I'm Going Slightly Mad

Chapter 20

He woke up sometime around three AM, and the drugs had worn off. He was still exhausted, his arm hurt like hell, and he could feel the scrapes on his legs more than ever, even though they’d been cleaned and dressed. He was in too much pain to go back to sleep.

With a groan, he switched on the bedside lamp, washing the room in warm yellow light, and reflecting off a translucent orange bottle on his nightstand.

Those must be the painkillers he’d been prescribed. He snatched up the bottle, reading the instructions.

Magro, Aaron D. Vicodin. Take as needed for pain; no more than six tablets daily, or two every eight hours.

He fished one out and swallowed it dry, then switched the light back off and waited for it to kick in.

***

The next time he woke, it was nine AM. His phone, sitting next to the little orange bottle, blinked. He had a missed call. He must’ve really been out if he’d slept through his phone ringing.

Lucas had left him a message. In essence, all he said was that he had to work today, so they wouldn’t be able to race. Right. It was Saturday, and Lucas didn’t know about Aaron’s mishap the day before. Aaron would have to call him back later and explain, and hopefully Lucas wouldn’t freak out. He was going to freak out, there were no two ways around it, but Aaron could hope anyway.

He was hungry, and the painkillers had worn off too. He was still a little tired, and he was in an incredibly bad mood. He sighed, and got up to raid the fridge.

His legs were sore, he abruptly realized. It was nothing like the way his wrist hurt; this was a slow, lazy ache, where his wrist was more frequent bursts of searing pain. They complemented each other horrendously.

His fridge was all but empty, but he found a box of crackers in the pantry. Crackers weren't his favorite food, he thought they were bland and boring, but he was starving. He scarfed them down, following them with a glass of water and another painkiller.

Before he went back to bed, he inspected his laptop. To his surprise, it wasn't in nearly as bad a shape as he'd expected it to be. A couple more keys had shaken loose, but he'd memorized the keyboard ages ago. There was probably internal damage, but Miles would most likely be more than happy to fix it for him. He set it on his desk to inspect later, and headed back to bed, grabbing a few of his favorite books on the way. If he was going to be confined to bed, he might as well enjoy himself.

He was back to sleep before he could read a whole page.

***

That day consisted mostly of naps. Aaron loved naps, so that wasn't a problem, and when he wasn't asleep, he was reading, which he liked just as much as napping. It would've been a good day, if not for all the pain.

After yet another brief snooze, he realized it was nine PM. Lucas would be off work by now, and it was too late for him to rush over to Aaron's apartment to go mental about Aaron's broken wrist, so it was safe to call him.

"Hey, Aaron," Lucas answered promptly. "Did you get my message?"

"Yeah, I did, and that's totally okay. I couldn't race today either."

"How come?"

Aaron took a deep breath. This was going to end badly. "Don't freak out, but I broke my wrist."

For a few moments there was silence, but it didn't last long. "You what?"

"It was just a stupid accident. And when I say stupid, I really mean stupid. I fell up the stairs." He laughed, hoping his cheer was infectious. "Dumb, right?"