a few moments of quiet contemplation, my reverie was interrupted by a soft knock on the door. When it opened, a doctor stepped in, greeting me with a warm, reassuring smile.

“Miss Martinez,” he said, and I felt a flicker of hope as I returned his smile.

“Good morning, Doctor. How have you been?” I asked politely, genuinely curious about his well-being.

Just then, Alexander reentered the room, positioning himself at my side, his presence grounding me as always.

“I’m doing well, thank you. I should be the one asking how you are feeling,” the doctor responded with a slight chuckle, a warmth in his eyes that lifted my spirits momentarily.

“I’m actually doing a lot better,” I replied, my enthusiasm creeping into my voice.

“Hmm, is that so? Let’s check on your progress,” he said, and I nodded eagerly, feeling a sense of anticipation.

The doctor carefully reached out to me, and Alexander moved a little closer, standing right beside us for support. His protective nature was palpable, and I couldn't help but feel grateful for his presence.

The doctor lifted the hem of my hospital gown to inspect the bandage on my wound, beginning to unwrap it gently. As he examined it, his brows furrowed with a mix of curiosity and concern.

“Oh, it does seem that you’re healing quite well. At this rate, I think you can be discharged this afternoon,” he announced, a note of surprise in his voice. I could hardly contain my excitement at the prospect of finally being free from this place.

“Still, you’ll need to continue taking your medication to prevent any infections. It’s crucial you remain diligent with your care,” the doctor reminded me seriously. I nodded enthusiastically, ready to comply with his instructions.

“Of course,” I responded, a determination settling in my heart.

“Are you certain she can be discharged today? She’s been shot, lost a lot of blood, and even flatlined. Can she really just go home a week after being confined?” Alexander interjected, his protectiveness shining through like a beacon.

“Rest assured, Miss Martinez is recovering exceptionally well, sir. I share your surprise, but her records indicate remarkable improvement, and her injury appears to be healing nicely. I have no reason to keep her here longer,” the doctor explained confidently, attempting to assuage Alexander’s worries.

Alexander glanced at me, and I met his gaze with pleading eyes. I longed for my freedom, for the chance to reclaim my life.

“I’m okay, Alex. Please, I really want to get back home. The doctor said I’m recovering well and can be discharged,” I pressed earnestly, my heart racing with hope.

Alexander sighed, clearly still torn between concern and the desire to support me.

“Are you absolutely sure she’ll be alright if she gets discharged today?” he pressed the doctor once more, his brow creased with worry.

“Yes, sir. If you’d like, we can perform additional tests with Miss Martinez’s permission to ensure everyone is satisfied with her condition,” the doctor suggested, accommodating Alexander’s apprehension.

Alexander nodded in acceptance of the proposal, though I could see the tension still lingering in his demeanor as he tried to balance the enormity of the situation.

The doctor proceeded to give me further instructions on post-care for my wound and what activities to avoid during my recovery.

“Thank you so much, Doctor. I’ll definitely keep all your reminders in mind,” I expressed my gratitude sincerely, feeling a sense of relief mingling with excitement.

The doctor smiled, nodding in return, his demeanor kind. “You’re welcome, Miss Martinez. I genuinely wish you a full and speedy recovery,” he said before stepping out of the room. Alexander followed him, still more concerned than relieved.

Alone now, I couldn’t help but smile widely and cheer quietly to myself. Finally! I could be discharged.

I closed my eyes, lifting my gaze toward the ceiling as if seeking divine approval.

“Thank you, God,” I muttered with a heartfelt smile, feeling an undeniable sense of gratitude. And thank you, Art, I thought quietly, acknowledging my friend’s unwavering support throughout this ordeal.

A few minutes later, Alexander returned to the room, and as soon as I saw him, I greeted him with a bright smile that spoke volumes.

“Well, you look happy,” he remarked, his tone both curious and slightly apprehensive.

“Of course, I’m happy! I finally get to return to the comfort of my own home,” I replied, my excitement spilling over like a waterfall.

For a moment, Alexander just looked at me, his expression contemplative, as though he were weighing the implications of my eagerness.

“Are you sure you’ll be able to take care of yourself once you’re back at your place?” he asked, a hint of concern in his voice. His protective instincts were apparent, and I appreciated him, even if it did come from a place of worry.

I nodded confidently, a radiant smile lighting up my face. “I’m going to be completely fine, I promise,” I assured him, injecting my voice with conviction.

He sighed, massaging the bridge of his nose as if wrestling with a decision that had no easy answer.

“Okay, fine,” he finally relented, though the concern still danced in his eyes like a protective guardian lingering just behind me.

Afterward, a few more tests were conducted, and when the results arrived, I was triumphed with a clean bill of health—cleared for discharge!

Art had also arrived shortly before; he was busy tending to my hospital documentation while Alexander stayed close by my side, clearly not ready to relinquish his role as my protector just yet.

Quietly seated on the couch beside my hospital bed, Alexander seemed lost in thought, as if he were processing everything that had transpired over the past few days, perhaps even the weeks leading up to this moment.

“Are you okay?” I ventured to ask him, genuinely concerned by his demeanor.

He nodded absently, but I could see that his response was automatic rather than heartfelt.

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?” he retorted, a hint of defensiveness creeping into his voice, which I suspected was more a reflex than a genuine sentiment.

