Chapter Sixteen
Title: Fog Out My Daylight
I groan and roll over.
This bed is very uncomfortable.
Wait… last time I feel asleep… or at least I think it was asleep; it wasn’t even on a bed.
Mitchell’s lap if I seem to recall.
W-wait.
I’m not at the house.
I’m not in my own bed.
I can smell that.
My senses are heightened, well the moon is rising and it’s only days until… it.
Lords it is too much to cope with, this darn hospital again.
Is it the same room?
Yes it is, I can smell myself on the sheets… don’t they even wash them?
I shudder, that’s disgusting.
I raise myself up, trying to get away from the sheets.
And then there is Mitchell again.
Does he ever leave me?
I doubt it, he seems the type.
He gets a little over keen.
Well, he does with me.
He all but stalked me after we first met.
To keep me safe he said.
It wasn’t exactly reassuring though, he might have saved me that time… but still, the way he looked at me, like he wanted to…
Eat me?
Taste me?
Bite me?
But still, he’s sitting there.
And its amusing because he’s asleep. Well, half asleep.
Slumped in the chair looking for all the world like he’s relaxed.
But his eyes are darting underneath his closed eyelids.
“Mitchell?”
He stirs but doesn’t open his eyes.
“Mitch-”
And his eyes spring open.
“George! George!”
He’s thrown himself out of his seat and is clutching my shoulders. Shaking me.
“Mitchell, you’re hurting me.”
And he is, maybe he doesn’t mean to, but between the ringing in my ears -the darn noise from the machinery- and my body being glinted from Mitchell’s panicked shaking I feel… worse.
“What’s the noise?”
His eyes are vaguely red, well, brown- no black.
Irises and pupils are completely black.
And yes, I’m scared.
I shake my head, if he’d let go of me I’d answer.
He does so reluctantly.
“It’s just the machinery Mitchell, just the machinery.”
He looks so adorably confused.
You wouldn’t think that he worked in a hospital.
And then his face falls and he turns away.
Okay then…
Not sure what’s going on with Mitchell.
He’s purposely not looking at me now, hanging his head hiding his eyes with his hands.
I roll my eyes, for my own benefit.
And there is an uneasy tension.
Which lasts for several minutes.
And then Annie pops up.
With mugs of tea.
Well there are three mugs.
Two of tea…
One of something else.
It’s my sense of smell.
“Mitchell…”
He looks up to Annie’s voice.
I feel jealous.
“Take this.”
And she hands him the mug of… something else.
And he leaves the room.
And she looks at me and then sits down on the end of the bed.
I can’t feel her, but I know that she’s there.
“I’m worried about Mitchell.”
Of course she’s worried about Mitchell, I’m worried about Mitchell but I’ve just had another heart attack. I’m more than a little concerned about that.
Maybe mortality doesn’t appear to concern the immortal.
“What did you do?”
Because I know that she’s done something.
“I…”
She has the grace to look guilty.
“… I snuck antidepressants into his tea.”
Ah, well she always was proactive.
“It might work, I suppose.”
“Where did you…?”
I’m even more worried.
She looks even guiltier now.
“I kind of… stole them.”
Very proactive.
And now we’re sitting in uncomfortable silence.
“He’s really worried about you. You know?”
Considering that he hasn’t left my side in… days, I would tend to think so.
But I let her talk.
“I don’t know what he’d do if…”
Okay, I don’t need to think about that.
“How long do I have left?”
And she looks so shocked at my question.
She can’t think? Can she?
“Until I can get out of here? Until the full moon?”
She smiles; well it’s hardly a laughing matter.
“I dunno, I’ll have to ask Mitchell on the first one, but you’ve got about two weeks, ten days… something like that.”
Ah, so that’s why I’m feeling better. I’m getting stronger.
I’ll have to get out of hospital soon… otherwise people will suspect.
I hate having to plan my life with this.
It’s like a disability.
In fact it is.
Mitchell and Annie are just… there, but me.
There’s a knock on the door.
And Mitchell enters.
Since when does Mitchell knock?
He’s never knocked.
But he comes in looking bashful.
Bashful?
Is this really my Mitchell?
My Mitchell?
Where did that come from?
He sits down on the chair by the bed again… but this time looks at me.
Annie looks at him and then me.
And leans down to whisper in my ear.
“Look after him…”
How am I meant to do that? I’m the one whose been hospitalised twice.
But looking over at him I know what she means.
“I’m going back to the house, I feel very… shady.”
And with that she’s gone. The mugs of tea she was carrying splashing normal tea onto the floor.
And ouch… onto my arms.
And Mitchell’s looking worried again, and his eyes are clear.
I tap the bed awkwardly. A bit of human contact would be nice.
And he does perch on the edge of the bed unsteadily.
“I’ve heard I have you to thank for saving my life again…”
He flinches but I smile at him.
“Yeah... well, you’re a liability George.”
I try to laugh, fail but I hope he understands the sentiment.
“Well. Thanks.”
And then I lean against the stark coverlets.
