Title: Brain Damage by kittykat5289

Author's Note: Total AU and OCC, this is the first thing I've written in a LONG time. Just wanted to see if I could still fit in my writing boots or if I had outgrown them. Besides this one-shot idea refused to leave my head and kept buzzing around.

I think this is the first YF fanfic on Completely fictional and meant to be silly.

Summary: One-shot Roger's musings after an accident at a Young Frankenstein show.

Disclaimer: I own nothing!

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Staring down at his hand's Roger wondered when his coffee had gone cold. Sighing he took a tentative drink, but blanched at the idea of finishing the entire cup. Placing his drink down on the wooden table, he saw a flash of her falling, the look of shock on her face when she slipped, then….

"No, no I can't think about that" he muttered underneath his breath sighing and leaning back in his chair, "It wasn't my fault, it wasn't my fault" he repeated looking around to see if anyone had heard him, or even cared.

But no one was around, for a Friday night in the New York emergency room, it seemed pretty empty, though he was only sitting in the waiting room, no one other then family was allowed into the emergency room, and sadly he was not family. Looking down at the wooden table he felt himself slip into the memory of something that had happened less then two hours ago.

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"I'm very high spirited doctor, I hope you von't hold it against me!" said Sutton giving him her impish smile before continuing with the song. Her beautiful smile he had come to know and look forward to seeing every night. The song continued just as every night before. Sutton climbed over the side of the wagon jumping before crawling back at him with the same impish smile.

"You might steal a kiss from an unwitting miss, who's not to resistant to play" she sang heading at him. "So let's roll," he watched her loop her leg, as she always did, "roll, rooool" leaning back, as she always did, "roll in ze hay." Watching her bounce once, twice, Roger waited for her next line.

Except this time it didn't come. Instead, (and he still couldn't figure out how) Roger watched as Sutton's foot slipped, then her leg let go. He managed to catch her shocked expression as she slid off the wagon hit her head, and then lay on the floor not moving.

The audience gasped, the curtain closed and Roger jumped off the cart. He looked down at her motionless body, she lay there like a broken doll, a small puddle of blood was forming next to her he could see a cut on the other side of her head, grabbing her hand he squeezed hoping she would squeeze back, but there was no response from his costar.

Everything else was a blur, the paramedics arrived and he had refused to let go of her hand. He only let go when the wheeled her into the emergency room and physically stopped him from going through the doors.

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This led to his current predicament, sitting in a hard plastic chair, in the New York City emergency room, with a cold cup of coffee. The doctor who had walked in with Sutton's gurney had not yet reappeared.

Opening his cell with a groan, he dialed Chris's number, who picked up on the third ring.

"Rog, what's up how's she doing?"

"No word yet, the stupid clipboard bitch won't tell me anything because I'm not a blood relative." Roger muttered glancing over at the woman behind the counter who refused to yield any information.

"Well were all praying for her here, where's Hunter?"

"He's out of town, I keep calling his cell phone but its off, he's the only blood relative I can think of at the minute. I'd call her parents but I don't know their number"

"Wait a minute did you say blood relative"

"Yeah, hospital policy" said Roger mimicking the clipboard bitch's voice.

"Well what about her husband? Would they let him in?"

"Oh yeah right Chris, call Christian HE'LL be a big help, might I remind you they SEPARATED!"

"No, no, I mean what if you were her husband."

"What?"

"Roger, you're a Tony award winning actor, I HOPE you could convince a receptionist that your someone's husband, look man I got to go, call me if you hear anything."

"Yeah man I'll give it a shot." Shutting his phone off Roger went over to the receptionist, putting on his most charming smile he waited until he had her attention.

"Excuse me miss, I'm sorry about the spectacle I made of myself before, but you must understand that I was incredibly distressed over my wife's condition."

"Wait you're her husband?"

"Why yes ma'am, I am"

"Well why didn't you say that in the first place, room 25"

Thanking the woman and running through the doors Roger almost ran into the man coming out of Sutton's room.

"Excuse me sir is Sutton Foster in this room?"

"Yes, how are you related to the patient?"

"I'm her husband" said Roger smiling somewhat warming to the idea.

"Well, your wife is suffering from a concussion, she had multiple stitches on the back of her head, the laceration was superficial but still did bleed a lot, she's on pain medication right now, so she should be a little woozy before going to sleep, she'll be sent up to another room and discharged tomorrow morning. You can see her now if you'd like."

"Ah yes, thank you doctor." Walking inside the stark white room lay his costar hooked up to several machines. Roger walked over to her bed and smiled at her.

"Hi Sutton"

"Hiiii Rooger" said the giggling girl, smiling up at him. Clearly the medicine was working.

"How are you feeling"

"Sleepy"

"Well maybe you should go to sleep the doctor said that would be best."

"Ooh okay, but but" she giggled again, "but before I dooo, I must tell you something." She motioned for him to come closer

"I knooow you're my cooostar, and I just separated from my husband, but I want you to know, that…that…that I think you have nice hair."

"Thank you Sutton, now why don't you go to sleep"

"OOOkay." She said with one final smile before rolling over and he watched as her breathing started to even out.

Roger leaned back in his chair and smiled, "nice hair," it wasn't a kiss, or a declaration of love, but it was a nice start.

The End

AN: Sorry silly, and foolish, and totally impossible, but this wouldn't leave my head and I needed it gone, at least now I can go to sleep!

So review if you wish, tell me if my writing boots still fit!