Chapter 2

The early morning sun found gap in his curtain and was now conspiring with his bladder to try and force him from his bed. He just turned his head. Fuck you! Fuck the world! He still had his defiance; at least he still had that. He had very little control over his life anymore; where he could go, what he could say, what he could do. There were times he thought he'd been better off if they had found his bloated body hanging in his closet, because what came next for him was worse than death. Even though there was a bright side. Nobody wanted to be known as the heartless douchbag who'd sent him to prison. The charge against him had been dropped. He sighed and looked at his clock again. It was almost six. Almost time.

He was choking; he couldn't understand why he was choking. It took a moment for him to realize there was something in his mouth. He couldn't spit it out. He was going to reach up and pull it out but was startled by a loud beeping near his head. He began gagging and started to panic when he realized he wasn't breathing properly. Opening his eyes he saw a face above him and he felt hands on his shoulders pressing him down.

"Hold still Mr. Tucker," said a dark skinned man whose face hovered above his. "You're on a ventilator. It may feel strange, but you'll be ok, I'll be removing the tube that's in you mouth and throat in just a moment. Blink once if you understand me?"

He blinked.

"Good. I'll be right back."

The face disappeared and he was left to stare at a blank ceiling. He could hear people talking and moving about him. With his eyes he followed the tube coming out of him as far as he could to his left. He was attached to a machine. I'm a robot, he thought. He then felt a comforting warmth spread through his body as the man's face appeared again.

"I've given you something to help you relax."

Another face appeared opposite him. It was a woman with her blond hair pulled back into a ponytail. She was holding a wand. I'm in a magic show. " I'm going to be suctioning your tube before we take it out. It won't hurt but it will feel a little strange." As the tip of the wand got closer to his face he closed his eyes. He could hear the sucking sound it made and he could feel his insides gurgling. I'm at the dentist.

The noise soon stopped and he felt hands on his face. He could feel something being pulled from his skin. "Mr. Tucker." He opened his eyes; the man was back. "I'll be removing the tube now. It can be scary but try not to move around too much. You may feel the need to cough, that's normal and it actually helps." He could see the main tube being disconnected from the contraption he felt in his mouth. His breathing changed. I'm suffocating! His body jerked automatically, fighting for breath and he could feel something moving inside him as he watched a tube being pulled from his mouth. He coughed a few times and it was out. He still struggled for air as his lungs adjusted to breathing on their own.

"Slow deep breaths sir. That's it. Slow and easy." He followed the commands and soon settled into a rhythm. His jaw ached. He opened and closed his mouth a few times.

"Don't try to speak yet. Here…," the woman held up a stick with a little green sponge on the end, "…suck on this." He opened his mouth when he felt it touch his lips and he sucked on the tiny moistened sponge. He sucked it dry before pushing it out with his tongue. He wanted to know where he was. He tried to ask, but all that came out was a hoarse sounding, "…at…at."

The Doctor understood him though. "You're at the Royal London Hospital. You've been here for nearly a month."

A month! How? Why? He tried to speak again. "Hh…huhh...?"

Don't try and talk Mr. Tucker. You've had a hemorrhagic stroke and it may be difficult to speak right now. I need to do a quick assessment of you, so just blink to reply. Once for yes two for no. Do you understand?"

He blinked once.

Good. That's good. Do you remember where you are?

One blink.

Do you remember what happened to you?

Two blinks.

"You had extreme hypertension Mr. Tucker. Your blood pressure was so high you were a walking time bomb." The Doctor pointed to the left side of his head. "The pressure ruptured a blood vessel in your brain. Do you understand?"

He didn't respond right away. He was taking in what the Doctor had just told him. Blood vessel ruptured in the brain. Not good.

"Do you understand what an aneurysm is?"

Malcolm closed his eyes. He didn't want to blink. This couldn't be happening to him. He could just keep his eyes closed and hoped this would all go away.

"Mr. Tucker?"

But it wasn't going away. This Doctor wasn't going away. He opened his eyes.

"Is that a yes?"

He blinked.

"Good. Ok. Now I need to do some assessments. He held up a pen light. Follow this with your eyes."

The assessment lasted only a few minutes, but it wore him out. Mentally, not physically.

Physically, he barely moved; they did most of the lifting, poking and prodding. But mentally, every test he blinked yes or no to only worried him more and more. He wanted to close his eyes and go to sleep. Go to sleep and never wake up.

"Mr. Tucker?"

"Mr. Tucker?"

The doctor gave him a gentle shake and reluctantly opened his eyes.

"That's all for today. We'll let you rest. Jenny is your nurse and she will be in and out to check on you. We'll also call your sister and let her know you're awake. "Get some rest, stay positive and you'll get through this. I promise."

Malcolm wanted that promise in writing.

Authors note: I realize this was a short chapter but it's a stepping stone to the rest of the story. I also wanted to make this disclaimer/apology to any doctors or nurses, or stroke victims or family of stroke victims who may read this. I am no expert on the condition, even though I have a close family member who has had one. I have done basic research on medical procedures, and stroke related after effects, so please don't call me out on any inaccuracies. I could spend months on proper research, but this is just fanfiction and I have a story to write and a life to lead. And if you think this makes me callous towards stroke survivors then you can do as Malcolm Tucker would probably tell you: "Go and find another fuckin' story to read!"