In which Mike is drugged
Mike was pretty sure that if he wasn't on a little bit of drugs right now, he would be hurting like a bitch. But he was on drugs, which made things so much easier. He came out of sleep with things still feeling a little hazy, but he was rather enjoying that light, floaty feeling that morphine gave him.
It took a few minutes of him staring at the ceiling before he actually turned his head to the side and spotted his father, asleep in the chair next to his bed. He wished he had a watch, fleetingly, so that he could tell what time it was and how off his sleep schedule was, but for the moment he was content to let that go. Instead, he flopped his hand around for a minute, inching towards the edge of his bed to poke Sam, even though he knew he wasn't going to be able to reach.
He knew that he should probably let the man sleep as well, but hey -- he was up. Someone had to entertain him.
He eventually gave up on the poking and settled for using his voice, which was slightly more convenient, doing his best to keep it low enough to not wake Devon.
"Dad," he hissed. "Dad -- wake up."
It took a few minutes of him staring at the ceiling before he actually turned his head to the side and spotted his father, asleep in the chair next to his bed. He wished he had a watch, fleetingly, so that he could tell what time it was and how off his sleep schedule was, but for the moment he was content to let that go. Instead, he flopped his hand around for a minute, inching towards the edge of his bed to poke Sam, even though he knew he wasn't going to be able to reach.
He knew that he should probably let the man sleep as well, but hey -- he was up. Someone had to entertain him.
He eventually gave up on the poking and settled for using his voice, which was slightly more convenient, doing his best to keep it low enough to not wake Devon.
"Dad," he hissed. "Dad -- wake up."