This is the first story I've ever posted here, so I hope it's up to scratch. It's a relatively short one I've been developing, just to sort of test the waters, so I hope you all like it!
ps: I apologize for the picture size, they'll be a little bigger in the next chapter, I just haven't had time to edit them yet.

EDIT: so at first, I was going to include Oliver and Elizabeth in another, separate story, but upon further reflection, I decided to use them as a stepping stone.Welcome to truth and Recovery, those of you who have already read Denial, as this used to be called. And to those of you who haven't, welcome to whatever this is that I'm doing, thanks for reading, etc. etc.

The hospital was almost silent at two o clock in the morning.
The secretary, sitting quietly at her desk, was struggling to keep her eyes open, as were the three people still waiting to be seen.


One of the three people sitting in the darkened waiting room stirred slightly, easing the pressure on her elbow. Her name was Elizabeth Walker.
She wore simple clothes with designer labels, though the way they hung on her slender frame suggested that she had thrown them on in a hurry.
Her hair was long and wavy, let down intentionally to keep her face covered.
Elizabeth was there for the usual reason.
Midnight was such an inconvenient time. It was so sudden...She suppressed the anxious wave of nausea that always came with hospital visits and squeezed her eyes shut. Feigning sleep was the easiest way she knew of to hide her face.
It wasn't too bad today, but you never knew what might spark curiosity. Or worse, pitying looks.
She hated those. People always seemed to think they knew what was going on in her life.
As if they knew the first thing about her. Gradually, the nausea faded and she relaxed slightly.

So far there were no pitying looks, but there was curiosity from the man sitting rather close to her in the waiting room. His name was Oliver Grant. He sat uncomfortably in his chair, fidgeting slightly every time there was a sound. He was wearing quite casual clothing, having dressed without paying much attention. His eyes moved rapidly around the waiting room, often coming to rest on the young woman next to him.
Oliver was in the hospital waiting for news about his mother, who would be here on and off for a month. She had just received hip replacement surgery, and he had agreed to spend the night with her once a week. He hadn't been able to sleep that night though, so had come down and, out of pure boredom, was trying to figure out what was wrong with the various people in the waiting room. There was something other than boredom keeping him up however. He was worried. Oliver was, as a rule, uncomfortable with silence. The cavernous space of the hospital intensified his discomfort. Finally, he cleared his throat softly.
"What are you in for?" The question was directed to the girl sitting near him. He couldn't see her face.

Elizabeth lifted her head.
"Who, me?" She noticed that he didn't recoil when he saw the bruises. That was good. Now, she had to give her fabricated excuse.
"Oh, I just fell down the stairs on my way up to bed. Nothing serious, but I think I might have fractured my wrist, so I came in for some x-rays."

He was nice about her "accident", but she was still glad when a nurse interrupted the uncomfortable chat that followed.
"Elizabeth Brown? Come on through please." She had the wrong last name, or course. Elizabeth stood, wincing slightly and gave Oliver a parting nod.
"I hope your mother's all right." He gave her an odd look.
"I hope you're all right."
Elizabeth froze. He knew -or had somehow guessed- more than he was letting on. I better not see him again She frowned slightly and followed the nurse into a room that had become quite familiar to her by then.


"Now then dear, make yourself comfortable and draw the curtain around you. We're doing your wrist, correct?" She washed her hands in that busy manner that nurses always seemed to have, then directed Elizabeth to hold her hand off to the side and position it on the bed in a comfortable position. She had already done so; Elizabeth was quite experience with these things.
"What happened?" This question was also repeated quite a lot.
"Well, I fell down the stairs...just a clumsy accident." The nurse paused.
"Really? Hmmm."

Elizabeth tensed with sudden alarm. That had never happened before. She tried to peer through the curtain to see the nurse, but her face wasn't visible.
"I...don't know what you mean." The nurse smiled, trying to be reassuring though she knew the patient couldn't see her.
"Hold still for one moment...there. We nurses do talk to each other you know. I happen to know that you've been in twice already this month, both times with bruises on your face. Have you fallen down the stairs that often?" Elizabeth tried very hard to keep her expression neutral.
"I'm clumsy. Terribly sorry to have inconvenienced your staff, of course." Her mind raced as she tried to think of a viable thing to say that would get the nurse our of her business.
"I should warn you though, I may be filing a complaint with the hospital for violation of patient confidentiality. That is, if you would be so kind as to give me the name of the nurse who told you?"

