Once they're sure Murdoc is rested and comfortable after the shock of waking up from a week long coma, the hospital sends a psychologist in to speak with him. Given the nature of his condition, there's some understandable worry that he may have been trying to take his own life. Ethics demand that the hospital staff test the boy's mental and
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He curls into his chair (funny how it's become 'his' chair) with a weary sigh. "Could be worse, you know..." He'd hate to be in AA himself, but he can certainly think of worse outcomes. He wraps his arms around himself; he's been very cold lately. "Yeah, they said you could use a computer. I can bring yours from home if you want, but they'll let you use one til then."
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Muds knows there are worse things than AA. That's why he opted for that. A few weeks of promising that Jesus has shown you the light and you'll never drink or do drugs again beats the hell out of sitting in a padded room forever and ever.
"D'you want this jello? Orange is fucking nasty. If you don't want it, they're just gonna throw all this out. I've eaten everything that counts as food."
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He has to think about the offer for a moment. He's not really hungry but he knows he has to eat something sooner or later. And he might be able to keep jello down, at least for a while. "Yeah, okay..." He'll probably poke at it, mostly, but a few bites are better than nothing.
He takes the cup, and yeah, there's some poking of the jello involved before he eats a spoonful. "...so...uhm. D'you know when they're lettin you outta here?" He'd really like his bed soon.
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"They said they have to see me walk around and check my heart rate some more, but I can prob'ly go tomorrow night or the next day." Muds smiles a bit, really wanting the hell out of this bed. He doesn't do well with confinement unless it's voluntary.
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Han gives a relieved sigh and an almost smile at the news. "Oh god, that's great. I'm so sick of this fuckin place." He eats another spoonful of jello, far more slowly than anybody really should eat jello. "I'm...uhm. I'm glad you're doin better, kid. I was worried."
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Muds tries to sit up more or get some comfortable position that isn't staring at the ceiling, but it seems impossible.
"Sorry I worried you. At least I'll soon have Jesus in my life to set me straight."
He laughs and fidgets with his empty soda can. They'd only let him have one and it was gone in an instant.
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He laughs harder at his brother's new friend Jesus. "You'll be Saved before you know it."
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"I thought I was Saved on other time, but it turned out to just be gas."
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"The Lord works in mysterious ways, you know."
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He hits the button that angles the back of the bed up so he can sit, while simultaneously crushing his spine.
"So does the Taco Bell half-pound burrito. When you consider that Jesus has a Mexican name, it all starts to come together."
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"So does this mean we'll go to heaven for a #4 combo?"
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He laughs and pulls his knees up against himself.
"Shit. I'd go to hell for a #4 combo right the fuck now."
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"I'll get you one when you're out, okay? And you can eat it on the couch." This seems like a fantastic plan, as far as he's concerned.
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"That sounds fucking perfect. Let's go home now."
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"Not now, you know that. Later. When they say you can leave. I can't deal with it if you decide to die in the apartment or something."
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"Yeah yeah. I know. And shut up... I'm not dying." If he failed at it already, then fuck it. He'll live forever or something and the world can suffer for it.
Another frayed hole is worked through the sheets and he slams his hands down on the bed.
"That's it. I'm makin' the nurse bring me a computer or something before I take the room apart. Besides, yer gonna pass out on me." He hits the call button.
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