rhys cadwallader, bitches! (ex_tomfooler134) wrote in thedepository, @ 2010-02-16 23:53:00 |
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The thing about unconsciousness, and perhaps the best thing about it in Eli's opinion, was that life went without your input. Time passed, days rolled into another without any effort or second guesses. It was easy. Even those fleeting moments of half consciousness that simply told the world as it were that despite what he might want, his body was trying to mend itself, to put all the pieces together and make him somewhat more whole. And yet waking up always felt a little like dying.
He wasn't sure, but judging by the cotton in his mouth and how itchy his eyes felt, it had to be around two days gone when he finally (and fully) returned to the waking world. Sure, magic was great at patching people together, but it was far too quick for his liking. The pain didn't linger the way it should without the need for casts or sutures. There was always something comforting in the itch of a cast or the way his skin pulled around stitches. And there was something to be said about a nice physical scar because at least he had something to show for that rather than a haunting emptiness.
Eli tried to focus on the dull fleeting pain as he wiggled his fingers and toes rather than the dozens of thoughts flying through his head at that exact moment. Ones that told him no one was going to visit him unless you counted Patrick and he most certainly did not. Geoffrey might have stopped by, but he wasn't going to get his hopes up. Because he was worthless, he had always been - Alicia had told him that much, not that he should be surprised, they always left. And there were other thoughts that told him he shouldn't have made it, just like he hadn't have made it all those other times before because there were better people out there that should have survived and he was just wasting his life away. And maybe he was, but to him at twenty-two he was trying to find that balance between living and surviving.
Fuck. He needed to get out of here, away from the cold hospital room that left him with nothing more than his own thoughts and things to numb the physical pain. He needed to run and never look back. If only he could. Eli eyed the folded pile of clothes on the chair next to the bed. He didn't question it, he just slipped off the bed and moved with far more effort than he would have liked to put on proper clothes. But it was something to keep him busy.
It wouldn't be long before some overly helpful junior healer made his or her way into his room now that he was awake and moving around. That was the one thing he liked better about muggle hospitals it was far easier to escape from when all you had to worry about was pulling out a few ivs, but at Mungo's it was enchantments and charmed objects. He didn't see his wand anywhere in sight, but no doubt it was being kept at one of the mediwitch station's or with his smug arse of a brother because he was too unstable, too much of a risk to be left with it.
At the very least they were learning. Not that it would keep him here. Fuck, there was a reason the kid was a Ravenclaw, he was dangerous when he tried. Unfortunately, he was quickly running out of reasons to try. "I need a drink," he muttered to no one as he finally tugged the jumper all the way on. It was probably for the better there wasn't a mirror in the room, if he looked how he felt, a brain eating zombie was probably more attractive than him.
For a moment he considered leaving some trite note behind, thanking them for a job well done, but he doesn't afraid it might be seen as a suicide note and that would end up his file to hold against him the next time he pushed too far (but never far enough). Instead he just slips out of the hospital room, it should be more difficult, but he's done this so many times before that it comes as second nature. It's a part he played well. Still half-injured and healing, there's really only one place he can go. And it's almost inevitable that'll he get sick and then pass out in the Hooper's living room off before Patrick eventually shows up on a fucking white horse to make sure he's okay as if his older brother actually gave a damn. (And there would be that lurching heartbeat that tells him that now no one does.)