Who: Janus Yaxley Where: A Muggle hospital, Maidstone, England When: Indeterminate time, November 20 (Backdated) What: Janus is finally getting over his post-traumatic amnesia. Rating: Medium Warnings: Yaxley being Yaxley Status: Narrative, complete.
Indistinct voices and strange beeping noises welcomed him when the veil of sleep lifted.
Yaxley sluggishly opened his eyes and managed to look up to a drab ceiling made of a strange material that was lit with not candles, torches, or any normal magical lighting device, but the burning glare of Muggle electricity. He squinted, as the light glared down into his eyes.
Eventually, he focused away from the source of light and investigated the room further. There was a curtain around the bed he was in, which was much like St. Mungo's, in that respect. That and the bed were the extent of comparisons he could really make to the wizarding hospital. He realised that there was little pain, despite noticing that his left wrist had a strange blue material wrapped around it. It was something injured Muggles wore time-to-time, he managed to recall. Something was wrapped around his head, and he could deduce they were bandages, having received them over the years for various cuts and injuries.
With disgust and slight apprehension, he looked down to his inner right arm, one of the few places where he could feel any type of discomfort. A tubing was puncturing that arm. Yaxley's eyes widened just a little and he tried sitting up a bit to get a better look at it and the apparatus feeding the tube, but he stopped his attempt short, when bandages strained against his movement. He could barely move as is.
Where was his wand? Had he lost it during his fall? Or perhaps it had broken. His stomach turned at the possibility of the latter two.
The curtain opened and a young redhead stepped inside, smiling. He could only assume it was one of their poor substitutes for a matron.
“You’re awake! How are you today, mister?”
Yaxley merely stared at the woman warily for a few moments. He’d play along for now – just to learn what had happened.
“Where am I, what happened to me, what is this?”
The woman paused to read his chart and wondered if he was still experiencing amnesia from his head injury. Once she gleaned what she needed to answer his questions, she looked up. “Oh, love, they picked you up in Sittinbourne and took you here by the Kent Air Ambulance. You took quite a fall and were in a coma until just this past week. But the good news...the doctor said you’ve been healing very well and will probably make a full recovery from your concussion and other injuries.”
“Has anyone come inquiring about me?” It was a faint hope. Had they known, he wouldn’t be within this dump, he knew that.
“No,” she said calmly, smiling. “We still don’t have your name, sir, since you had no identification and were still recovering from the coma and brain swelling. Would you mind giving me your name and place of residence? Take your time. Oh, and I'm Maureen.”
He still knew better than to give his name away freely. “John Harris,” he lied. “...London.”
“Thanks, John. We can get phone numbers later.” She wrote on the chart.
“Where am I?” His patience was thinning.
“The Maidstone Hospital...well, Maidstone District General Hospital, but everyone calls it the first.”
So, they had moved him south. “How much longer am I going to be laid up like this?”
“At least another week for recovery and observation, as long you mend as expected. The concussion, and your back are going to take longer to heal.”
“What’s happened to my back?”
Other than the cast and strange thing in his arm, he couldn’t feel much pain or discomfort. Was he partially paralysed?
“Fractured disc, I’m afraid. And you have three fractured ribs and a fractured wrist. Scratches too, and a few stitches here and there.”
He sighed. “Where’s the pain? Can I walk?”
“You’re on some intravenous medication that helps with that,” she nodded to the IV. “I'm sure you'll be walking in no time...don't you worry! But now that you’re awake and have many questions I can't answer, the doctor will need to talk to you and well…” she smiled, showing crooked teeth, “everything else! Let me go see if he's available.”
"Wait."
She stopped pulling on the curtain. "Yes?"
"I need to ask this now - it's important. Was anything brought with me? Possessions?"
The nurse thought for a moment, then checked the paperwork in her hands briefly. "I'd have to go inquire about that, John."
"There has to be something."
"I'm so sorry, John, but I can't do that right now, I'll get the doctor and he can explain more to you and then we can check-"
"No, I need my possessions now, and I can't lay here for weeks. So you can either do me a service...get my things, or I'm going to fucking pull myself out of this bed and get them myself."
The nurse's eyes widened at the sudden language. "Sir, please. I've only been trying to help. If you try moving now, you might hurt yourself more. I’m going to get the doctor, John. Okay? We'll answer all of your questions and find your possessions as soon as we can." She exited through the curtain.
Janus could hear her speaking to another nurse outside the curtain in a hushed tone. His hearing was much better than the Muggles must have been used to.
"Claire, would you mind removing the cath on this one, when Doc Robinson gives the clear? You owe me since I covered those extra half-hour for you yesterday." Maureen didn't sound very cheery once she was away from him.
The other woman sighed, and she sounded considerably older. "Fine, this once, but you'll have to get used to it sometime. If you think the irritated ones are bad, wait 'til you get the crazy ones..."
"He's a weirdo. Might be a loony for all we know." Maureen then walked off to go find the doctor.