Another hospital patient [ota]
The last thing that St John actually consciously remembers from the mission was pain. Not the pain in his stomach, not that burning agony of his overtaxed powers, not even the pain of the bullet lodged in his gut. It was more the pain of a branch sticking into his back and the casual wondering of just why Haylie had left him in a tree when he was likely to pass out and crack his skull.
He didn't pass out, luckily enough. He was still mostly conscious when John appeared at the bottom of the tree to gather them up and get the hell out of there with the Captain secure. Pyro can vaguely recall the red-head -not Angel, the other one- trying to heal his stomach before Pyro avidly pointed out that the bullet was still in there and it fucking hurt. She passed out just before St John did. But apparently she'd done enough to stop the bleeding and mostly stabilise his condition.
He wasn't awake to be taken in to surgery and he wasn't really sure if he woke up after it or not. When he did finally regain his awareness, he was swadded in a bed with God knew what attached to him. A nurse had the good grace to tell him he'd been out for six hours, but they'd gotten the bullet and patched him up. He was very lucky.
Lucky would've not being shot in the first place. He'd promptly mumbled something at her and passed out again for a regular sleep rather than drug induced one. The next time he woke up it was dark out and the ward was near silent. It took a lot to not roll over and go back to sleep, he wanted to but the IV's in his arm and the bandaging and stiffness in his side stopped him. He hated lying on his back, but it seemed like that was all he was left with.
By the time morning came, he was declared a successful operation but had to be kept in the hospital until the wound healed a little. St John wasn't arguing, he could barely sit up without flaring agony shooting through him.
He hated being shot almost as much as he hated Hendley and his stupid fucking gun. But then, he had all the time in the world to plot payback. Since he was going to be bored as hell for a good long time.
He didn't pass out, luckily enough. He was still mostly conscious when John appeared at the bottom of the tree to gather them up and get the hell out of there with the Captain secure. Pyro can vaguely recall the red-head -not Angel, the other one- trying to heal his stomach before Pyro avidly pointed out that the bullet was still in there and it fucking hurt. She passed out just before St John did. But apparently she'd done enough to stop the bleeding and mostly stabilise his condition.
He wasn't awake to be taken in to surgery and he wasn't really sure if he woke up after it or not. When he did finally regain his awareness, he was swadded in a bed with God knew what attached to him. A nurse had the good grace to tell him he'd been out for six hours, but they'd gotten the bullet and patched him up. He was very lucky.
Lucky would've not being shot in the first place. He'd promptly mumbled something at her and passed out again for a regular sleep rather than drug induced one. The next time he woke up it was dark out and the ward was near silent. It took a lot to not roll over and go back to sleep, he wanted to but the IV's in his arm and the bandaging and stiffness in his side stopped him. He hated lying on his back, but it seemed like that was all he was left with.
By the time morning came, he was declared a successful operation but had to be kept in the hospital until the wound healed a little. St John wasn't arguing, he could barely sit up without flaring agony shooting through him.
He hated being shot almost as much as he hated Hendley and his stupid fucking gun. But then, he had all the time in the world to plot payback. Since he was going to be bored as hell for a good long time.