Who: Sam What: Narrative: Waking up Where: UMC When: Nowish Warnings/Rating: Language and nonsensical chronology
Sam woke up slow.
It wasn't like any of Lin's television show bullshit. None of Lin's jingles or anything like that, and it was fucking slow. They stopped the medicine on Tuesday morning, and it was like fighting through fucking fog. The doctors thought it was a bad sign, though she didn't know that they'd scribbled negative shit on the chart that lived in the nursing cart outside her door. There was no sitting up with a jerk, none of that crap. Instead, there was a blink of eyes when they pulled the breathing tube out, a whimper, like some useless little fucking thing dying. That was Wednesday afternoon, and it wasn't until late that night that she finally managed to keep her eyes open. And fuck you very much, medicated nightmares.
She blinked, and this wasn't fucking Aria.
There was no one there, in the room, and the nurse scurried away after Sam pushed the button on the remote near her hand. Then the doctors came, and she had tons of fucking questions that she had trouble making sense of. Her tongue tangled, and shit seemed out of order, and her head felt like she'd taken a fall off a fucking I-Beam. But most importantly, she didn't know what the fuck had happened. The doctors whispered to each other, like she was some brain-dead thing that couldn't fucking understand them. And, ok, yeah, so maybe she had trouble understanding them. They whispered, words like memory loss, motor functions, confused chronology, hearing loss. Oh, yeah, she definitely wasn't hearing out of that left ear, and the bandage right behind it was so fucking thick that she couldn't feel through it. But her fingers felt like weights, and maybe that had something to do with it.
In the end, it was some woman in a suit that told her that, for her own safety, they weren't going to inform the press that she was awake. What the fuck? The press? The press didn't give a shit about her. Where was Neil? Ok, so things with them were kind of up in the air, but they always were. He should at least be around. Lou? Tessy? Liam? Iris?
"Tessy? Who is Tessy, Ms. Alexander?"
And she groaned and just closed her fucking eyes. Ok, fuck explaining shit. There were whispers about questioning her later, and then the nurse took her vitals and explained how to press the buttons on the morphine pump. But, yeah, buttons were a pain in the ass, and she just wanted someone to give her a straight fucking answer. That someone wasn't the nurse, because the woman just looked at her with something like fucking pity when Sam asked her if it was still May.
No, not fucking May then. Yeah, ok, so maybe she'd been asleep a few days or something. And the nurse dimmed the light by the door, and Sam could see the shadow of the woman in the suit outside.
Okay, what the fuck? Was the woman a business lawyer?
Had she actually fallen off an I-Beam on some work lot? Hey, maybe she could sue and get really fucking loaded. Then Neil wouldn't always think she was trying to mooch off his rich ass or something. Yeah, ok, so maybe Tessy would know some crooked lawyers. Lin would know good lawyers, and so would Lou. Yeah, no, Daniel. Daniel would know some twisted fucking attorney, and he'd like fucking shit up from inside his Rapunzel tower bullshit.
Maybe she'd be rich as fuck by the end of 2012. Wouldn't that be fucking awesome?
Now, if only she could work the buttons on the fucking morphine pump.