At some point, Basil woke up. That wasn't good. It meant that he'd either passed out or been knocked out once they'd gotten him here. He tried to clear the noise from his head, but he felt like, well- like he'd been hit by a train.
That wasn't funny.
Maybe he would tell Victor. Then again, maybe not.
It was too bright in here. And too loud. And too warm. No, too cold. No, too warm. He opened his eyes anyway and tried to sit up. A nurse rushed in and told him to lay back down. Something about stitches- no, staples. A concussion. A blood transfusion. Burns. A broken leg. Basil frowned, he didn't feel any of that, but he agreed to lay back down anyway.
"I have to... Where's my phone? I have to talk to my girlfriend," he said, voice hoarse. Maybe Susan didn't even know what had happened. She had work, right? What day was it? He had to let her know he was okay. If he was okay.