I shrugged, feeling a need to understand the thoughts swirling behind his eyes. “Nothing, really. I just wanted to check in because you don’t seem particularly happy, but I could be wrong,” I replied, gauging his mood, hoping to break through whatever wall he had erected.

Alexander stared at me for a moment, as if searching for the right words. The silence hung between us like a taut string, and I felt compelled to bridge the gap.

“What are you thinking?” I blurted out, curious and concerned.

He suddenly averted his gaze, swallowing hard as if he were grappling with thoughts that felt too vulnerable to voice.

“Nothing,” he said, but I sensed there was more beneath the surface—a culmination of emotions and worries that he was struggling to articulate.

Hmm…

A few minutes later, Art returned, accompanied by a nurse who was carrying a clipboard and wearing a professional smile that seemed almost routine.

“I settled the hospital bill. They’re going to take out your IV now so you can be discharged,” Art informed me, glancing at the nurse, who nodded in acknowledgment. I nodded back in understanding, moving myself to the edge of the bed for easier access.

Once again, Alexander immediately came to my side, offering his support as he assisted me in shifting my position.

“Thanks,” I murmured appreciatively, feeling the steadfastness of his presence grounding me in this moment. He simply nodded, but I noticed he was still avoiding direct eye contact, as if he were wrestling with thoughts too complex to voice aloud.

I caught Art watching us, an expression of amusement playing across his face, yet he held his thoughts to himself.

The nurse began to prepare for the removal of my IV fluids, her movements careful and precise, entirely focused on her task.

“Be careful,” Alexander reminded the nurse gently, his concern evident in his tone.

The nurse nodded in response to his protective nature and proceeded with an increased deliberateness as she skillfully detached the IV from my arm, her touch gentle and reassuring.

Once that task was completed, the nurse also cleaned and rewrapped my wound with care—yet another reminder that I was on the road to recovery, inching closer to normalcy with each passing moment.

“Thank you so much,” I expressed sincerely to the nurse, feeling utterly grateful for her attentiveness.

“You’re welcome, miss. I hope you recover swiftly,” she replied with a cheerful smile, bidding her farewells as she stepped out of the room.

“Thank you,” Art echoed, graciously holding the door open for her as she left, giving me a moment to bask in my triumph of getting closer to freedom.

Turning my head, I looked back at Alexander, who remained beside me, radiating concern. A wide smile broke across my face, a bright beacon of joy in the otherwise clinical setting.

He chuckled softly in response, a lightness returning to the atmosphere.

“You’re that happy, huh?” he remarked, shaking his head as if bewildered by my infectious enthusiasm.

“I truly am,” I affirmed, unable to hide my excitement and the bubbling joy within me.

Alexander shook his head in disbelief, a smile tugging at his lips as he chuckled at my exuberance.

“Gabrielle,” Art called—his voice cutting through our moment, drawing my attention back to him as he stood near the door.

“You should get changed. Do you have a change of clothes, or should I get you some?” he asked, his concern for my comfort evident as he scanned the room.

I shook my head emphatically, more than ready to take action. “I have some. Alexander actually brought me some clothes, so I’m going to use those,” I explained, eager to transition from patient back to my former self.

Art nodded in approval. “Okay, then. Go ahead and get changed. I’ll drop you off at your place before I move on to my next agenda for the day,” he said, a sense of urgency in his tone that made me feel all the more determined.

“Okay,” I replied obediently, invigorating my spirit as I swung my legs over the side of the bed. Alexander reached out once again, assisting me as he always did, an unwavering pillar of support.

As he looked at Art, he added, “Elle hasn’t had lunch yet. If you’re in a hurry, I can take her. We’ll grab lunch and I’ll drop her off at her place. She needs to eat before taking her medication.”

Art regarded him thoughtfully for a moment, weighing the pros and cons of the situation, clearly trying to gauge the best course of action.

“Hmm. Is that so?” Art replied with a small smile, glancing between Alexander and me, his expression shifting.

“Oh yeah. I haven’t had lunch yet, and I definitely need to take my medication soon,” I said, realizing the necessity that had eluded my mind in my excitement.

Art nodded in understanding, a look of relief washing over him as if he were grateful for the solution that had presented itself.

“In that case, if you wouldn’t mind, it would be absolutely wonderful if you could take Gabrielle,” he said to Alexander, giving his blessing for the plan to unfold.

Alexander simply nodded, embodying his role as my guardian in this moment as he guided me toward the restroom while retrieving the paper bag of clothes he’d brought for me.

Once I entered the restroom, I changed carefully, feeling a sense of excitement at the thought of finally leaving the hospital behind me.

Inside, Alexander had brought me a lovely white puff-sleeve ribbon-tie front blouse, along with light denim blue loose trousers and a pair of white open-toe flat sandals. Each piece felt like a token of my return to life—a life filled with vibrancy and purpose.

After changing, I washed my face and brushed my hair with the supplies Bella had generously provided me days prior. As I gazed at my reflection in the mirror, I noted how pale I looked from the lack of sunlight over the past week. Yet, I could see that I appeared much better compared to the lifeless state I was in on the first day I woke up in this hospital.

I smiled at my reflection, feeling grateful for the simple fact that I was alive. I am just happy to have survived this ordeal, and I knew that I was ready for the challenges that lay ahead.

Finally, I would soon return to my real job, ready to embark on my missions in this world once more—a world that awaited my return, and I couldn’t wait to dive back in with both feet.