| The Trip Home (A Few Days Past) |
[08 Dec 2005|11:19pm] |
"Fifty six, fifty seven and finally fifty eight," Kris muttered as her eyes ran along the tiles on the ceiling above. This is how she spent her time as she waited on Hayden; counting the ceiling tiles. She really needed to get out of the hospital and as soon as possible before she went stir crazy. It was bad enough that the family across the hall from her kept giving her funny looks, but the nurses had started glancing her way every so often.
For the most part, Kris ignored them but occasionally her brown eyes would slide their way and narrow to encourage the nurses to quit looking at her. It worked most of the time; they'd pretend that they had paperwork to do, but sometimes they'd stare right back. The only time this staring match would be broken would be if someone walked down the hallway.
The Slayer sunk low into the seat and folded her arms across the arms of her chair. She drummed her fingertips on her bare abdomen; her tank top had ridden upwards as she moved.
Getting a bullet dislodged from his bicep wasn’t on Hayden’s top ten list. He could say that with confidence now. Having the entrance wound stitched? Also not making the list.
At least they were releasing him. Hayden was acutely aware of the rush in other parts of Emergency; People who needed forceps and rubbing alcohol a lot more than he did. He rolled the sleeve of his t-shirt down and shrugged into his denim jacket, grimacing when a sleeve caught on the thick bandage.
Blood-stained and ripped the jacket was, but that sharp December air outside helped him lower his standards of personal appearance. He scrubbed a hand across his jaw, ignored the tangles in his hair, and made his way to the ajar door.
Kris was in profile, slumping in her chair with an eyebrow arching into a scowl. Her boots stretched out into the walkway. Dusty, scuffed, with dirt clumped into the tread. ‘Rugged’ would’ve been putting the state of her apparel lightly, in a sea of white coats and pastel scrubs.
He knelt next to her chair and smiled. “Look, everybody. It’s my girlfriend, Mary Sunshine.”
Kris’ eyes slid upwards as Hayden stepped out of the door and sunk down onto his knee beside her chair. Her lips curved into something of a smile as she leaned in and murmured, "You love me as I am and you know it." She pressed her lips to his and then drew back to catch her breath. "What did the doc say?" She took a quick moment to run her eyes over him from head to toe and right back up again. It was almost as if she didn't trust doctors to take care of Hayden, which considering her own experiences with doctors, she didn't.
Hayden propped an elbow on his knee, and rubbed a hand up and down her shin. His eyes went to the fifty-eight ceiling tiles and squinted. “Ah… he said, ‘hunting accident, sure’. Something like that. Then he yanked out the bullet, and I screamed like a girl.”
Features seemed to draw into an expression of doubt as Kris looked rather intently at Hayden. "You really screamed like a girl?" She bit her bottom lip and fought to keep her expression as neutral as she could possibly get and keep it. She even cleared her throat in a valiant effort not to laugh at the idea of Hayden screaming like a girl.
“A three-year-old one,” he confirmed with a slow nod, and smirked at himself. “Yep.” Hayden got up and went around to the chair on her opposite side. He lounged against the back and stretched his legs out. “You proud?”
To answer that question, Kris leaned across and kissed him slowly and deeply before pulling away to nod her head. "Very proud," she murmured with a soft smile catching her lips. She turned her head as she scowled at the nurse who happened to be looking her way before her attention shifted back to Hayden. "Can we go home now, please?"
“Yeah,” agreed while he checked his watch. When he rubbed his lips together, Hayden could taste her mouth. The familiarity was comfortable. “Feels like we’ve been here longer than that,” he muttered, and had a look up the hall. “Seen Corbett around?”
"He went home. It would seem he had some scrapes but nothing too serious," Kris muttered as she shook her head. "I plan on dropping in on his place later, to see how he is." She shifted her weight from the chair and settled herself in front of Hayden. Both arms stretched outwards and with hands held out for him to take. "Let's go home."
“You driving?” He reached across to take her right hand with his, and heaved himself up. Behind him, the seat cushion hissed as it inflated. “I gotta check out, then we can go.” The change in position made his arm throb, so he rolled his shoulder. It didn’t really help.
She gave a nod of her head and dark strands of hair slipped from their resting place behind her ears. "I'm driving." She wrapped an arm around Hayden's waist and hooked her finger in the belt loop of his jeans and it twisted around the loop. "The sooner we're out of here the better," she muttered with a vehemence that came from her great hatred of hospitals.
“Complain, complain…” he droned as they trudged up to the nursing station. “Wonder how many hours I’ve spent patching you up, or reading year-old Sports Illustrated swimsuit editions in waiting rooms.” He arched his eyebrows and shook his head in apparent disappointment.
The nurse looked up. “Yeah, Maragos?” he offered, and pulled out an insurance card for her to copy.
"You know I hate these places," Kris countered with a rather childish method of sticking her tongue out at Hayden. She settled her weight against his side and toyed with some stitches peeking out from beneath the material of her jeans before she stopped herself. Kris wrapped the fingers not hooked in the belt loop around Hayden's hip and simply exhaled a breath as they waited for the nurse.
( Talk of Mundane Post-Apocalyptic Fun and Eva )
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