Reefside Hospital - Inpatient Unit, Rm. 210
Hayley, Tommy had decided sometime during the years they had spent at school together, was much like the older sister that he had never had. The kind he'd seen in some of the films that Kim and Kat had liked, a girl who was fiercely protective of her little brother and at the same time bullied him into doing what was best for him, no matter whether or not it was what he wanted.
She'd let him give the team their debriefing and express his gratitude for their support in the Lair, but that had been the end of her leniency.
To that end, he's back at Reefside Hospital, though given the short length of his coma and a recovery that had been so fast as to be dubbed "miraculous," he's been transferred from the ICU to the inpatient unit. Still, the nurses do check on him with more frequency than they do their other charges. After all, most people don't just snap in and out of consciousness like that, so perhaps understandably they're worried that he's going to go back under as quickly as he came out of things.
The bed, while cushy in comparison to some of the places he's had to sleep over the years (field cots and sleeping bags spread over rocks, for example), is not his bed or even one where he feels remotely comfortable. He's never liked hospitals; Hayley said that the doctors were planning on letting him go in a couple days if his tests kept coming back negative for complications, but that doesn't mean he's really going to like being here. He's a Ranger, and besides that, he wants to go back to school. He misses teaching; it's taken being gone for a month for him to realise just how much he loves it, how important it is.
He's drained as well; staying in Morphed form, followed by the trials of the shock, the coma, the evolution of his Powers and the four battles he had to fight, one real and three so vivid they might well have been, took out much of the energy he had left. He can't seem to regain his strength here.
Tommy just wishes he could rest in his own bed, rather than in this sterile place, surrounded by quietly humming and beeping machines, with IVs and tubes sticking out of him like freaky straws. He flops back on his pillows and sighs, drained but not exactly tired. Just very, very bored and, he decides lamely, lonely.
Near-death experiences seriously put things in perspective.
-Fucking hospital.-
She'd let him give the team their debriefing and express his gratitude for their support in the Lair, but that had been the end of her leniency.
To that end, he's back at Reefside Hospital, though given the short length of his coma and a recovery that had been so fast as to be dubbed "miraculous," he's been transferred from the ICU to the inpatient unit. Still, the nurses do check on him with more frequency than they do their other charges. After all, most people don't just snap in and out of consciousness like that, so perhaps understandably they're worried that he's going to go back under as quickly as he came out of things.
The bed, while cushy in comparison to some of the places he's had to sleep over the years (field cots and sleeping bags spread over rocks, for example), is not his bed or even one where he feels remotely comfortable. He's never liked hospitals; Hayley said that the doctors were planning on letting him go in a couple days if his tests kept coming back negative for complications, but that doesn't mean he's really going to like being here. He's a Ranger, and besides that, he wants to go back to school. He misses teaching; it's taken being gone for a month for him to realise just how much he loves it, how important it is.
He's drained as well; staying in Morphed form, followed by the trials of the shock, the coma, the evolution of his Powers and the four battles he had to fight, one real and three so vivid they might well have been, took out much of the energy he had left. He can't seem to regain his strength here.
Tommy just wishes he could rest in his own bed, rather than in this sterile place, surrounded by quietly humming and beeping machines, with IVs and tubes sticking out of him like freaky straws. He flops back on his pillows and sighs, drained but not exactly tired. Just very, very bored and, he decides lamely, lonely.
Near-death experiences seriously put things in perspective.
-Fucking hospital.-