And I can hear him muttering something, but I can’t tell what it is.
I groan and roll over.
This bed is very uncomfortable.
Wait… last time I feel asleep… or at least I think it was asleep; it wasn’t even on a bed.
Mitchell’s lap if I seem to recall.
W-wait.
I’m not at the house.
I’m not in my own bed.
I can smell that.
My senses are heightened, well the moon is rising and it’s only days until… it.
Lords it is too much to cope with, this darn hospital again.
Is it the same room?
Yes it is, I can smell myself on the sheets… don’t they even wash them?
I shudder, that’s disgusting.
I raise myself up, trying to get away from the sheets.
And then there is Mitchell again.
Does he ever leave me?
I doubt it, he seems the type.
He gets a little over keen.
Well, he does with me.
He all but stalked me after we first met.
To keep me safe he said.
It wasn’t exactly reassuring though, he might have saved me that time… but still, the way he looked at me, like he wanted to…
Eat me?
Taste me?
Bite me?
But still, he’s sitting there.
And its amusing because he’s asleep. Well, half asleep.
Slumped in the chair looking for all the world like he’s relaxed.
But his eyes are darting underneath his closed eyelids.
“Mitchell?”
He stirs but doesn’t open his eyes.
“Mitch-”
And his eyes spring open.
“George! George!”
He’s thrown himself out of his seat and is clutching my shoulders. Shaking me.
“Mitchell, you’re hurting me.”
And he is, maybe he doesn’t mean to, but between the ringing in my ears -the darn noise from the machinery- and my body being glinted from Mitchell’s panicked shaking I feel… worse.
“What’s the noise?”
His eyes are vaguely red, well, brown- no black.
Irises and pupils are completely black.
And yes, I’m scared.
I shake my head, if he’d let go of me I’d answer.
He does so reluctantly.
“It’s just the machinery Mitchell, just the machinery.”
He looks so adorably confused.
You wouldn’t think that he worked in a hospital.
And then his face falls and he turns away.
Okay then…
Not sure what’s going on with Mitchell.
He’s purposely not looking at me now, hanging his head hiding his eyes with his hands.
I roll my eyes, for my own benefit.
And there is an uneasy tension.
Which lasts for several minutes.
And then Annie pops up.
With mugs of tea.
Well there are three mugs.
Two of tea…
One of something else.
It’s my sense of smell.
“Mitchell…”
He looks up to Annie’s voice.
I feel jealous.
“Take this.”
And she hands him the mug of… something else.
And he leaves the room.
And she looks at me and then sits down on the end of the bed.
I can’t feel her, but I know that she’s there.
“I’m worried about Mitchell.”
Of course she’s worried about Mitchell, I’m worried about Mitchell but I’ve just had another heart attack. I’m more than a little concerned about that.
Maybe mortality doesn’t appear to concern the immortal.
“What did you do?”
Because I know that she’s done something.
“I…”
She has the grace to look guilty.
“… I snuck antidepressants into his tea.”
Ah, well she always was proactive.
“It might work, I suppose.”
“Where did you…?”
I’m even more worried.
She looks even guiltier now.
“I kind of… stole them.”
Very proactive.
And now we’re sitting in uncomfortable silence.
“He’s really worried about you. You know?”
Considering that he hasn’t left my side in… days, I would tend to think so.
But I let her talk.
“I don’t know what he’d do if…”
Okay, I don’t need to think about that.
“How long do I have left?”
And she looks so shocked at my question.
She can’t think? Can she?
“Until I can get out of here? Until the full moon?”
She smiles; well it’s hardly a laughing matter.
“I dunno, I’ll have to ask Mitchell on the first one, but you’ve got about two weeks, ten days… something like that.”
Ah, so that’s why I’m feeling better. I’m getting stronger.
I’ll have to get out of hospital soon… otherwise people will suspect.
I hate having to plan my life with this.
It’s like a disability.
In fact it is.
Mitchell and Annie are just… there, but me.
There’s a knock on the door.
And Mitchell enters.
Since when does Mitchell knock?
He’s never knocked.
But he comes in looking bashful.
Bashful?
Is this really my Mitchell?
My Mitchell?
Where did that come from?
He sits down on the chair by the bed again… but this time looks at me.
Annie looks at him and then me.
And leans down to whisper in my ear.
“Look after him…”
How am I meant to do that? I’m the one whose been hospitalised twice.
But looking over at him I know what she means.
“I’m going back to the house, I feel very… shady.”
And with that she’s gone. The mugs of tea she was carrying splashing normal tea onto the floor.
And ouch… onto my arms.
And Mitchell’s looking worried again, and his eyes are clear.
I tap the bed awkwardly. A bit of human contact would be nice.
And he does perch on the edge of the bed unsteadily.
“I’ve heard I have you to thank for saving my life again…”
He flinches but I smile at him.
“Yeah... well, you’re a liability George.”
I try to laugh, fail but I hope he understands the sentiment.
“Well. Thanks.”
And then I lean against the stark coverlets.
And I can hear him muttering something, but I can’t tell what it is.