Day 32: Intercom, Noon

May 20, 2008 00:34

Instead of the expected over-cheery male tone, the patients were given a change in the form of a much flatter, female one ( Read more... )

chopper, toboe, sakura, renamon, iroh, intercom, yuna, shawn, rude, fwiffo, melissa, bennet, matt, mori

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whohitreset May 20 2008, 08:29:47 UTC
Matt woke up to find himself on his stomach with his nose buried in his pillow amidst a small but but steadily growing puddle of drool. He made a disgusted noise and shoved the pillow off the bed before rolling over onto his back and staring blearily at the blur that was his ceiling. Only half awake still, he flailed wearily to the side of the bed with one hand in the hopes of making contact with his glasses - the pair he kept handy for when he couldn't be bothered with anything else.

His hand failed to locate even the bedside table, however, instead smacking hard into a piece of furniture that most certainly hadn't been there the last time he checked. "Ow!" He grumbled, put off by this development, and sat up to glare at the shape of what could only be a small dresser. He didn't own a dresser.

"The hell?" He squinted around the sparsely decorated room. Not his room for sure - far too clean. A bit hospital like, actually. But what would he be doing in...

The sound of gunshots rang through his head and he sat up abruptly, feeling the side of his head and pulling up his shirt. He expected to see dark holes in his flesh, possibly still bleeding, but there was nothing. When he ran his hand across his chest it came away clean, and his fingers found no trace of so much as a scar that hadn't been there before. If this was a hospital, had it managed to fix him up that well? Had the extent of the damage he thought he'd received been just in his imagination?

It had been so real, though. He could still hear the clang of the slugs ricocheting off the hood of his car. So he didn't understand what was going on. He hated that feeling.

But first, in order to get a start on finding out anything, he needed to be able to see properly. For that, he needed his contacts or, less preferably, his glasses. He felt around on top of the dresser, and was finally rewarded with something definitely spectacle shaped. Holding them close, he could tell they weren't his. In fact, they were pretty thick-rimmed and dorky looking, but he tried them on anyway and was surprised to find that the prescription matched his own. He'd just managed a better look around the room when the door open and a distinctly nurse-like woman walked in.

"Oh good, Miles. You're awake!" she exclaimed far too cheerfully, setting down a small pile of gray clothing that most assuredly wasn't his. There was no one else in the room, so she had to be referring to him. The name was dangerously close to his real one and yet wasn't, so he said nothing to let her know this bothered him.

"Um. Yeah." He played along, pulling open a top drawer and seeing nothing resembling his contact case. Surely the hospital had some of his personal belongings? "You don't know where me contacts are, do you?" he asked in the most polite tone he could manage.

The nurse gave him a pitying look and he decided right away that he wanted to put in for a different one if at all possible. "I'm sorry, I'm afraid we don't have any contacts for you right now. Your glasses are perfectly cute, though!"

"These?" Matt pointed to the ugly lenses and gave her a look that clearly questioned her taste.

"Yes, don't you like them? I picked them out myself!" And then she giggled, and Matt winced. When she started to babble on about breakfast, he tuned her out and just let her lead on. He needed to figure things out, and he needed to do it quick.

Plan one, find out what happened to Mello. If things had gone through properly, chances were slim that he was still alive.

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