Eliot snorted quietly. "I think they're going to take extra care to not lose anything belonging to an officer of the law," he stated dryly as he dropped down into a nearby chair. The corner of his mouth quirked up as Booth started going on about pudding. "That's the worst you can come up? They don't have pudding?" Painkillers or not, he wasn't letting that one go. "Suck it up, man. Maybe if they're good, you'll get some jello later."
He picked up the list of channels the hospital TVs got, scanning it. "I'll tell you what's wrong with this place. It doesn't have ESPN." Or any sports channel, from the looks of it. He tossed the list back on the bedside table.
"Bones? Isn't she an archeologist or an anthropologist or something?" Whatever it was, it had to do with a field that didn't involve brain issues. "Just do what the doctors tell you, all right? They're trained to fix whatever the hell is wrong with you." He waved a hand at his head, indicating what he couldn't explain. "Try not to make too much of an idiot out of yourself on that pain medication."