More of this fic. I know this one is boring... stay with me. ;)
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"Dr. Carter?"
A white light fell between heavy eyelids, rudely reminding him of the blunt, uncomfortable surface beneath him. He brought his hand up to scratch his eyes, but was stopped by the thin tubes streaming from his arms.
"What the hell?" he muttered, lifting his arms into the air. He saw that each was connected to machines behind him.
A hospital.
The nurse checked something out of his view. He was alone in the room, a tight blue blanket wrapped from his torso down. He tugged at it, whimpering and cursing under his breath.
"What is all of this?"
"You're in a hospital, Dr. Carter," the nurse said. She folded her hands in her lap as she pulled up a chair.
"I know that."
"Do you know what happened?"
"Where's Abby?"
"Dr. Carter," she urged, "do you know what happened to you?"
"No!" he shouted. "Its your job! What the hell happened to me? Why am I here?"
"You don't remember?"
"For Christ's sake - "
"You passed out when you were walking with your friend." A monitor behind the two of them sounded. She reached back without hesitation with a confused look on her face. It lifted. She switched something off and it ceased. With the cessation, she nodded back to him. "You were at the airport."
"The airport?"
"You don't remember that?"
"At O'Hare?"
"Do you remember, Doctor?"
"I know I was at the airport and I know why."
"Do you remember passing out?"
"Should I?"
"Stop being so stubborn," she fought. "Please just cooperate."
"Screw you," he said, tugging at the blanket again. "I want to speak to a doctor." He threw his head back and closed his eyes. That small, black dark wasn't enough to bring him the smallest of peace, but it was enough to let that nurse know that he was ignoring her.
"Would you just listen to me?" she said again, her voice becoming stronger. "Its necessary that you answer these questions, whether your replies are wrong or right."
"I don't want to talk," he said. "Just find me a damn doctor."
"Not until you answer my questions."
"I want a different nurse then."
"There *are* no other nurses, John - "
"That's Dr. Carter."
"Dr. Carter," she said, trying to be gentle. She fixed the blanket he had disarranged terribly.
"Get your hands off of me," he snapped, swatting weakly at her hands. He became aware of his hands bare strength and stared at them. "What's wrong with me?" He asked, his voice under a whisper, eyes stuck on his hands.
"I'm only trying to help."
He looked up at her, but his gaze was averted to the woman behind the glass of the door. She was starting her way inside of the room. He braced himself, lying back down calmly to the pillows. The nurse reached up the straighten them for him.
Now.
--
Intense? Umm, no. Not really. Believe it or not, I actually ripped this one right outta Wells and Orman's hands themselves.
;) me
--
"Dr. Carter?"
A white light fell between heavy eyelids, rudely reminding him of the blunt, uncomfortable surface beneath him. He brought his hand up to scratch his eyes, but was stopped by the thin tubes streaming from his arms.
"What the hell?" he muttered, lifting his arms into the air. He saw that each was connected to machines behind him.
A hospital.
The nurse checked something out of his view. He was alone in the room, a tight blue blanket wrapped from his torso down. He tugged at it, whimpering and cursing under his breath.
"What is all of this?"
"You're in a hospital, Dr. Carter," the nurse said. She folded her hands in her lap as she pulled up a chair.
"I know that."
"Do you know what happened?"
"Where's Abby?"
"Dr. Carter," she urged, "do you know what happened to you?"
"No!" he shouted. "Its your job! What the hell happened to me? Why am I here?"
"You don't remember?"
"For Christ's sake - "
"You passed out when you were walking with your friend." A monitor behind the two of them sounded. She reached back without hesitation with a confused look on her face. It lifted. She switched something off and it ceased. With the cessation, she nodded back to him. "You were at the airport."
"The airport?"
"You don't remember that?"
"At O'Hare?"
"Do you remember, Doctor?"
"I know I was at the airport and I know why."
"Do you remember passing out?"
"Should I?"
"Stop being so stubborn," she fought. "Please just cooperate."
"Screw you," he said, tugging at the blanket again. "I want to speak to a doctor." He threw his head back and closed his eyes. That small, black dark wasn't enough to bring him the smallest of peace, but it was enough to let that nurse know that he was ignoring her.
"Would you just listen to me?" she said again, her voice becoming stronger. "Its necessary that you answer these questions, whether your replies are wrong or right."
"I don't want to talk," he said. "Just find me a damn doctor."
"Not until you answer my questions."
"I want a different nurse then."
"There *are* no other nurses, John - "
"That's Dr. Carter."
"Dr. Carter," she said, trying to be gentle. She fixed the blanket he had disarranged terribly.
"Get your hands off of me," he snapped, swatting weakly at her hands. He became aware of his hands bare strength and stared at them. "What's wrong with me?" He asked, his voice under a whisper, eyes stuck on his hands.
"I'm only trying to help."
He looked up at her, but his gaze was averted to the woman behind the glass of the door. She was starting her way inside of the room. He braced himself, lying back down calmly to the pillows. The nurse reached up the straighten them for him.
Now.
--
Intense? Umm, no. Not really. Believe it or not, I actually ripped this one right outta Wells and Orman's hands themselves.
;) me