"Doctor Foster. I've heard you're anxious to get out of here." His tone took on a teasing manner, but held a deeper concern as he looked her over, holding her chart in one hand and started writing down some discharge information on the paper.

Nodding her head in a circled form, she gazed out her room window, using the bustle of the hospital as a momentary distraction. She heard him take in an almost uncomfortable breath of air that had her reading his expression. "I can understand that you're uncomfortable discharging me so soon, but I need this." She knew by the slight irritated expression she caught right after, that she had gotten to him.

"Yes, well usually we hold you for observation after a traumatic event, but since I really have no reason to actually hold you, other than for observation—then I see no reason that you can't be released. Do you have somebody that could stay with you for awhile, at least while you're healing?"

She thought for a moment. Alec was out of the picture. And well Cal, he would always be there for her that was a clear fact. She felt the ever need to get back and support him. Not only that, but she was sure that she was in distance of him, he would calm her fears. Make the flashbacks that haunted her mind, and made her feel lost and confused, disappear.

Without a doubt, Cal would show her new faith in his ability to put this man away in jail—and she was going to be there to see it.

"Dr. Foster?" Shaking her head, Gillian realized she had drifted off. "Do you have somebody that could stay with you?"

Adjusting, she cleared her throat. "Yes, I have someone." At least that was a half lie, but he wouldn't know that. In fact, she was thinking about sleeping on the couch in her office.

He studied her for a moment; his expression bordering disapproving and thoughtfulness. as he finally clicked his pen and stuffed it back into his pocket. "Okay then, I'll instruct the nurse to go over the rest of the discharge information with you. And I expect you to take it easy over the next few days."

"Thanks." Gillian said softly, turning to gather up all her belongings and slipping off the bed carefully. She gathered her clothes and went into the bathroom. It was only after she had shut the door that she truly felt alone.

With her head against the wall, she scrubbed one hand across her face. Each of the four walls was lined with forest green tiles. And the wall she was facing, there was a simple wood-framed mirror, which seemed to reflect every scratch and bruise that happened to be forming on her body.

Inching forward, she thought about taking a closer look, but then decided it more important to change out of the most uncomfortable gown that she had been wearing for the last couple hours. Although it was hard to put her jeans and shirt—she managed to get everything on, just as someone knocked on the door.

Usually she wouldn't have jumped at such an action, but after her attack she felt aware and cautious of her surroundings. "I'll be right out." She called to the person waiting outside the door. It occurred to her how her voice had trembled slightly at the words—or how her body began to ache with every small motion, like unlocking the door to the bathroom.

When Gillian came back into the room, she let her shoulders fall in relief at the nurse who had been waiting for her. With her sandy blonde hair and soft blue eyes, Natalie was standing behind a wheelchair. "I hear you're ready to go." Gillian gave a nod; reminding herself that it was hospital policy to be wheeled out of the hospital. As she sat down, Gillian was informed of all the discharge information that she would need to know before leaving. "Do you have anyone that could take you home—or should I call a cab?"

"A cab would be great." Gillian told her quietly, as she reached over and gathered her purse from the edge of the bed; letting it rest in her lap.

"A cab it is." She flashed Gillian a reassuring smile, before turning towards the door. "I'll be right back." The nurse offered, exchanging a glance as she left the room.