Hospital Beds
Arriving at the hospital, you were immediately reminded why you loathed hospitals. But you pulled yourself together, played your part with doctors and nurses and police, and filled in the forms with fake data as your mystery man was wheeled into an operating theater. His wounds had been worse than you’d anticipated, causing him to pass out on the way as you’d held his hand in a show of familial distress. Luckily, with the general chaos that day, no one had had the time to ask you too many questions. There were emergencies all over the city as people panicked and virtually no one knew what was actually going on.
You sat in the waiting room, sipping watery coffee and watching the clueless news people scramble for something to tell their viewers. You didn’t envy them their jobs right now; it was all just so damn confusing. Endless footage replaying how those Helicarriers crashed into the Potomac (you had seen them on your drive home, though from much farther away) while reporters and supposed experts tried to make sense of the situation. It seemed that SHIELD was down, and that Captain America was somehow involved. There was talk of terrorism, of course, and the wildest theories were being tossed around …you were honestly too tired to care at this point, you were just using the TV not to fall asleep.
It was way past midnight when a kindly doctor approached you to update you on ‘Cousin Will’s’ condition. His injuries were many and dire: a broken arm, five fractured ribs, a pierced and collapsed lung, they’d had to dig a full eight bullets out of him and also there had been extensive internal bleeding; the countless cuts and bruises he’d sustained on top of that almost paled in comparison. You gulped heavily as the doctor told you that there was a good chance he’d make it, but his condition was critical and they’d have to keep him for the time being. Eventually she showed you to the room they’d put him in and you didn’t have to act anymore; your stomach churned all on its own at the sight of all those tubes sticking out of him. You really, really hated hospitals.
Then again you were too exhausted to go back home, and you felt somehow responsible for the man who had all but fallen at your feet, and you were loath to abandon him here when he had been so obviously terrified of going. And besides, you’d given him your word and it was not as if there was much of the night left anyway. You left a message at work, calling in sick for the day, and another for Skye in the fading hope that she’d return your call, then dragged a spare comfy seat into the room while no one was looking and curled up in it. You fell asleep instantly.
You woke up a few hours later when a nurse came in during her morning round. She told you that ‘Cousin Will’ was not likely to wake up before the evening, or indeed at all this day, and if he did she’d make sure you were informed at once. She suggested you go home, freshen up and get some actual rest, which you found to be an excellent idea. At least your apartment had some real coffee, and also you were positively famished by now. You waited until the nurse left and approached the bed hesitantly.
“So, um… I’m gonna be back later today to check on you. Please don’t wake up and if you do please don’t throw a fit or something and try to kill someone or anything like that.”
Unsurprisingly there was no response (how could he, in an artificial coma and with a tube down his throat?) and you turned to leave, before one more thought made you return to your mystery man’s bedside. “I promise you that you are safe here. Hang in there, champ.” You reached for his hand to squeeze it reassuringly, but thought better of it and left.
Out in the hallway, you dragged your tired feet along as fast as you could. Your reflexes weren’t the best at the moment, and you hadn’t really been paying that much attention to where you were going, and so you collided with someone rounding a corner at moderate speed and the impact sent you sprawling to the floor.
“I’m sorry Miss, are you okay?” a warm voice said, sounding genuinely concerned. You looked up into a handsome face with a warm apologetic smile. You noticed that he had a cute little gap between his front teeth as he offered you his hand to help you up. You mumbled something along the line of ‘thanks’ and ‘don’t worry I’m fine’ before shuffling on towards the exit.
“Hey, wait!” you heard his voice behind you, followed by a few quick steps. “You lost your bag.” He smiled kindly as he held it out to you.
“Oh, thank you…”
“Sam.”
“Thank you Sam, I’m ________ and I really gotta go, no offense.”
“None taken.” He replied, all charm. “Have a nice day.”
“You too, Sam.” You mumbled.
Once home, you couldn’t help but collapse on your bed. At least you had the presence of mind to set your alarm so that you wouldn’t sleep through the entire day. Having done that your eyes fell shut and you rapidly drifted off into a deep, dreamless slumber.
You woke again but ten minutes shy of your set time from the sound of your own stomach growling. Groggily you sat up, stretched your tense back and shuffled into the kitchen to heat up some leftovers. You surveyed the damage done to your living room as you ate. There were a few bullet holes in the walls, but miraculously your furniture had survived the ordeal unscathed, and so had you, for that matter. The same could not be said for the carpet. You frowned down upon the congealed and dried blood in the fabric, making a mental note to pick up some special carpet cleaner on your next trip to the shops. Leaving the rest as it was, you put your dishes in the sink and went to take a shower. The warm water helped you relax your tense shoulders as you pondered over everything that had happened to you that past night. You thought of your mystery man and his haunted eyes and how drained and broken he had looked in that hospital bed, all bruises and bandages and tubes and beeping machines. You thought of Sam and his radiant smile and wondered who he’d been at the hospital for and hoped that it was something good. You thought of Skye who didn’t return your calls and prayed that she hadn’t gotten herself into trouble, not when you weren’t there to help her out of it like when you were kids.
You were just debating staying in the shower for another indulgent five minutes when you heard a pitiful mewling outside. Your cat! Well, not technically your cat so much as a stray you had sort of semi-adopted, meaning she’d stop by every few days for a meal and some petting.
“You’ll not believe what happened to me.” You said to the wily ginger cat after you’d let her in through the kitchen window. Damn, you really needed someone to talk to, someone who was physically capable of answering preferably. You gave the cat some food and willed Skye to not be dead or detained somewhere.
After drying off and putting on some more appropriate clothes than the sweatpants and old shirt you’d worn before, you grabbed your keys and purse and made for the garage. Traffic was as relaxed today as it had been thick the day before, and you arrived at the hospital in the late afternoon. Your mystery man was still out of it, both to your relief and slightly annoyed impatience. You wanted some answers, and you wanted to get out of this whole mess as soon as possible.
“I’m back, so if you wanna wake up and tell me who you are and what that stunt last night was all about, be my honored guest.” You spoke into the relative silence of the room, receiving no answer but the steady beeping of the heart monitor. You sighed. Just what had you gotten yourself into here?
You stayed for a little more than two hours, briefly chatting with the nurse when she made her round and willing him to wake up and release you from this charade. It didn’t happen, of course. You eventually said your good-byes and good nights to his still form, half joking that you would come back every day to annoy him until he told you what you wanted to know.