He'd never been very good at waking up, but after two weeks of oblivion, it was damn near impossible.
He felt like crap. Complete, utter, undeniable crap.
Stiff, sore, dizzy. Something stung in his left hand as he tried to move it. His head was killing him.
He opened his eyes and was face to face with a little black bear.
"'H'phaestus?" The name came out scratchy and almost none-existent. He tried to sit up, but his stomach lurched. Even so, he struggled to an upright position, and looked around the dim room. He pulled off his blanket and found his leg in a bulky, white cast, which had been doodled on in multi-colored sharpie pens.
He squinted to read the different styles of handwriting, and made out the names "Luke" and "Lorelei." A large message had been printed on another part of it, but all he could see were the words "Love, Mom." In giant, loopy handwriting on the side of the cast were the words "I LOVE YOU! -Rory."
Rory.
She was all he could remember from right before the accident… and a couple of passages from 'Oliver Twist' that were stuck in his head for no particular reason, but that didn't matter much.
He slowly swung his legs over the side of the bed, hissing in pain. He ached all over. His head spun, but he had to get up, for no other reason than he knew he probably wasn't supposed to.
How long had he been asleep? What happened to his car? Where in god's green earth was he?
He hoisted himself to his feet, and almost immediately fell over, but he grabbed the wall, and sighed, cursing in his horse voice. He began to hobble towards the door.
"God, I need a cigarette."
*****
She carried her old copy of Oliver Twist in both hands, looking numbly around the dull hospital. Everything looked, and smelled clean. The windows in the waiting room she passed let in very little light, as they were all in the shadow of the huge establishment. Voices muttered from the rooms she passed, none of the inhabitants or their visitors noticed her as she walked.
As she came closer to her destination, she heard something she didn't expect.
"Get off of me, lady!"
She stopped dead in her tracks. She couldn't hear what the nurse was saying, but the young man's voice rang out loud and clear. Her heart pounded with his every word.
"I don't care! What part of 'get off of me' don't you understand?!"
She finally started walking again, but it quickly turned into a run. She rounded the corner and stopped again when she took in the scene.
He was hobbling on his good leg, holding onto the doorframe of his room with both of his bandaged hands. The nurse, who was much smaller than her patient, was trying gently to take him by the shoulders and guide him back to his bed.
"Jess, please," the nurse said.
"I've been asleep for two weeks!" Jess yelled. "I'm not lying down anymore!"
Rory just stared.
Jess Mariano.
Awake, and righteously angry. More fiery than ever.
She'd never seen him so beautiful.
She dropped her book.
The thump it made on the gray carpeted floor got both Jess and the nurse's attention. They looked over at her.
"Rory," he said softly. He tried to hobble to her, but lost his balance almost immediately.
She rushed forward to him before he could hit the ground, and tried to catch him but he wound up taking her to the floor with him. He was half on top of her, but she didn't move. She only stared at him in shock.
He stared up into her eyes, not sure what to say, not able to run from her as he had. Not only in body, but in mind as well. "Rory," he said again. He spotted the book on the floor. No wonder he'd had those god-damned passages stuck in his head!
He looked back at her, and all she could do was stare in shock. No words. She looked as if she was barely breathing. Her skin was pale. He could feel her shaking underneath him, as he had her half-pinned to the floor. He couldn't really get up. He wasn't sure he wanted to.
A million thoughts ran through her head. She should cry. She should hit him. She should yell, or quote Shakespeare. Something.
But all she could do was kiss him.
He felt like crap. Complete, utter, undeniable crap.
Stiff, sore, dizzy. Something stung in his left hand as he tried to move it. His head was killing him.
He opened his eyes and was face to face with a little black bear.
"'H'phaestus?" The name came out scratchy and almost none-existent. He tried to sit up, but his stomach lurched. Even so, he struggled to an upright position, and looked around the dim room. He pulled off his blanket and found his leg in a bulky, white cast, which had been doodled on in multi-colored sharpie pens.
He squinted to read the different styles of handwriting, and made out the names "Luke" and "Lorelei." A large message had been printed on another part of it, but all he could see were the words "Love, Mom." In giant, loopy handwriting on the side of the cast were the words "I LOVE YOU! -Rory."
Rory.
She was all he could remember from right before the accident… and a couple of passages from 'Oliver Twist' that were stuck in his head for no particular reason, but that didn't matter much.
He slowly swung his legs over the side of the bed, hissing in pain. He ached all over. His head spun, but he had to get up, for no other reason than he knew he probably wasn't supposed to.
How long had he been asleep? What happened to his car? Where in god's green earth was he?
He hoisted himself to his feet, and almost immediately fell over, but he grabbed the wall, and sighed, cursing in his horse voice. He began to hobble towards the door.
"God, I need a cigarette."
*****
She carried her old copy of Oliver Twist in both hands, looking numbly around the dull hospital. Everything looked, and smelled clean. The windows in the waiting room she passed let in very little light, as they were all in the shadow of the huge establishment. Voices muttered from the rooms she passed, none of the inhabitants or their visitors noticed her as she walked.
As she came closer to her destination, she heard something she didn't expect.
"Get off of me, lady!"
She stopped dead in her tracks. She couldn't hear what the nurse was saying, but the young man's voice rang out loud and clear. Her heart pounded with his every word.
"I don't care! What part of 'get off of me' don't you understand?!"
She finally started walking again, but it quickly turned into a run. She rounded the corner and stopped again when she took in the scene.
He was hobbling on his good leg, holding onto the doorframe of his room with both of his bandaged hands. The nurse, who was much smaller than her patient, was trying gently to take him by the shoulders and guide him back to his bed.
"Jess, please," the nurse said.
"I've been asleep for two weeks!" Jess yelled. "I'm not lying down anymore!"
Rory just stared.
Jess Mariano.
Awake, and righteously angry. More fiery than ever.
She'd never seen him so beautiful.
She dropped her book.
The thump it made on the gray carpeted floor got both Jess and the nurse's attention. They looked over at her.
"Rory," he said softly. He tried to hobble to her, but lost his balance almost immediately.
She rushed forward to him before he could hit the ground, and tried to catch him but he wound up taking her to the floor with him. He was half on top of her, but she didn't move. She only stared at him in shock.
He stared up into her eyes, not sure what to say, not able to run from her as he had. Not only in body, but in mind as well. "Rory," he said again. He spotted the book on the floor. No wonder he'd had those god-damned passages stuck in his head!
He looked back at her, and all she could do was stare in shock. No words. She looked as if she was barely breathing. Her skin was pale. He could feel her shaking underneath him, as he had her half-pinned to the floor. He couldn't really get up. He wasn't sure he wanted to.
A million thoughts ran through her head. She should cry. She should hit him. She should yell, or quote Shakespeare. Something.
But all she could do was kiss him.