My Past Life – Part 28.
The Hospital – Peter's Room.
The sterile white walls of the hospital room were bathed in the dim glow of the evening light filtering through the half-closed blinds. The rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor filled the silence, a steady reminder of life clinging on.
Joy lay beside Peter, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her breath heavy and uneven. A thin sheen of sweat glistened on her skin as she turned her head slightly to look at him.
"Hah… Hm… Hm…" she panted, a small, exhausted smile playing on her lips. "It's always a new experience with you… Every time we… fuck… it's like I'm discovering something different."
Peter chuckled, his voice low and rough from exertion. He reached out, brushing a strand of damp hair from her forehead before leaning in to press a soft kiss against her lips.
"You're one to talk," he murmured against her mouth. "You're the one who keeps surprising me with new… styles. That was… incredible."
They lay there for a moment, tangled in each other's warmth, the thin hospital blanket draped loosely over their naked bodies. The world outside this room didn't exist—just the two of them, lost in the aftermath of their passion.
But then, Joy shifted.
She sat up slowly, turning her back to Peter as she swung her legs over the edge of the bed. Her shoulders were tense, her fingers gripping the blanket tightly.
"I… I have something to tell you," she said, her voice suddenly distant.
Peter frowned, pushing himself up onto his elbows. "What's wrong?"
Joy didn't answer right away. Instead, she stood, her bare feet touching the cold hospital floor as she reached for her discarded clothes.
"We won babe" Peter said, his tone hollow. "Scorpio is dead. Joe is dead. And Sarah…"
Peter paused a little then he continued.
"Sarah betrayed me," he finished quietly. "But… I don't hold it against her. Still… you don't have to worry about anything, babe. We are safe"
A sharp, mocking laugh escaped Joy's lips. She shook her head, pulling her shirt over her shoulders with quick, almost angry movements.
"Babe?" Peter's voice was laced with confusion. He sat up fully now, watching as she dressed with hurried precision. "What's the problem? Did I say something wrong? I'm sorry if—"
"You were unconscious for two weeks, Peter," Joy interrupted, her voice flat. She finally turned to face him, but her eyes remained downcast, fixed on the floor. "Your parents have been visiting every day since we brought you here. You don't know… what's happened in that time."
Peter's expression darkened. "Damn… I didn't realize. I really pushed myself too far this time." He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling slowly. "So… what's changed?"
Joy finally looked up, her eyes meeting his—but there was something unreadable in her gaze. Something heavy.
"A lot," she whispered. "And some of it… will shock you."
Peter's jaw tightened. He leaned forward, his voice dropping to a low, serious tone.
"Tell me everything, Jolie."
Joy hesitated, then sat back down on the edge of the bed, her fingers twisting nervously in her lap.
"Joe… didn't die," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "He's alive. Still in a coma, but… alive."
"It was a miracle," Joy continued, her voice trembling slightly. "When we brought him to the hospital… he was dead. No pulse, no breath—nothing. But then… a few hours later… his heart started again. The doctors have no explanation."
She swallowed hard, still refusing to meet Peter's eyes.
"He's badly hurt, though. Broken ribs, shattered bones… he won't recover easily. If… if he ever wakes up at all."
Well, that's good news for both him and Sarah," Peter said, his voice steady but warm. "And besides, we've both settled our differences. So, is this what you wanted to tell me, or is there more?"
He was still seated on the edge of the bed, his fingers absently tracing the stiff hospital sheets. Joy stood a few feet away, her posture tense, as if she were holding something back.
For a moment, she didn't answer. Then, finally, she met his gaze.
"No, it's not," Joy said, her voice low but firm. "Scorpio is alive."
Peter's breath caught in his throat. His body went rigid, his muscles locking in disbelief.
"What?!" he exclaimed, shooting up from the bed so fast that the mattress bounced beneath him. His hands shot out, gripping Joy's wrist tightly, his fingers pressing into her skin as if he needed to anchor himself to reality. "That's impossible! I saw you shoot him in the head. I saw the bullets go straight into his skull!"
Joy didn't flinch, but her eyes darkened with something unreadable—regret, maybe, or determination.
"I don't know how," she admitted, "but he's alive. Not fully recovered, not a hundred percent, but he's out there. Hiding. And I'm going to find him. I'm going to end this."
With that, she gently pulled her hand free from Peter's grip, her touch lingering for just a second before she let go completely.
Peter's mind raced. Scorpio—alive? After everything? After the blood, the gunshots, the certainty of death? His chest tightened with a mix of anger and fear.
"What do you mean, you'll find him?" he demanded, stepping closer.
Joy's expression hardened. "The organization never asked me to kill anyone. It was all Scorpio's doing. He hates me. He still thinks I'm the reason Barry died." She took a slow breath, her voice dropping to a whisper. "So I'm going to find him. And when I do, I'll end this. And then… you'll never see me again."
She turned toward the door, her movements deliberate, as if she had already made up her mind.
Peter's heart pounded. No. No, he couldn't let her walk away—not like this. Not into danger alone.
"And do you think I'm gonna let you do that?" he growled.
Before Joy could react, Peter grabbed her arm and spun her around, slamming her back against the nearest wall. His hands pressed against the surface on either side of her head, caging her in. His body trembled—not with anger, but with desperation.
Joy's eyes widened in shock. "What are you doing, Peter? Let me go!" She pushed against his chest, but he didn't budge.
"I love you, Joy," he said, his voice breaking. Tears welled in his eyes, blurring his vision. "Please… just wait. Let me recover, and we can go after him together. We can end this—together."
For a heartbeat, Joy's resolve seemed to waver. Her lips parted, and for the first time, Peter saw the pain in her expression—raw and unguarded.
"I love you too," she whispered. "But you have your whole life ahead of you. I can't—I won't—put you in danger again. I'm sorry, Peter… but this is the last time you'll ever see me."
Before he could protest, before he could even blink, Joy's hand darted into her pocket. A sharp sting pierced his neck.
"Again… I'm really a dumb shit," Peter muttered, his limbs suddenly heavy. His knees buckled, and he collapsed to the floor, his body refusing to obey him.
Joy knelt beside him, her fingers brushing his cheek. "I'm sorry, Peter," she said softly. "This hurts me too. But this time… let me protect you."
Then she stood, turning away without another word.
"Joy!" Peter's voice was hoarse, his throat tightening as the drug took hold. "Joy! Joy!!"
She didn't look back.
The door clicked shut behind her.
And just like that… she was gone.
Peter's screams echoed through the room, raw and desperate. "Joy!!! Joy!!!! JOY!!!!!"
The nurses rushed in, their faces alarmed. They lifted him from the floor, their hands gentle but firm as they placed him back on the bed. One of them pressed a needle into his arm.
The world grew hazy.
"Joy…" His voice was fading now, his vision darkening at the edges. "Joy… Joy…"
The last thing he saw before the darkness swallowed him was the empty doorway.
And the ghost of her name on his lips.
To be continued…