theatrical_muse | #271. Sick
Feb. 28th, 2009 12:31 pm#271: Talk about a time you were sick
Tim was once again back to watching the door of his hospital room. This time, there was no blank, restless hope that someone would walk through the door (or wheel, in Jason’s case) to come and keep him occupied. Hell, he had even gotten to the point where he welcomed someone coming in to lecture him because it distracted him from the fact he was basically hog-tied to a hospital bed. He hated it. Sure, he knew he felt like shit and that was generally the reason why people where in the pits of hospital hell, but he didn’t care.
His eyes narrowed as he counted to ten in his head. Last time Six had sprung him trying to get out and that was all a huge failure. He couldn’t handle this anymore. Hadn’t they fixed the problem that made him puke blood in the first place? He didn’t feel like he was being stabbed in the guts anymore, so as far as he was concerned, that was a huge plus. He was once again about to peel the stiff white blanket back from his legs to attempt another escape route when a swarm of blue jerseys appeared in the doorway. “Thought ya’ might be needin’ some distractions, Riggs,” one of Tim’s ex-Panthers teammates said with a smirk.
( Tim’s blue eyes analysed them for a moment before his own smirk appeared. “What ya’ bring me, Howie? Porn? Booze?” he asked, unable to filter the hopeful edge from his tone... )
Jason/Six is
itwontstopme and referenced with permission
Word Count | 459
Tim was once again back to watching the door of his hospital room. This time, there was no blank, restless hope that someone would walk through the door (or wheel, in Jason’s case) to come and keep him occupied. Hell, he had even gotten to the point where he welcomed someone coming in to lecture him because it distracted him from the fact he was basically hog-tied to a hospital bed. He hated it. Sure, he knew he felt like shit and that was generally the reason why people where in the pits of hospital hell, but he didn’t care.
His eyes narrowed as he counted to ten in his head. Last time Six had sprung him trying to get out and that was all a huge failure. He couldn’t handle this anymore. Hadn’t they fixed the problem that made him puke blood in the first place? He didn’t feel like he was being stabbed in the guts anymore, so as far as he was concerned, that was a huge plus. He was once again about to peel the stiff white blanket back from his legs to attempt another escape route when a swarm of blue jerseys appeared in the doorway. “Thought ya’ might be needin’ some distractions, Riggs,” one of Tim’s ex-Panthers teammates said with a smirk.
( Tim’s blue eyes analysed them for a moment before his own smirk appeared. “What ya’ bring me, Howie? Porn? Booze?” he asked, unable to filter the hopeful edge from his tone... )
Jason/Six is
Word Count | 459
