Vlad walked through the hospital's two glass sliding doors and into the cleanly polished but tastelessly decorated reception area. The couches were a dull white, their side tables littered with week old (or perhaps longer) magazines, and a plastic plant with unnaturally dark green leaves sat in a corner collecting dust. Vlad walked up to the receptionists' desk. Behind it sat a young, pretty nurse with short hair that framed her face perfectly. Her small fingers typed on the keyboard of the computer in front of her intensely, her manicured fingernails clicking with each key she pressed. When she saw him out of the corner of her eye, she glanced up.
"How may I help you, sir?" she asked softly and politely. She studied him and smiled. "…Mayor Masters."
Vlad had never much cared for the attention of his adoring fans, but being that he felt it was his duty as mayor, he smiled back at her. "Would you like an autograph, my dear?" he asked devotedly.
Her smile widened. "Thank you very much, but I think I'll save my paper for Bob Dylan."
Vlad chuckled and shook his head, his eyes closed. "I'm hurt," he said playfully, grasping his heart.
"Well, you are in a hospital."
They smiled at each other, and she said, "But I assume you didn't come here for yourself."
"That's correct. Under the circumstances, I feel guilty to be joking like this. I've come to see—"
"Daniel Fenton?"
"How did you know?" he asked, dismayed.
"He was the one you brought up to thank for encouraging you to pursue a career in politics when you gave your acceptance speech in front of the town. It was because you wanted to protect him you put all those restrictions on the kids."
"Oh… I did, didn't I?"
"Yes. I thought you might be in to visit him since it seemed to me you cared so much about him."
"So I see."
"I think I can get you in to see him," she said, typing on her keyboard and staring at the monitor. "You came during visiting hours, of course, but the medications he's taking induce drowsiness. He might not be awake right now."
"I see."
"I'll have someone check on him and we'll see. Why don't you have a seat?"
He smiled. "Thank you, my dear."
Vlad took a seat, picked up a magazine without much interest in reading it, and waited.
Danny Fenton was just beginning to emerge from a deep, unnatural sleep of painkillers and whatever the hell else they were putting in him. He slowly pulled open his heavy eyelids and was greeted with the usual blurred view of his dull, dimly-lit hospital bedroom. He let out a soft moan as the pain began to return (that was, if it had ever left) and the drugs wore off. He felt incredibly dizzy, and he wanted to vomit. His head was aching.
The door opened slowly, and the nurse who'd been taking care of him popped her head in. "Danny?" she asked quietly, hoping not to wake him if he was asleep.
"What…?" he slurred sleepily.
"Oh!" she said cheerfully, and pushed the door open. "You're awake."
"Yeah," he sighed, woken by her shrill, grating voice, annoyed by her usual artificial exuberance. "What?"
"I have great news! You have a visitor!"
Danny's eyes widened hopefully but in disbelief. "I do?"
"Yes. He's on his up now." She turned and started to walk out of the room.
"Wait. Who's my visitor?"
She turned back around and smiled at him. "Our mayor, Vlad Masters."
She left and closed the door behind her, and Danny only stared at where she'd disappeared, his face frozen in horror.