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Who: Hans ot anyone who might stop in
Where: Hans's house
When: early June (about three weeks after his shooting)
Hans recovered sufficiently that they released him from the hospital now, and he was at home recuperating. It would be another week or two before they allowed him back at work. He'd been visited several times by his superior officers, once to receive a medal and a commendation for being shot in the line of duty, and once to be interrogated over what had occurred. He wasn't sure they believed him when he said over and over again that he could not remember what had happened that night - but it was true. He could remember the patrol he'd been on just prior, and waking up groggily in the hospital after - but the events in between were shrouded in mystery.
His sister had helped him get settled, and had wanted to stay with him at the house - but he refused. She would only fuss over him, and he'd had enough of that at the hospital. He would rest, he assured her, and she could come to visit him daily if she so desired, but he needed some space in which to contemplate things. The close call he'd had with death had changed him, somewhat. He felt more sober, less secure, and very distant (even from himself). If only Marie-Pierre hadn't gone away, he thought, and quickly squashed the thought down because there was no sense of following that train. He'd checked in twice with the Occitan Bistro, and no one there knew when he'd be back, or where he'd gone. With the nature of Duclos's business, it was expected, but still...
Hans turned on his phonograph to play some music , and tried to concentrate on reading a book. Even small activities like this still tired him out, but it was better than worrying over circumstances he could not change.
Where: Hans's house
When: early June (about three weeks after his shooting)
Hans recovered sufficiently that they released him from the hospital now, and he was at home recuperating. It would be another week or two before they allowed him back at work. He'd been visited several times by his superior officers, once to receive a medal and a commendation for being shot in the line of duty, and once to be interrogated over what had occurred. He wasn't sure they believed him when he said over and over again that he could not remember what had happened that night - but it was true. He could remember the patrol he'd been on just prior, and waking up groggily in the hospital after - but the events in between were shrouded in mystery.
His sister had helped him get settled, and had wanted to stay with him at the house - but he refused. She would only fuss over him, and he'd had enough of that at the hospital. He would rest, he assured her, and she could come to visit him daily if she so desired, but he needed some space in which to contemplate things. The close call he'd had with death had changed him, somewhat. He felt more sober, less secure, and very distant (even from himself). If only Marie-Pierre hadn't gone away, he thought, and quickly squashed the thought down because there was no sense of following that train. He'd checked in twice with the Occitan Bistro, and no one there knew when he'd be back, or where he'd gone. With the nature of Duclos's business, it was expected, but still...
Hans turned on his phonograph to play some music , and tried to concentrate on reading a book. Even small activities like this still tired him out, but it was better than worrying over circumstances he could not change.
lonely