Every Rose Has It's Thorn [PAFP]

He gently rubbed her back in attempts to calm her, "Shhh... I'm here now" He said softly, gently humming a tune to a song he had wrote, though no one knew about it.

She sniffled, nuzzling her head into his shoulder.

He continued humming his song until he started lightly singing it, he didn't sing much in the band, he was more just instruments, but he did have a really good voice.

She eventually calmed and fell asleep, but the blood was bad.

He sighed, wrapping a blanket around her and carrying her to his car, laying her gently in the back so she could lay down, then he got in and started driving her to the hospital.

She slept, quivering in her sleep.

He parked the car and took her in, letting the nurses take her.

After a few hours he was let into the room. She was still asleep, much more peaceful, and less bloody, although she had quite a few bandages on her legs.

He went to her room and stayed there for a while, then he left a note saying he would be in the children's ward for a while.

She slept for a while, eventually, the nurses gave her medicine to keep her sleeping. Her diagnosis was on the side table for when he came back.

He came back after spending some time with the kids and he looked at her diagnosis.

Diagnosis: PTSD & Polycystic ovary syndrome (PCOS)
Treatments: Nothing possible. Recommended to be kept completely safe.
Cause: Rape; family disease

Then a page about PCOS, which was her infertility disease. It would only be a miracle if she could manage to become fertile again.

He sat in the chair beside her bed and he sighed, reading her chart over and over again, his jaw clenching.

She was still asleep, one of the nurses changing a medicine which looked strange. "Are you her guardian, partner, husband?" she asked.

"Partner, what are you giving her?" he asked with a frown, still agitated that he didn't even wake up when she was taken.

"Just something to keep her calm. After what happened, she'll be jumpy, scared, have flashbacks, nightmares. It'll be rough, just make sure not to give up on her. We've had quite a few records of her, she's known for winding up here due to... incidents."

"What kind of incidents" He asked, still frowning, he didn't really trust the nurse, actually, he didn't really trust anyone after what happened.

"Here's her record, see for yourself." the nurse said, handing him a huge folder file stuffed to the brim with papers of medical records. One in particular was bolded:

Patient Name: Sienna Lark
Surgery Reason: Brain Tumor Removal
Surgery Date: 2/16/2014
Surgery Rate: Success.
Extra Notes: Cancer was removed. She shows no signs of regaining it.

Sheet after another, different reasons. Half were for cancer from her childhood, the other, about things like broken bones, internal bleeding, even police records of her being abused.

He read each sheet and he sighed, "Thanks for letting me see" He muttered.

The nurse nodded and put the record back on a shelf.

He stayed silent, watching Sienna as she slept.

"I'd go do something if I was you. She isn't going to be awake for about four more hours, trust me, you won't miss a thing." the nurse said bluntly.

"I can stay if I want" He snapped lightly, giving the nurse a glare.

The nurse backed away. "Okay, calm down sir." her nametag managed to slip out of her jacket. He probably caught a glance before she shoved it back.

Shirley Lark was her name. Strange, wasn't it?

"How are you related to her" He said bluntly and frowned, throwing a cup and hitting the door, making it close and lock.