The Death March: Part Twenty-Four
Title: The Death March
Part: Twenty-Four: The Healing
Previously: Prologue | One | Two | Three| Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten | Eleven | Twelve | Thirteen | Fourteen | Fifteen | Sixteen | Seventeen | Eighteen | Nineteen | Twenty | Twenty-One | Twenty-Two | Twenty - Three
Note: doug_ramsey and tm_northstar used with permission.
Note 2: A very big thank you daughterof_evil for playing a part of the Death March plot. *mwahs* Thanks also to Peter!mun and Nathan!mun for letting us borrow your boys. :)
***
PART ONE: (Written by daughterof_evil.) In which a comatose John is visited by Sasha Hoffman (daughterof_evil), who injects him some of Claire Bennet's (im_afreakshow) healing blood. (Peter Petrelli (mybrothershadow) and Nathan Petrelli (vote4nathan) also make an appearance, with permission.)
***
Part Two:
About an hour later...
John was brought to conscious because he was trying to cough, but it was too hard because there was something in his mouth. What the fuck? he thought, because he couldn't speak the actual words at the moment.
He reached up to his mouth, and found a tube there, and pulled it out, taking a big gasping breath as he was free to breath on his own. His fingers found some tubes in his nose too, and he tugged that out too.
His eyes opened, and he blinked twice, trying to clear the blurriness. It didn't take much. His head lifted from the pillow and he looked around, frowning. "What the fuck?" he said out loud. The brief soreness he felt in his throat because of the tube being pulled out was gone now, and the words came out clear.
A hospital room. He was in a hospital room? What the fuck for? He had his cure now, he was all better.
His memory brushed briefly on his travels home, and the airport. He'd seen Doug and JP. And they looked worried for him, kept asking him if he was okay. Well, if this hospital room was any indication, he had not been.
But now? Now, he felt fucking fantastic.
He finished pulling all the tubes off of him, pulled the IV out of his hand, and threw the covers off, getting out of bed. It took all of 2.3 seconds for two nurses to come rushing into the room, called by the beeping of machines gone wrong (but only because they weren't hooked up anymore.)
They froze in their tracks and their mouths dropped as they saw the young man standing there, looking quite unimpressed with the hospital gown he was clutching together at the small of his back.
"Where the fuck are my clothes?"
Several minutes later, he was finally dressed in the dirty, worn clothes he'd worn on the last stretch of his Death March, after much arguing. Those clothes were what he was in when he ended up in the hospital. The t-shirt still had a big hole burned through the middle of the chest; however, the skin underneath it was smooth and burn-free. So was the burn he had on his hand. And his skin had a healthy glow to it again, no longer pale and bruised. Even his hair had regained it's warm, rich brown rather then the awful faded mess it had become when the Death March began to take it's toll.
Even the doctor, who insisted on checking him out, was surprised with the strength of his heartbeat and how perfect his blood pressure read.
"That's because I'm cured," John explained, though he knew the doctor wouldn't get it, or understand why. And he didn't.
He was just in a heated argument with the doctor about not going under any more tests or evaluations and just checking himself the fuck out of this stupid hospital when Doug and JP came to the window of the hospital room, holding cups of coffee they'd bought at the cafe across the street, where they'd been sitting the last hour or so as they gave John's visitor some space. They hadn't seen a glimpse of her since she first arrived (and John didn't even know yet that she'd been there) and now, here was John, dressed and standing and arguing, as if nothing was wrong. As if he hadn't been in a coma for a couple days. As if he hadn't spend the last two and a half months dying.
John saw them, and a smile broke across his face. He completely ignored the doctor, and dashed into the hallway so quickly he nearly slipped on the floor, but he righted himself quickly and regained composure. They stood there, staring at him. John noticed that they looked tired, dark circles under their eyes, pale skin, and...
John grinned. "Fuck, you guys look like shit."
Doug rushed into John's arms, and John laughed, squeezing him tight around the waist and lifting him up from the floor, spinning him around. JP whizzed in and grabbed Doug's coffee, so he wouldn't spill it all over them, and Doug laughed as he put his arms around John's neck. When John finally put him down, they kissed deeply. When John pulled away, he smirked - his smirk. His I'm-Fucking-Better-Then-Everyone-Because-I'm-Pyro smirk, one that had been missing for much too long.
"I'm cured," he said.
Doug grinned. "So I see."
John glanced over to see JP standing to the side, the coffee cups having been placed on the stupid hard orange plastic of a chair. He was quiet, and John couldn't really read his face, he looked so blank and reserved. So unlike JP. "Oh, get over here," John said, rolling his eyes.
Less then a second later, JP had his arms wrapped around John in a tight hug, and John hugged back just as tight. "It's about fucking time," John said, tugging on a stand of JP's hair, which was recently cut. Shit, how long had John been out of it? His best friend had a new makeover or some shit like that. JP just snorted into John's neck.
John pulled away, and grabbed Doug's hand. "Okay, let's get the hell out of here. I'm fucking starving. Let's go for breakfast."
ooc: ALMOST DONE! Will have one public post, then that is IT for the Death March. Regarding this part, I couldn't fit it into the flow of this piece, but John, JP, and Doug would have had a discussion about Sasha's brief visit, the two mentioning that she showed up, but John never did see her. HOWEVER - John would have not suspected Sasha of anything because A) she doesn't have powers, B) her fiance, Peter Petrelli , hasn't had his powers for a few months and John knows this, and C) NO ONE knows about Claire and/or Nathan. They wouldn't have pieced it together, because they don't have the right knowledge, and no one else should either. (Since we don't want to ruin the plot that they have worked out for their characters. Hahaha, PLOTS COLLIDE.) The boys would have come to the conclusion that it was a delayed reaction to the magic curing and healing his body.
