Okay, I like to have some humorous character in my fics to balance out everything else. Here's my funny character. I finished this while watching Fiddler on the Roof. I love that play. I need to make a fic for it. :3

Oh, ja, Quaritch will not talk for a long time. And ya'll get some highlights of the quirk in the clone. It's very tiny. But it is there. I want to see if anyone can catch it.

Awakening

2

Quaritch blinked, his vision blurry. He liked his eyes closed. It was comforting. The clone closed his eyes, seeing darkness behind his eyelids. When he opened them again, there was a blurry figure before him, flashing a light before his face. Quaritch groaned, closing his eyes once more. He did not want someone flashing light in his eyes.

"Miles," called a woman's voice.

The voice was distant. It echoed in his mind. His memories appeared to him. They were fuzzy, and out of place. What had happened to him? Where was he at?

"Miles, open your eyes," the woman called to him. "Open your eyes."

Do I have to? the colonel grumbled mentally. But he only grumbled in real life.

He felt hands upon his body. He was too weak to open his eyes again. Quaritch felt his body move from the surface he was on and onto another surface. He then heard another voice. It was male:

"Will he be okay?"

Another male answered him: "Yes, his body is just going through shock." There was a slight pause. "He just needs rest."

Quaritch groaned again. It was deep and throaty. Time was dizzy. Time was fuzzy. The colonel could not place where he was at. All he knew was that he was in a building. His body was lifted again, and placed on a plush surface. Quaritch felt blankets cover his body, and his head was placed on a soft pillow. There were those voices once more:

"When will he—ya know, heal?"

"A few days he'll be bedridden," the second voice answered. "He should be able to see by tomorrow. It might be a while before he talks or walks."

Who are these people? he thought to himself. He felt something plastic press against his mouth, and fresh air filled his lungs. One sounds familiar, he though. Selfridge?

There was a sound of a shoe tapping on hard flooring. "Fine, I just want him up and running soon," the voice that sounded like Selfridge stated roughly.

"We can't push him," warned the other voice. There was a pause and then some whispering.

Quaritch tried his hardest to listen in on the faint voices. But it was drowned out by the beating of his heart, and the sound of his breathing. He soon gave up, and then there was nothing.

His world was white and fuzzy. The next morning, the clone focused his eyes. He saw a plan white wall. Quaritch groaned—that was all he was able to do. Everything soon was clear. He saw that he was hooked up to several machines, one checking his heart rate, and the other checking whether his breathing was normal or not. To the right of him was another machine. It displayed his brain, showing that there was nothing wrong with it. Quaritch groaned, pressing his head against the obnoxiously white pillow behind him. There were no windows in the room he was in—just a single door, which was closed. It was also white.

What the hell? Is everything in this damn place white? he asked himself mentally.

Just then, a woman with a white lab coat entered. His dark eyes landed on her, and she glanced up from her clipboard. She was a pretty woman. Her hair was brown, her skin fair, and her eyes a stunning blue, balancing out the non-coloured room. The woman smiled widely at him.

"You're awake!" she stated, beaming at him.

No shit, sweetheart, he thought.

The nurse scuttled over to the computer monitors, checking his status. Quaritch watched her with lazy eyes. Another nurse came over, however, he was male. An Indian male. He was scribbling on his clipboard, glancing at the clone. His eyes were green, and he smiled like that jolly fat bastard called Santa.

"Hey, sir, welcome back to the home team," the Indian man. He turned to the other nurse. "Hey, Kitty, I'll handle things from here."

Kitty smiled. "Yes, Doc," she stated, walking away.

The woman left the room, and the Indian man watched Kitty leave. The male nurse glanced up and down her body, smiling. "Man, I need me some of that," the male nurse exclaimed.

He turned to Quaritch, who looked at the Indian man like he was funny. The clone narrowed his eyes at the man. The Indian man smiled broadly at him. "Sorry, but you saw that she was very hot, right?" he inquired, pointing at the door from where the woman was once at.

What's this bastard smoking?

Quaritch was silent, staring at the Indian man like he was mad. The male nurse laughed. "Okay, okay," he stated. "Let me introduce myself: I am Rajian. I'll be your physical therapist."

Quaritch blinked, his mouth still. Rajian frowned. He knew that Quaritch was a clone, and he was given certain orders not to tell him anything that could lead him to finding out the truth. The Indian man scribbled on his clipboard as the clone tried his hardest to sit up. The physical therapist rushed to the aid of the clone, helping him fully sit up. Quaritch felt weak.

I can't do shit for myself, he thought with a growl.

"There ya go," Rajian stated with a smile.

