. (afrit) wrote in repose, @ 2017-03-15 18:45:00 |
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Entry tags: | *narrative, sam martin |
[Narrative]
Who: Sam
What: Narrative
Where: Hospital in the Capital
When: Nowish
Warnings/Rating: Sam, injuries, Lou, cheeseburgers
Sam didn't remember the ambulance ride. The last thing she remembered was handing the phone over to the paramedic, yeah? And, ok, so the twitching had gone from a nuisance to something more, and her head had felt so fucking heavy, and then there was a rush of voices, and someone was seizing out, and she hoped they got whoever it was help.
That was the last thing she remembered thinking. But she wasn't fried, yeah? As soon as she'd woken up in the ER, she'd realized the person seizing out was her, but that shit was all rearview, baby. She was hooked up to an IV, and the cocktail of anticonvulsants and benzos felt hella fucking nice, yeah? Nothing hurt, not even the scrapes on her knees or hands, and not the gash on her temple. Nah, the little blonde sat in the ER bed, and it engulfed her, yeah? She wore a hospital gown with ties at shoulder and back, and she kinda hoped Cris brought clothes. She didn't think she'd asked him to, but whatever. He was hella smart, and he would think of it.
Sam trusted Cris to think of EVERYTHING.
The television in her room was on, and she was half-watching a cartoon pig snort repeatedly. The snorting made her laugh, and there was a half eaten cheeseburger on the bed table. She'd poked a hella bunch of unecesssary holes in her apple juice top, and the juice was barely touched, even with all that carnage. She sat cross-legged, with thick bandages on her knees, and she wondered where her phone was. Her hands were wrapped thickly with gauze, and that was a pain in the ass.
Too, she wondered where Lou was, and she was too doped to worry about it. Not that she didn't realize the repercussions or whatever, because Lou's new thing meant that he could be Cris like every single fucking time they were around each other. It was freaky, yeah? But it didn't scare her or anything, not now, and even the bile in the back of her throat at how her body had reacted to HIS voice, which wasn't HIS voice, was gone. Nah, she was ok, but she wanted Cris to get there.
But, yeah, Lou. Lou, in a place like this, was probably hella bad news. Was he off being a candy-striper or some sexy nurse? And, ok, so she felt fucked up by what happened on the bike, but how did HE feel? And did he WANT whatever she wanted- whatever whoever he was with wanted? Because how hella messed up was THAT? How was he ever gonna leave the house again??
It was totes insane, but she thought maybe the murdering deity was better than whatever this was. Ok, so maybe this wasn't hella destructive to the world, but it HAD to be hella destructive for Lou, yeah?
But, thanks to the IV, Sam wasn't actually worried about it. She recognized it, realized it, thought about it, but it wasn't anything that ate at her. No twitching, no panic, and the IV dripped nice as fuck, huh? If Cris walked through that door, it would make shit perfect. She yawned, head back against the pillow on the propped bed-back. She would remember to ask him for the code word, huh? To make sure he wasn't Lou. Needed to make sure he wasn't Lou. Not L-