Mary had worked at the hospital for two years and never had a patient who had said something like that. She didn't want to lose her job, so though the reply had offended her slightly, she replied politely.
"My apologies. I didn't intend to interfere, I just need to know exactly how you injured yourself to provide and accurate diagnosis." She busied herself with the x-rays. Elizabeth gradually relaxed. As it turned out, her wrist wasn't fractured, just badly sprained. But the nurse handed her over to a doctor anyway, to check whether she needed stitches in her cheek.

The doctor didn't pry at all as he examined her face, just examined her gently.
"Well, I don't see any heavy bleeding, but I would like to ask you some questions, just to be sure." She nodded, feeling slightly dizzy.
"Do you feel any nausea?" Elizabeth had in fact felt nauseous sitting in the waiting room, but she had assumed it was out of nerves.
"Well, yes." His following questions were about dizziness, shortness of breath, and vomiting. When he learned that she had had all save vomiting, he admitted her to the hospital overnight for a mild concussion.

That night, Elizabeth slept fitfully for a few hours and awoke to a throbbing pain in her head and a nurse taking her blood pressure. She would be released at noon, but until then she was given a book to read. She had just started the first chapter when there was a gentle knock on her door. It was Oliver.


"Hey. I uh...heard you had to stay over night, so I figured I'd pop in to visit. Mom still isn't awake, so."
Elizabeth was still wary of him, but she appreciated the idea of some company. She heard suppressed anxiety in his voice and closed her book with a snap.
"Thanks for coming. Is that...is it bad?" He rubbed his temples with his fingertips.
"They won't tell me. As far as I can tell, it's not bad, but it's not normal. It bothers me." She looked at him, smiling slightly.
"I'm sure she's fine Oliver." For the next twenty minutes, they talked easily. Elizabeth was quite enjoying his company, despite her expectations. She couldn't remember having been able to talk to anyone as easily as she did now. Not that they discussed anything in particular. Things like books, hobbies, schools, and jobs passed between them. Eventually, Oliver checked his watch and stood.
"Hey, I'd better go check on my mom now. Uh...this has been nice. Maybe...we could go for coffee or something when you get out of here?" She had just opened her mouth to answer when they both heard the door open and shut.

Oliver turned to see a handsome blond guy standing in the doorway. His first impression was of power. Whoever this guy was, he probably had a lot of clout somewhere. His second impression was of cold blue eyes and features that would probably get him any girl he wanted. Elizabeth didn't seem to agree with his conclusion. Her eyes had suddenly gotten large and her pupils dilated, like those of a small animal in a trap. The man spoke softly.
"I hope I haven't interrupted anything, Lizzy."

Elizabeth swallowed, and looked at Oliver.
"Oliver, this is my husband, Peter. Peter, I just met Oliver last night. His mom's here and he was bored so he's been keeping me company."
Oliver gave Elizabeth a sharp look. Her voice was quite different than it had been before. It had acquired a sharp, brittle quality. He shook hands with Peter, who crushed him in an iron grip.
"Glad to see you've been keeping her company. She's so clumsy some times, aren't you Lizzy?" Elizabeth smiled automatically, inwardly hoping Oliver would leave soon.
"Yeah. Um. I'll see you around Oliver." He had already headed towards the door, but he turned briefly to look from her to Peter and back again.
"Yeah. See you."

The moment the door closed behind him, Peter strode over to her bed and put his face close to hers.
"Glad to see you've been making friends, but don't overdo it okay? I don't want snoops." She didn't dare look at him as she replied.
"I just met him today. I won't contact him again, all right?" Peter smiled.
"You can contact him again. He seems like an okay guy. It could help show people how friendly we are. In fact, why don't you invite him to my business party next Saturday? Your face should be fine by then, right?" She nodded, still not looking at him. This was bad. Oliver didn't need to be mixed up with Pete. It would just lead him to trouble.
"I'll invite him then." Not good not good not good. Those two words repeated themselves in her head long after she got home that day.