Working For Your Love (PG X PG)

Hospital

Scott's POV

There was a strong ache in my chest that refused to go away. My head felt like it was getting split open. My entire body felt...it felt sore. I opened my eyes only to see nothing but the colour white. Ugh, where the hell was I? Was I in the apartment again? Was I on the scrap of metal, floating through the floods that happened? I reached my arms out to my sides. They fell down the side of something yet they didn't fall into water. Where was I? Was I on some sort of bed or something? The whiteness started to fade away a little bit, revealing small sections of the room that I was in. I knew that, from the tiles on the ceiling alone, I was in the hospital. Had...Had I been saved? I pushed myself up and looked around. There was no doubt about it. I was in a hospital. The wall opposite to me was painted white, the wall to the right of me had a small light source with what I could only guess to be x-rays covering it, and the wall to the left of me had those leather chairs that all hospitals seemed to have, as well as a weird looking machine that beeped a lot. I guess that was my heart monitor. At least I was alive, I guess. It was much better than me being dead.

I looked over to my bedside table that was to the right of me. Of course it was to the right of me! From my shoulder down to the middle of my palm, my arm was covered in a massive, bright purple cast. How long was I going to have to keep this on for? How long was it going to be until this healed? This felt like it was going to take ages to get used to. Then again I might just be stuck in the hospital until my arm healed. I guess the hospital didn't know the full extent of my injuries yet, as they hadn't had the time to test me. I mean, there must be tons of casualties, right? That storm was so rough and harsh that I would be shocked if somebody hadn't died. Hopefully Cam and Porfirio were alright. I hadn't seen them in ages. Well, it had felt like ages. I still didn't know how long I had been knocked out for. It was obviously enough for them to put a cast on my arm, and a bandage around my face. The last thing that I remembered was Porfirio pushing me against some sort of surface while we were underneath the water. I remembered seeing his face full of pain...He was suicidal, the poor thing. I hoped that he got saved.

There weren't many contents on the table. I didn't know if that was a good or bad thing...I mean, the hospital probably had no idea where I lived, so they couldn't go into my home and see if they could salvage anything from the wreck. All that was there was a small bottle of water, a pill bottle, and my mobile phone. How did they find that? How did they find my phone? Maybe they did go into my home... I picked up the bottle of water by reaching my left hand over my chest, took a sip of it, and then picked up my phone. In the black, reflective screen of it I could see how awful I looked. There was a massive bandage covering one half of my face. I guess that explained why I could still see a tiny bit of whiteness in my left eye. I had a bandage covering it. The rest of my face that was exposed looked bad as well. It was covered in cuts and bruises. Sighing, I placed my phone back onto my table and rested my head against the plain white wall that was behind me. I was about to adjust the collar of the scratchy hospital gown that I was wearing when I felt the thickness of bandages. Had I broken my ribs as well? How many bones did I break during that flood? My eyes averted themselves down to the pill bottle. The first thing that came into my mind were my anxiety pills. Could they have found that? I picked the orange bottle and looked at the label. It did have the same name as my anxiety medication, yet it wasn't the bottle that I had in my home. Still, it was medication. I opened the cap by twisting it off with my teeth, poured two of the pills onto the fingers of my right arm, grabbed the bottle of water, took a sip of that, and placed the pills in. God, it felt weird to be doing stuff like this.

As soon as I placed the water back onto the table the door leading into my room opened. There was a pause before the person, sitting on a wheelchair, came in. They too were wearing a hospital gown. Their eyes still had all of the colours in the world in them, their hair still had the purple streaks in it, and their skin still had the tint of blue to it. It was Porfirio. I couldn't help but let tears roll down the sides of my face. He was alive! He was freaking alive! He wasn't dead! People had saved him! Some sort of relief team had saved him! He stared up at me for a few seconds then back down at his lap again. I could see what I could only describe as regret covering his face. I mean, his brother had died a day or so before we got recused...He was probably still depressed about that. I reached my left arm out for him to hold onto. He kept his hands in his lap. It was obvious that it was going to take a long time before they actually spoke to me. I started to look at all of the physical wounds that were covering his body. Both of his legs had been bound in bright yellow casts while there was a mechanical device surrounding his neck. Had he sustained some sort of back injury, then? He wheeled himself over towards the side of my bed where he placed his left hand onto my calf. I couldn't feel it. Gingerly, with my left hand, I pulled back the thin hospital covers. My left leg had a cast covering it too. I remembered falling over on the way to the Attraction that night...The night when all of this crap started. I had hurt my leg but I had no idea that I had actually broken it! I understood why my arm was casted...I knew that there had been some serious damage to it since day one.