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sky_soldier ([info]sky_soldier) wrote in [info]somerealityrpg,
@ 2019-09-28 17:27:00

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Entry tags:inactive: david katz

Who: Klaus Hargreeves and Dave Katz
What: Reunion
Where: The Hospital
When: Saturday




Dave, it turns out, reacted very well to modern pain medications. It made him drowsy, and it didn’t help that his mind was still reeling, trying to make any sense of what the man had told him when he’d first explored the hospital. The blood stained letter was still sitting beside his table, and he was no sooner than understand the truth of it all.

Slowly, his eyes opened, as they did every once in a while, and took sight of the same room. He half expected this to be a dream, to wake up back in the med tent in the valley--- delusional from fever maybe? But each time he woke up in the same hospital, the one that claimed to be in the year 2019.

This time it was different, he wasn’t alone. He spotted the curly hair, and his face almost instantly smiled. This had to be a dream. He scrambled to sit up, and get a better look at the man who was asleep in the chair near his bed. There was confusion and excitement running through him. He didn’t know how or where he was, but Klaus was here. And somehow that made a lot of things better.

“Klaus?” He called to him gently, reaching out for him with a huff of pain. His eyes shot up to the door to make sure no one could hear him. “Klaus, Handsome, wake up.”



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[info]quattuor
2019-09-28 11:03 pm UTC (link)
Early that morning, he’d traded out his skirt for his favorite (and only pair) of laced up leather pants in the tiny bathroom that adjoined Dave’s room, splashed some water on his face, ran his hands through his hair and after pulling on a mesh shirt - it had stars, who in their right mind could say no to stars anyway? - had called it a look that would both delight and devastate (the young ones, the old ones), and settled in for the long haul. Alright, for the semi-long haul. Klaus - newly clean for a week, which was the longest he’d ever gone so far - really couldn’t afford to forgo the odd cigarette and cafeteria break every now and then. He needed the fix, hollow as it was. And chances were that Dave actually regained consciousness during his much-needed breaks from being at his bedside, but [...] those drugs they were pumping into his veins? They were definitely doing their job. Which was good, but it was still too bad they weren’t for him.

[...] Kinda? He was working on it, alright?

But actually catching some sleep in a hospital was honestly, abso-fucking-lutely easier said than done when its halls and rooms were filled with some of the hospital’s more permanent residents. Of the ghostly kind that was starving for attention, or confused and lonely. And they knew his name and whispered to him the vaguest things - tell my wife that what she needs is in my green raincoat - whenever he stepped out into hallways and even tugged at his sleeves and skirt - rude - as he tried to catch a ride on the elevator. And even though this was a far cry from wartorn Vietnam, the ghosts here still had no chill, and screamed his name over and over again as he tried to sleep. Man, he hated hospitals.

And it happened again. There was a touch, surprisingly gentle this time, and his name, and Klaus startled, and slumped right back down in his chair. “[...] One second,” he mumbled as he fought to open his eyes. His long limbs stretched lazily, and it took him a few more seconds to realize that something in the room had changed. One eye opened, and stared down the figure in the bed. “Dave?”

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[info]sky_soldier
2019-09-28 11:13 pm UTC (link)
“Hey,” Dave said, automatically. His brain was still a little hazy, as he fought slightly to focus on the man at his bedside. He had no idea what was going on, not yet anyway, other than the snippets of conversation he’d had (which were few and far between). Dave’s hand reached out for him, just to touch him, gently. Just to reaffirm that his boyfriend was there, with him, and not some drug induced figment of his imagination.

“What are you doing here?” The grin hadn’t left Dave’s face, but it was a shock to see Klaus. There is no way the military would have sent Klaus to him, and there was no way that he was under long enough for Klaus to be done with his Tour, especially when no one was even sure when Klaus’ tour actually started.

There was a sudden worry though, as he leaned (against the pain, and his better judgement) to look Klaus over as best he could from his spot. His eyebrows knitted together slightly. “You weren’t shot, were you? Are you okay?”

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[info]quattuor
2019-09-29 12:04 am UTC (link)
"Hey," Klaus parroted right back at him. The hospital room was still a dreary old mess, but Dave’s smile could light up any old room, and along with it, Klaus. “Well [...] if you complain often enough, and loudly - they’ll let anyone stay. Even crazy old me.” Every once in a while, a nurse would get it into their heads that Klaus should probably leave and go home, but they hadn’t quite managed to succeed just yet. And until Dave walked out of here, they didn’t have a hope. “So I’ve been right here.” With that, he grabbed Dave’s hand and squeezed. “The nurses tell me you keep waking up whenever I’m not here, but on that cocktail, I don’t think anyone will blame you for sleeping most of the week away.” But in the grand scheme of things, a week was nothing. He’d probably been in drug-fueled comas that had lasted longer than that.

He glanced at the hospital tag around his waist - which was another old habit he probably should just straight up quit - and shook his head. “No, no, that was for [...] did people tell you that we’re not [...] in country anymore? And that it’s not 1968 anymore?" Sometimes, knowing that he'd missed out on Woodstock managed to nag at him in the middle of the night.

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[info]sky_soldier
2019-09-29 05:14 pm UTC (link)
The touch of Klaus’ hand brought Dave comfort almost anytime they could afford the small act. He squeezed Klaus’ hand back, though his eyes kept shifting back and forth to the door, just to make sure that no one was coming in, or could see them at the moment. “I worried about finding my way back to you again.” Dave admitted. His wounds had been serious, and Dave only had the word of a man he thought to be somewhat insane to go on about location. He’d unsettled his stitches his first day, trying to wander around and find a payphone, and when he could barely keep himself awake he worried about whether he would live or not.

But Klaus was there, and there was an almost instant relief because Klaus would look out for him. He sighed though, when Klaus mentioned that it wasn’t 1968. There was a playful smirk on Dave’s face, and he rolled his eyes.

“I suppose you’re going to tell me that it’s Manhattan in 2019, as well?” He teased, rolling his eyes, and gesturing back to the paper the other man had given him. “Look at us, Klaus, we look very good for being men in our 80s.”

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