It's not serious, well, not life threatening at any rate. But I'm sure it
hurts like hell. The doctor's don't want him to come back any time soon, so
they're making him stay for a week. They don't trust him not to take it
easy, and I agree with them. Within an hour, he would be chasing down some
purse-snatcher, putting some heavy-duty strain on his shoulder. The bullet
went right through, but it made a hell of a mess on its path to freedom.
I'm on suspension pending a psyche test to see if I'm nuts or not for killing that asshole. No doubt I'll get a lecture from Mr. Supermountie himself on 'rash and impulsive actions that could possibly lead to the harm of yourself or others'. Like I give a fuck, he hurt Fraser. Everyone is worried about him, Frannie's bawling her eyes out, Welsh is really silent, and I have that line running around in my head 'oh darkness I feel like letting go'. I feel like joining Frannie in her bawl fest.
If I could, I swear I'd kick myself in the head, and but, and balls, all at the same time! Or maybe not, my nuts are retreating into my body at warp speed just at the thought of doing that.
If I can't convince Fraser to tell me what's going on, I swear I will drag him to a shrink, park his but on a chair, and bully him into telling them what's going on. And then I'll interrogate the shrink until they tell me what's going on with him. Sounds fair, don't ya think?
"Ray." A hoarse croak came from the bed and my tired body jackknifed into awareness with the speed only pure adrenaline could manage on the truly tired. "Frase! How are you buddy? Sore? Tired? Thirsty? What?"
"All of thee above. Ray, what are you doing here? What happened?"
"You were shot on the shoulder. You are to stay in that bed until the Doc says it's okay for you to move, and Frase, if you try to get up without her permission, I will personally fetch Nurse Ratchet to tie you to that bed where she will spoon feed you hospital food, sponge bath you, and generally watch you like a hawk all the time" That seemed to be an effective threat as I watched Ben's eyes widen and his face pale.
"That's right, the same one you had last time you were here, and believe you me, she remembers you, and is rubbing her hands in anticipation, just waiting for you to misbehave.
"You wouldn't," Ben whispered in horror, fear and disbelief warring for dominance on his face, "Not to me? Not to your friend?"
"Better believe it, BentonBuddy."
He stayed. In fact, he was the perfect patient. But I was still worried about him, and Welsh was beginning to look at me as if I were the most dense guy in the world. I just couldn't figure out why.
"Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean. Tears from the depth of some divine despair Rise in the heart, and gather in the eyes In looking on the happy autumn fields And thinking of the days that are no more." --Lord Tennyson, "The Princess"
I'm on suspension pending a psyche test to see if I'm nuts or not for killing that asshole. No doubt I'll get a lecture from Mr. Supermountie himself on 'rash and impulsive actions that could possibly lead to the harm of yourself or others'. Like I give a fuck, he hurt Fraser. Everyone is worried about him, Frannie's bawling her eyes out, Welsh is really silent, and I have that line running around in my head 'oh darkness I feel like letting go'. I feel like joining Frannie in her bawl fest.
If I could, I swear I'd kick myself in the head, and but, and balls, all at the same time! Or maybe not, my nuts are retreating into my body at warp speed just at the thought of doing that.
If I can't convince Fraser to tell me what's going on, I swear I will drag him to a shrink, park his but on a chair, and bully him into telling them what's going on. And then I'll interrogate the shrink until they tell me what's going on with him. Sounds fair, don't ya think?
"Ray." A hoarse croak came from the bed and my tired body jackknifed into awareness with the speed only pure adrenaline could manage on the truly tired. "Frase! How are you buddy? Sore? Tired? Thirsty? What?"
"All of thee above. Ray, what are you doing here? What happened?"
"You were shot on the shoulder. You are to stay in that bed until the Doc says it's okay for you to move, and Frase, if you try to get up without her permission, I will personally fetch Nurse Ratchet to tie you to that bed where she will spoon feed you hospital food, sponge bath you, and generally watch you like a hawk all the time" That seemed to be an effective threat as I watched Ben's eyes widen and his face pale.
"That's right, the same one you had last time you were here, and believe you me, she remembers you, and is rubbing her hands in anticipation, just waiting for you to misbehave.
"You wouldn't," Ben whispered in horror, fear and disbelief warring for dominance on his face, "Not to me? Not to your friend?"
"Better believe it, BentonBuddy."
He stayed. In fact, he was the perfect patient. But I was still worried about him, and Welsh was beginning to look at me as if I were the most dense guy in the world. I just couldn't figure out why.
"Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean. Tears from the depth of some divine despair Rise in the heart, and gather in the eyes In looking on the happy autumn fields And thinking of the days that are no more." --Lord Tennyson, "The Princess"