CHAPTER 5
A man dressed in all white, which he initially thought was a doctor but soon decided otherwise, joined the growing population of visitors.
"Hawke, glad to see you up."
"Not exactly up yet."
"Knowing you, you will be soon." He was actually surprised Hawke hadn't already attempted some form of escape despite his weak condition. "I'm sure they'll have you in physical therapy and up on your own in no time."
He sure hoped so. He had only been awake a little while and he was already getting tired of being in the hospital.
But what would he do when he did get out? Did he have a job? A family? What kind of car did he drive? Question after question bombarded him, but still he had no answers.
Dr. Rutherford joined the growing group in String's room. "I heard my patient has decided to show some signs of life after all."
"So I've been told, but now that you mention it, I am getting kind of tired again."
"You think you could be up to me asking a few questions first? Last time I let you sleep you didn't wake up for nearly four weeks."
"Alright I guess I can manage that.".
"So honestly, how do you feel?" Rutherford inquired.
"Like a snake bit, broke legged, gut shot dog draggin' nine suckin' puppies uphill."
Rutherford quirked an eyebrow in amusement.
Saint John, leaning against a counter raised startled hazel eyes. "You're what?"
"How the heck do you think I feel?" he rasped hoarsely. "My assumption from what Caitlin told me was that someone tried to blow me up."
"What is the last thing you remember?" Rutherford asked, continuing his interrogation.
"Nothing in particular. Occasionally I remember little things but most things are just a big blank."
"Amnesia maybe?"
"Aren't you supposed to be the one diagnosing?"
"Humor me."
"Maybe, I'd rather think I got hit over the head rather than I'm loosing my mind.
It's just so frustrating, I don't know these people but they know me. They love and care for me but I can't do the same because I don't even know who they are, I don't even know myself…" he trailed off as he started to doze again.
"Get some rest, Hawke," he said quietly as he left the room.
\A/
"How are you today?" Caitlin asked as she entered the room.
"A little better," he lied. "Doctor has me on a bunch of meds for the pain, I'm getting physical therapy everyday and they want to send me to some shrink. He says I'm regaining my strength pretty fast all things considered."
"Don't you agree? I admit, I don't know how you feel but you do look a lot better."
"I don't know; maybe a little, but I don't know what to think; I-I just don't know."
"It'll be ok. We will work through it together, I promise."
That sounded vaguely familiar, admittedly, he was still here and she still cared so they must have worked something out.
He offered a weak smile. "Alright, I'll try, that is, assuming the doctors don't kill me in rehab first."
\A/
"Yeah, Le has been doing pretty well. Actually, he's watching TV back in the office now, be sure to tell String for me."
"I'm not sure it would help much," Caitlin replied ruefully. "He still hardly remembers anything. He's still trying to get used to the fact we are married and hasn't mentioned the hangar, Le, or even chance at all. The doctors hold out hope that everything will come back in time but nothing is written in stone and it has been a while…"
"Still planning on bringing him home soon?"
"Just as soon as the doctor lets me," Cait promised, "and I'll see about getting back to the hangar again soon; I guess it has been a rather long lunch break."
"And you haven't even eaten lunch yet, have you?"
"No," Caitlin admitted, "I guess I haven't."
"Don't worry about getting back here right away. Just bring my boy back in as close to one piece as possible and hurry up with it."
"Alright, alright," Caitlin answered. "I'll see what I can do."
\A/
Silently Hawke waited. He knew he had been at the hospital at least a week or two since waking up, but how long had he been out of it? Long enough to make some people incredibly worried. However long, he had been here long enough and he was sure it was about time he escaped this place; he also knew there was no possible way he would make it without some help.
He counted the methodical beeps of the machine beside him to pass the time. Last time he had even made it to three hundred and fifty before falling asleep. Admittedly, it wasn't a very exciting pastime, but there wasn't anything good to watch on TV and other than a short visit from Dom the other day, he hadn't had any visitors. Even the nurses weren't coming by as often now that he was pretty well stabilized.
Sometimes he would just sit back and think, but he didn't have much to think about. He just did things, not recalling how he did them, and people were just a blur in his mind. Caitlin, Dom, and Saint John the only ones vaguely sticking out, and even then only what he had found out recently.
Glancing up at the clock once again, he sighed heavily. Its second hand lagged slowly around the clock's face, mocking him, mocking him for every second he had to spend in this neutral colored nightmare. Trauma center yes, he was going to be even more traumatized after he got out of here, if he ever got out.
One thing was for sure, one way or another if he didn't get out of here soon they would have to transfer him up to the psych ward.