Ace Attorney: Council of Crime

Part 57 (Joe)

//February 25, 2030. Hospital Room No. 11037, 3:49 PM//

The only thing I had been thinking all day was just: how do I get out of this dump?

I couldn't stop shooting shifty glances towards the window and doors. Vesgate had left me alone quite a while ago, which meant that I was alone with my thoughts and how much they, like me, wanted to get out of here. 

I sighed once again and laid back on my bed. Even if I could get out of here, which I doubt the nurses and doctors working here would allow, then I couldn't walk. When you've been stabbed in the stomach, walking is more than a little bit difficult. 

Trust me on that. Don't do this at home, kids.

There wasn't any way to get out of here. I felt hatred at that concept and sighed angrily. If I were a dragon, fire would be everywhere by now. 

I ran a hand through my hair. It had gotten all messed up when I had been stabbed roughly that morning. I didn't want to brush it, though. Lucky people that couldn't move their arms didn't have to worry about tha-

Wait.

That gives me an idea. 

People that can't move their arms... Either with a broken arm (which is rather frequent in the youth of this generation) or because their body is paralyzed. 

Speaking of paralyzed, wheelchairs.

As my thoughts ran through my head at a thousand miles an hour, I figured out one thing: I could get out of here if I was in a wheelchair. I wouldn't have to walk and put stress on my stomach and I could still go see Drew.

I imagined that he was panicking a considerable amount over all that has happened today, and my being there would calm him down more than a little bit. If anybody asked, then I could say that I was doing this bold, and rather stupid, action to help him out. Then, people wouldn't label me as selfish.. 

If there's anything I hate more than being here, it's being labelled falsely. 

I began to frown as the technical sides of my plot sprang to mind. If I was going to get out of here with a wheelchair, I first had to find one. Who knew where one of those was, though? This hospital was huge. 

I frowned and began to rack my brain for any ideas as to where I could find the critical item. Maybe up at the front... Up at the front of the building in a storage closet. That would make sense.

I mentally thanked the universe for giving me a hospital room near an elevator. With a happy sigh, I forced myself off of my bed. 

Pain shot through the core of my body, making me groan ever so slightly. I held my abdomen, as if hoping that would stop the pain coursing through that segment of my body. 

As expected, it didn't work. I had to live with the ache as I walked to the elevator and waited for the doors to open.

Luckily, I was the only one in the tiny room when the doors opened with their mechanical racket. I limped in, my grip on my stomach getting tighter than usual. 

The doors shut not long after, thankfully. I leaned up against the wall and panted, waiting for the elevator to arrive on the bottom floor. 

The numbers on the counter ticked down. Since I had started on floor eleven, the numbers displayed were always smaller. 10, 9, 8...

I sighed and looked down to my stomach. I could see the outline of the bandages through my clothes. Had they really needed to put that many on me...?

7, 6, 5. 

The numbers continued to descend as I glanced around the empty room. I gulped and closed my eyes. 

4, 3, 2, 1. 

The ding of the numbers clicking by brought my eyes open. I shook myself out of my sleepy haze and began to limp out, still clutching at my stomach as tight as I could without injuring myself. 

Eventually, there I was. The front of the building. I saw a storage closet nearby, and it had all sorts of labels on it. I disregarded them all, not even caring enough to read one. I opened the door swiftly.

A wheelchair was rather close to the door. I dragged it out and shut the door once again. I pulled out my phone once I had sat down and texted Vesgate the most descriptive text I could:

'Hurry up'

Once I was done, I shoved my phone back into my pocket and waited. I was thankful the area was rather vacant, as nobody had stopped me yet.

Vesgate appeared not long after. He looked over me with a perplexed glance. "What is all that about?" he asked, tilting his head ever so slightly.

"Don't ask," I told him, not in the mood to explain my thought processes to him. "Just get ready to go. Interpol Headquarters aren't far from here, and that's where we need to go."

"You're going to leave in a wheelchair from this place?" Vesgate asked in disbelief. "That makes, at best, no sense."

I sighed and shook my head. "Listen to me. I have something really need to tell you," I began for dramatic effect. 

"What is it?" Vesgate questioned, tilting his head slightly.

"Frankly, my dear Vesgate, I don't care," I told him. 

"I figured you'd say that..." Vesgate sighed. 

"Let's stop talking and get going already. Drew needs me," I declared, not even caring that I had accidentally called him 'Drew' in front of somebody not with Interpol. 

Vesgate sighed again. By now, he knew that there wasn't any stopping me. "But at the very least, aren't you concerned that you're taking a wheelchair from this hospital?"

"No," I said simply.

"This is technically called stealing, you know," Vesgate reminded me. 

This thought had occurred to me earlier, but I had already come up with a suitable response.

"I'm the head of Interpol. Who cares?" I asked before beginning my roll out of the building.

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guess who still feels like crap

-Digital