I. Hate. Hospitals. (Josef)

[Sam Caraway]

Saturday, 5.43pm.

Sam Caraway didn’t make a very good patient.

He could have told the nurses that himself, he didn’t need their frosty glances to confirm it for him – if they were going to get on his nerves when he was in pain (and let’s face it: Sam wasn’t very good at dealing with pain on a good day, never mind on a day like this one), he was going to take it out on them. He snapped and scowled, and when things broke and went wrong it may not have been solely down to their own clumsiness. They disliked him, he would have been happier to be elsewhere. Everybody loses.

So here he was, in hospital, staring at his phone. It was like waiting for someone to come and post bail for you – the only problem was, he felt as if he’d used up his phonecall already.

It had been to Mason, of course. Kali was out of the question (there was no way Sam was going to ask a pregnant lady to look after him on a Bad Luck Day – too many things could go wrong. And while they only usually went wrong for him, he wasn’t prepared to take any risks where his sister was concerned). But Mason had plans to see Janice, and when Sam had heard that, something had twisted in his stomach. Still unable to work out how he felt about Mason seeing women while everything was going on with Kali, he’d ended the conversation as soon as he could. He’d asked if Mason had been free, and when the other man had told him of his plans Sam had refrained from asking the favour he had intended to. He was not in the kind of mood where he should be allowed to deal with a delicate situation.

There was one other person – and did that say something about him, that he only had three? – but Sam wasn’t quite sure. He found the number on his cellphone and regarded the screen for a moment, lips pursed. He wasn’t going to ask for anything normal. Were they at the stage in their friendship (’the word I’m going to use until I think of a better one, Hairy Mary,’) where he could make this kind of outlandish request? It felt as if it required a degree of intimacy, one he didn’t really feel like he had with anyone.

Sam glanced at the clock. 5.43pm. Too early – He would probably be teaching. He probably wouldn’t even have his cell switched on. He probably wouldn’t even be free this evening.

He probably wouldn’t even answer his –

‘Good afternoon, Josef Muller,’ Sam said when the other man answered, a smile in his voice as he did his best to quell a flutter in his stomach which he told himself was entirely due to delayed shock from the day’s events. ‘I was wondering if you were free tonight…’

[Josef Muller]

Having Terrowin was a godsend. Josef couldn’t remember the last time he’d taken an evening off. He’d finished his morning classes with little incident—mostly yoga with some more martial-arts focused classes—and had had a calm, collected day where everything seemed to work out. Between his assistants and the hours that Terrowin could pick up without needing supervision, he thought he’d have evenings off more often.

He wasn’t sure what he’d do with those evenings off yet. Probably watch bad TV and make and eat enough food to gain back the weight he’d lost. It was a token of how crazy Josef had felt lately that this actually sounded somewhat pleasant.

Of course, there was also calling Sam…but Josef was unsure of where he stood with the other man. He enjoyed his company a great deal, and liked his sense of humor and the showman quality the man had. He liked spending time with him. He was just unsure of what to do with that. One day, he would’ve been much more pushy—insistent. These days, he just was thankful he made it through a conversation without babbling like an idiot. He could only be grateful that he’d never been the talkative type. But he knew he was happy with this, no matter what it was and whatever happened later.. And for now, that was quite enough.

He was in the locker room of his clinic when his phone vibrated. He finished tugging on his socks, glanced at the number, smiled, then picked it up. This wasn’t helping with his own confusion, and his own reactions were definitely countering what his rational mind cautioned him. But then, Josef would freely admit that he wasn’t a rational person. He tended to ignore logical thought. For now, he’d continue the habit.

“Afternoon, Sam Caraway.” His voice was also warm, and he tucked the phone into the nook between his neck and shoulder as he began lacing up his shoes. He paused at the question, and then glanced at the watch on his wrist. Well, other than movies and possibly cooking for himself and Hart, he supposed he didn’t have much to do. And it was a Saturday night. He supposed he should get out and have a life that didn’t revolve around punching bags and correcting stances in front of mirrors.