Part: Twenty-Four: The Healing
Previously: Prologue | One | Two | Three| Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten | Eleven | Twelve | Thirteen | Fourteen | Fifteen | Sixteen | Seventeen | Eighteen | Nineteen | Twenty | Twenty-One | Twenty-Two | Twenty - Three
Note: doug_ramsey and tm_northstar used with permission.
Note 2: A very big thank you daughterof_evil for playing a part of the Death March plot. *mwahs* Thanks also to Peter!mun and Nathan!mun for letting us borrow your boys. :)
***
PART ONE: (Written by daughterof_evil.) In which a comatose John is visited by Sasha Hoffman (daughterof_evil), who injects him some of Claire Bennet's (im_afreakshow) healing blood. (Peter Petrelli (mybrothershadow) and Nathan Petrelli (vote4nathan) also make an appearance, with permission.)
***
Part Two:
About an hour later...
John was brought to conscious because he was trying to cough, but it was too hard because there was something in his mouth. What the fuck? he thought, because he couldn't speak the actual words at the moment.
He reached up to his mouth, and found a tube there, and pulled it out, taking a big gasping breath as he was free to breath on his own. His fingers found some tubes in his nose too, and he tugged that out too.
His eyes opened, and he blinked twice, trying to clear the blurriness. It didn't take much. His head lifted from the pillow and he looked around, frowning. "What the fuck?" he said out loud. The brief soreness he felt in his throat because of the tube being pulled out was gone now, and the words came out clear.
A hospital room. He was in a hospital room? What the fuck for? He had his cure now, he was all better.
His memory brushed briefly on his travels home, and the airport. He'd seen Doug and JP. And they looked worried for him, kept asking him if he was okay. Well, if this hospital room was any indication, he had not been.
But now? Now, he felt fucking fantastic.
He finished pulling all the tubes off of him, pulled the IV out of his hand, and threw the covers off, getting out of bed. It took all of 2.3 seconds for two nurses to come rushing into the room, called by the beeping of machines gone wrong (but only because they weren't hooked up anymore.)
They froze in their tracks and their mouths dropped as they saw the young man standing there, looking quite unimpressed with the hospital gown he was clutching together at the small of his back.
"Where the fuck are my clothes?"
Several minutes later, he was finally dressed in the dirty, worn clothes he'd worn on the last stretch of his Death March, after much arguing. Those clothes were what he was in when he ended up in the hospital. The t-shirt still had a big hole burned through the middle of the chest; however, the skin underneath it was smooth and burn-free. So was the burn he had on his hand. And his skin had a healthy glow to it again, no longer pale and bruised. Even his hair had regained it's warm, rich brown rather then the awful faded mess it had become when the Death March began to take it's toll.
Even the doctor, who insisted on checking him out, was surprised with the strength of his heartbeat and how perfect his blood pressure read.
"That's because I'm cured," John explained, though he knew the doctor wouldn't get it, or understand why. And he didn't.
He was just in a heated argument with the doctor about not going under any more tests or evaluations and just checking himself the fuck out of this stupid hospital when Doug and JP came to the window of the hospital room, holding cups of coffee they'd bought at the cafe across the street, where they'd been sitting the last hour or so as they gave John's visitor some space. They hadn't seen a glimpse of her since she first arrived (and John didn't even know yet that she'd been there) and now, here was John, dressed and standing and arguing, as if nothing was wrong. As if he hadn't been in a coma for a couple days. As if he hadn't spend the last two and a half months dying.
John saw them, and a smile broke across his face. He completely ignored the doctor, and dashed into the hallway so quickly he nearly slipped on the floor, but he righted himself quickly and regained composure. They stood there, staring at him. John noticed that they looked tired, dark circles under their eyes, pale skin, and...
John grinned. "Fuck, you guys look like shit."
Doug rushed into John's arms, and John laughed, squeezing him tight around the waist and lifting him up from the floor, spinning him around. JP whizzed in and grabbed Doug's coffee, so he wouldn't spill it all over them, and Doug laughed as he put his arms around John's neck. When John finally put him down, they kissed deeply. When John pulled away, he smirked - his smirk. His I'm-Fucking-Better-Then-Everyone-Because-I'm-Pyro smirk, one that had been missing for much too long.
"I'm cured," he said.
Doug grinned. "So I see."
John glanced over to see JP standing to the side, the coffee cups having been placed on the stupid hard orange plastic of a chair. He was quiet, and John couldn't really read his face, he looked so blank and reserved. So unlike JP. "Oh, get over here," John said, rolling his eyes.
Less then a second later, JP had his arms wrapped around John in a tight hug, and John hugged back just as tight. "It's about fucking time," John said, tugging on a stand of JP's hair, which was recently cut. Shit, how long had John been out of it? His best friend had a new makeover or some shit like that. JP just snorted into John's neck.
John pulled away, and grabbed Doug's hand. "Okay, let's get the hell out of here. I'm fucking starving. Let's go for breakfast."
ooc: ALMOST DONE! Will have one public post, then that is IT for the Death March. Regarding this part, I couldn't fit it into the flow of this piece, but John, JP, and Doug would have had a discussion about Sasha's brief visit, the two mentioning that she showed up, but John never did see her. HOWEVER - John would have not suspected Sasha of anything because A) she doesn't have powers, B) her fiance, Peter Petrelli , hasn't had his powers for a few months and John knows this, and C) NO ONE knows about Claire and/or Nathan. They wouldn't have pieced it together, because they don't have the right knowledge, and no one else should either. (Since we don't want to ruin the plot that they have worked out for their characters. Hahaha, PLOTS COLLIDE.) The boys would have come to the conclusion that it was a delayed reaction to the magic curing and healing his body.