Room 1013

The Lion

"Hey Lance?" Pidge looked at him from across the library table.

"Hmm?" Lance took a bite of his granola bar as he kept his eyes on his homework.

A green mechanical pencil tapped his books to get his attention. He looked up to see a worried but snarky gaze from behind her glasses. "You look like shit."

Hunk nodded in agreement, "Yeah, are you alright? How's your head?"

Lance furrowed his brows in frustration and snapped, "Guys I'm fine." He took another bite and returned to his math.

"Fine, sheesh." Pidge sat back in her chair and crossed her arms.

Lance wasn't okay. He was perfectly aware that he had bags under his eyes and his hair didn't fall right and anything else people wanted to point out. His head had woken him up multiple times during the night. It was probably from nightmares, but he could never remember what happened in them. It frustrated him. He hadn't had any health problems since he was a child, so why was everything popping up now?

"Mr. Jones is calling us back." Pidge shut her book and stood up.

Lance and Hunk followed as they gathered their things and walked through the hall. Lance swung his arm dramatically in boredom, plopping down into his desk. The classroom was dark, which meant one thing: movie day. He internally cheered. That meant he didn't have to do any work today.

Mr. Jones introduced the class, telling them they were going to watch The Emperor of All Maladies. Lance let his mind wander off during the documentary. The last thing that held his attention were pitiful medical movies. He was in the middle of a daydream when he heard it. The beeping. But this time it wasn't in his head.

His eyes shot toward the screen. A boy in a hospital bed was being given meds. Beside him was a machine–the source of the beeping. A heart rate monitor. Lance practically shot out of his seat and sprinted out of the room. He ignored panicked calls from his teacher, busted out the nearest door, and ran all the way home.

"M'ijo what are you doing home?" Lance's mother checked her watch. "It's only 1:30." She stood in the kitchen with a cleaning rag in her hand.

"Mama," Lance grabbed her shoulders with panicked hands, "who visited me when I was in the hospital?"

She wore a look of confusion and concern, "Just me and your father. Why?" She put a hand on his forehead, "Are you feeling okay? Are you having another episode?"

Lance slapped her hand off, then let his eyes darted around the room in thought. He returned his attention to his mother's face. "Who gave me the lion?"

"What?" She cocked her head to the side.

Lance let go of her to talk with rapid emotions, "The lion! The–"

Lance stopped and ran up to his room and retrieved the stuffed lion from his dresser. He leaped down the stairs and threw it on the counter. He jabbed a finger at it, "That lion! Who gave this to me? Who exactly?"

"Well," she thought for a moment, tapping a finger on her chin, "it must have been your father."

Lance slowly shook his head. He lowered his voice and stared at her with intensity. "No, Mama. He said you gave it to me."

"Then it must have been your nurse or doctor." Her eyebrows furrowed and she turned to continue cleaning the counter with a rag. Her movements were rushed and sporadic. "Or another family member."

"Mama," Lance huffed in frustration. He turned around and leaned his hands on the counter, eyes on the toy. His breaths filled his thumping chest, then trembled out. Someone visited him in the hospital. A guy. Someone his parents weren't aware of. Who? Who could have possibly snuck into his room?

Black. Purple. White. Beeping.

Lance turned his body to face her, "Where's the hospital? What's the name?"

She stopped and threw the rag down in annoyance, "Lance why do you want to–"

"What hospital is it?!"

She took a few deep breaths and put her damp hands on her hips. After a few moments of thought, she opened her mouth to speak. "It's in Texas. A hospital called Arlington Memorial."

Lance lowered his voice to a panicked whisper, "I have to go, Mama."

His mother kept her eyes down and her voice low. Her eyebrows furrowed. "Call me when you get there."

Lance walked over to kiss her cheek, "Thank you, Mama."

He ran upstairs and packed a bag. Lance wasn't sure why he wanted to go. There wasn't even a guarantee that he would find the answer. Even if that was true, he had to at least try. He had a feeling that it was the right thing to do. Something happened in that hospital room and he had to know about it.

Lance threw his things down the stairs and grabbed his car keys. He would have to stay in a hotel for a while until everything sorted itself out. His family had the money, so that wasn't a problem. He started up the car and backed out of the parking lot.

After driving for a few hours, he pulled into a gas station and sat in the car. Why the fuck am I doing this?