Schuldig looked up at the hospital ceiling.
(Damn, my leg itches.)
His right leg was encased in a plaster cast, elevated in a harness. He was sitting an upright position. He picked at a frayed thread on the hospital gown. Luckily, they let him keep his lucky silk green boxers on, cause it was slightly chilly in the room. He stretched as much as he could.
(Fuckin' hospital. . .Hate these places.)
He found himself becoming addicted to "Divorce Court." At least the drugs they gave him, kept the pain away. Not to mention the voices. . .
A nurse came in. "It's time for your sponge bath, Mr. Smith"
(Damn alias, Crawford gave me sucks! Do I looks like a 'Smith'?)
"Good." At least it would give him something to take away the boredom.
"Just take off the gown's top part for me."
Schuldig obliged, shivered as the gown pooled at his waist, his torso naked. "I hope the water is warm this time."
The nurse smiled as she dipped the sponge in the water. She was about to start on his back when she noticed something. A semi-large tattoo on his right shoulder blade.
It was of an angel, her wings were semi-folded and her hands were clasped in prayer. Long curling brown hair cascaded down her back, and a serene expression graced her face. Under it, in Chancery Italic hand was the word. . .
"Guilty? Why guilty Mr. Smith?"
Schuldig smiled a small sad smile. "Because innocence is a word I don't know the meaning of.". . . .
Crawford arrived at the hospital to pick up Nagi. He was well enough to come home, but they insisted that Schuldig was to stay for more observation.
"His leg was broken in three places, Mr. Crawford, we just want to make sure he'll be able to function without pain before we send him home.", the doctors told him.
Crawford nodded. He wanted Schuldig as healthy as possible, before coming home. There will be no invalids in his household. "Can I at least see him?"
The doctor nodded. "He might be asleep, but I see no reason why not."
Crawford walked down the white hallways silently until he came to the German's door. He opened it silently.
Schuldig was asleep. Moonlight streamed in the window on the far wall, illuminating everything in silver light. Crawford watched him sleep for several minutes; Schuldig's face was turned to the side, his mouth was gaped open. He snored lightly.
Crawford smiled a crooked smile and placed something on the table beside the bed.
"Now don't you ever tell me I never got you anything."
He turned silently on his heel and walked out, closing the door quietly.
Schuldig's snoring quieted, the breathing even, and the mouth closed. The German opened an eye and reached over on the table. He unwrapped the strawberry Blow-Pop, put it in his mouth, and closed his eyes. The lips around the stick smiled and mumbled quietly.
"Thank you."