Quaritch leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. The clone reached up and rubbed at his chin. That was when he realized that whatever was covering his face had been removed. Quaritch sighed deeply, closing his eyes.

"Miles," Rajian called.

The colonel turned to the nurse, blankly staring at him. Was that his name? Miles?

"Can you talk?"

Quaritch was silent.

"I take that as a no," Rajian stated, scribbling on his clipboard. "That's normal. You might not be able to talk for a while."

The clone stared with a stunned face towards the male nurse. Ah, great, he thought to himself. I'm going to be a damn mute.

Rajian checked over his monitors, writing down what he saw. "You seem just fine an' dandy," the Indian man stated.

Quaritch swung his legs over the side of the hospital bed, growling as his toes touched the cold floor. Shivers ran up his legs and up his spine until it reached the base of his head. The male nurse glanced at the clone, surprised to see the clone move. Rajian threw his clipboard at the desk, rushing over to the side of the bed.

"You're in no condition to move!" the man cried, his hands at the clone's shoulders.

Quaritch glared daggers at the man that stood before him. Rajian stepped back, his hands up. "Okay, okay," he breathed.

The clone bent forward, grunting, trying his best to stand up. When he did stand, he lost balance, and collapsed on the bed. Rajian rested his hands back on the colonel's shoulders. "Don't strain yourself," he gently told the clone. "You could hurt yourself."

Quaritch growled again, laying back onto the bed. He felt so weak and pathetic. His memories were clouded. He could not even remember his name. The colonel laid back onto the bed, gripping the blankets tightly. The door suddenly opened. A man that Quaritch recognized stood there. A name suddenly came to him.

Selfridge.

The business man walked over to the side of the bed. "Look who's up," Selfridge stated, resting his hands on the railing of the bed. "Do you know who you are?"

Quaritch shook his head solemnly.

"You are Colonel Miles Quaritch," Selfridge stated blandly. He turned to the male nurse. "How is he?" he demanded.

"Well, his condition is stable," Rajian stated, flipping through his papers. He showed the clipboard to the business man, who snapped it away from the Indian man.

Parker flipped through the papers, his eyes shifting from one side to the next, taking in all the information. He glanced up at the male nurse. "When will he be able to talk?" he inquired sharply, thrusting the clipboard to the man.

Quaritch did not like this Selfridge. He could respect Rajian a little more. The Indian male nurse took the clipboard. "I'm not sure," he whispered. "It depends on how he feels."

Parker stared at the man next to him. His gaze then landed on the still clone. Quaritch narrowed his grey-blue eyes at the man before him. The rich business man then snorted, turning back to the male nurse. "I want him better in a month," he ordered, then left to stand near the doorframe. "And you know why," Parker snarled softly.

He opened the door, and then closed it. What did that mean? Quaritch stared at the door for a few seconds before looking at Rajian, who sighed. "In always such a big rush," he whispered. "Business men. He should know it takes a long time for a person to heal."

You got that right, damn it, the clone thought. He reached up and rubbed his temples.

Rajian then offered a smile to the clone. "Forget about him," he told Quaritch. The male nurse scribbled on his clipboard, writing down the new numbers he saw on the computer screen. The clone glanced at what he was writing down. But Rajian quickly jolted his clipboard up, not wanting Quaritch to read what he wrote. The colonel glared at the man.

What the shit is his damn problem?

Quaritch shook his head, and fell back against his bed.

"I suggest you sleep now," the nurse told the colonel. He clipped his pen to one of the two breast pockets that his clean white coat had. "Sleep well."

He went over to the door, and soon was gone. Quaritch stared at the painfully white door, before allowing a growl to pass his lips. His limbs ached, and his brain throbbed. He pressed his back to the bed, and gazed at his arms. Tiny and large scars danced on his limbs. He was a soldier. It made sense that he would have a few scars. His fingers ran across his head. He felt three jagged lumps on the right side of his cranium. Quaritch's eyes narrowed, and his fingers followed the lines. He had scars there too?

Crap, what sort of shit did I do? he thought to himself.

He then only grumbled, but no words formed. Why could he not talk? He turned into his bed, waiting to fall asleep. His mind was filled with distorted memories. In those memories he saw huge blue creatures baring arrows and bows. They were tall, tailed, and strong. One word entered his mind:

Na'vi.

He remembered attacking them, killing them, hurting them. Quaritch shivered. How could he do that to such beautiful and kind creatures? He growled, closing his eyes, seeing the horrified face of a female Na'vi behind his eyelids. Her skin was alive and blue, and her eyes were wide in fear.

She was so afraid.

She was screaming.

What kind of a person was he?

He was a soldier. That was all.