Reality Is Stranger Than Fiction

Lullaby (Sleeping At Last)

It's like every nerve in your body has been set on fire. You can't move, unable to force your eyes open as you find yourself surfacing back to consciousness. You can hear the steady beat of a heart monitor as you try and recall what happened.

A flash of a memory, a fragment of Ford tipping over you flickers in your mind, sending you bolting upright and opening your eyes. The light burns your eyes, your vision blurring as a fuzzy figure places a hand on your chest, trying to coax you back down. Your ears are ringing, unable to register what's being said to you.

You focus every effort in your body on the blurry figure, trying to identify who it is. A dirty t-shirt, definitely uncombed hair, and a bright pink eyesore for a torso. Your head is killing you, the black spots returning to your vision as you're eased down onto the bed again.

There isn't energy left in you to struggle.

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It feels like someone's shoved a knife into your head, splitting it in two. The world's too bright lights glaring down on you from behind your eyelids. You can hear people talking, they sound distant and muffled, a ringing in your ears overpowering them as you struggle to hear what they're saying.

"... There has to be something left to do!" that sounds like... Stan?

"I'm sorry, sir, but we did all we can. All that's left to do now is wait and hope." That voice is unfamiliar.

Hope is for a dead man. You're sure as hell aren't willing to die here. Slowly, you force your eyes open, focusing on the two blurry figures at the doorway. That's definitely Stan and... a doctor? Shit were you in a hospital?!

A groan leaves your lips as your head surges with pain. You reach a slow, shaking hand up to clutch the side of it, every muscle in your body protesting at the movement.

"Grunkle Stan!" Mabel's voice squeaks as she comes into focus leaning against the side of your bed.

You see the doctor and Stan whip around. The doctor is immediately at your side, a tiny light being shone in your eyes. You try and knock their hand away, but they tut at you and tell you to relax. Stan grabs your hand, urging you to follow their request. You concede, letting them check you over.

"Extensive nerve damage. I'm unsure if this will cause paralysis, but it certainly will be permanent damage," the doctor mutters, checking your vitals.

"What... about -?" you try to speak, your throat feeling as if it's on fire. Something's pressed to your lips, cutting you off.

"Drink," you hear Stan instruct you, tipping the plastic cup so water trickles into your mouth.

You down the entire glass, feeling it coat your sandpaper throat. It's relief, but it doesn't answer your question.

"... Ford?" you manage to croak when they take the cup away from your lips. Despite your blurry vision, you can tell Stan looks to the doctor, who rests a hand on your leg.

"He's doing better. Focus on getting your strength up."

It's like a twist of a knife in your chest. That's all you get before the doctor leaves. Leaving you alone with Mabel and Stan. You tilt your head over to Stan.

"Go... be there..." you whisper, the plastic cup pressed against your lips again.

"Funny, he said the same thing to me," Stan chuckles, tipping the cup so that you can drink the water.

There's a flicker of hope in your chest; "So he's awake?"

"He was. Get some rest kid, you've earned it. You got eternity or whatever to catch up for the lost time."