| Oliver and Hannah |
[15 Jul 2008|09:53pm] |
Oliver's sleep was surprisingly peaceful, but that might just have been the sedatives. He woke up slowly, feeling a heaviness in his bladder, and the call button brought a nurse bustling into the room with a bedpan. There was a television bolted to the wall, the remote on the bedside table, but he didn't reach for it.
The casts on his legs were a stark white, and he glowered down at them. He'd never broken a bone before, much less two at once. He hoped the doctors had been able to set them properly. A limp was a souvenir he didn't want.
He sagged back against the pillows, looking at the silent television. He wondered how the wreck was being explained, the presence of those decidedly not human bodies at the scene. He hoped Homeland Security fucking choked on the bad publicity.
Hannah’s ethereal presence filtered into the hospital room. She arrived tentatively; she was a little unsure of herself, because she hadn’t been Oliver’s knight in shining armor after all. In fact, if it weren’t for a terrible wreck, he might still be holed up someplace secret.
When she came into solidity, Hannah was over by the window. She was nothing more than dust particulates floating in a shaft of sunlight. Slowly those specks became girl-shaped. She gnawed on her lip. “Oliver?” She looked at his leg casts. Ouch!
Perhaps it was that he was getting used to her appearances, as if the way she materialized had a sound like the wind picking up, her petite frame slowly becoming solid to allow him to touch her. Maybe it was simply because he was in love with her.
Oliver's head turned towards on the pillow so that he faced the window, and a weary smile touched the corners of his mouth. From heaven, all things really are possible.
"Hello, love," he said quietly. "Please excuse me if I don't get up. I'm rather indisposed at the moment."
( The 'We Hate Hospitals' Club )
( A Booster Shot of Sorts )
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