If only he knew what his night WOULD entail.

“I am,” he said, straightening up and holding the phone properly now. “What’s up?”

[Sam Caraway]

Josef was free? Sam was pleasantly surprised (although something also told him that he had phoned being half-certain that the other man would say no, and he would therefore be excused of having to deal with this very strange situation) – but his smile faded when he realised that he was actually going to have to ask his question, now. ‘I have a – uh – an interesting request,’ he told Josef, aware that his voice was probably reflecting his jangling nerves. He sighed, letting his head fall back against the pillow behind it. ‘Just remember that you can say no at any time,’ Sam began, a small smirk appearing when he realised how that sounded.

This was the difficult bit to explain. ‘Did you ever play that game when you were a kid – ‘luckily, unluckily?’’ Sam kept his tone light. ‘Well, here it is: Unluckily, I may have had an incident involving a car today. Luckily, I’m mostly fine – Unluckily, I have three broken ribs and they think I might have a concussion.’ Sam sat further up on his bed, wincing a little at the movement – he hoped Josef couldn’t hear his momentary change in breathing. The doctors had been very stern with him about taking it easy – he had retorted that he was lucky he didn’t need to work, wasn’t he? If he’d actually needed to be behind the bar every night, taking a couple of weeks off would have been far from ideal. He could stand (just about), and he intended to make the most of it. Even if it hurt.

It had taken Sam a while to work out how to phrase this, and he continuedL ‘Thing is, I hate hospitals, and the doctor says I’m only allowed to go home if there’s someone who can keep an eye on me overnight.’ He paused, waiting to see if Josef would work out what was being asked of him. Nothing in his voice gave away just how much he wanted Josef to agree – the last thing Sam wanted was to make the other man feel pressured into saying yes. When people felt as if you had backed them into a corner, it didn’t take long for them to start treating you differently.

He rubbed the back of his neck nervously, uncomfortable with this whole thing. Sam hated asking favours, or being indebted to other people. Asking someone to stay overnight when you had no idea what you relationship with them actually consisted of? Not one of his better schemes.

‘I know this is really weird – and seriously, please feel free to say no – but if you break me out of this place, you can name your price.’ Sam was smiling as he spoke, feigning a relaxed confidence he didn’t feel. He bit his lip, waiting for the answer.

[Josef Muller]

Sam seemed nervous. Had he ever seemed nervous before? Josef couldn’t recall. He frowned and leaned against the wall as he listened, brows climbing each moment. He was less guarded while alone. He didn’t have to worry about people watching him and interpreting his actions and reactions. Had it been any other time, and had Sam sounded any other way, his response to the ‘no’ statement would’ve been I could never say no to you. But this sounded important to him, so all he said was a neutral and careful, “All right.”

As it happened, Josef had never played the game. But it didn’t take much to guess what it meant. He straightened at the ‘accident’, words coming to his lips like are you okay and what happened and where are you because Josef couldn’t picture leaving anyone he knew—however distant of an acquaintance, let alone someone he was seeing—alone after they’d got into a car accident. But he bit it back. It was only until Sam tallied up the injuries that he let out a low whistle? That was mostly fine? Damn. And Sam didn’t like pain either, if he could remember correctly. “Hell, Sam, are you all right? What happened? I mean, you don’t have to tell me if it makes you uncomfortable, of course, but…ah, never mind. Go on.”

He did get the question, and was surprised at the emotions that welled up in response. The answer was, of course, yes. There was no doubt in his mind. He wasn’t surprised by the concern he felt, nor the flattery that Sam trusted him enough to ask him to see him in a bad state. He was startled by the half-exasperated affection, however, caused by the fact that even then, Sam didn’t seem to get that sometimes it didn’t have to be a trade. Josef would have given him help without needing anything in return. Perhaps that made him naïve and easily taken advantage of, but he wasn’t ashamed of it. It was part of who he was. Just like Sam’s need to make everything a deal—a bizarre trait he supposed was necessary to survive in Vegas—was part of who he was.

“We’ll figure out a price later,” he said instead. “Maybe you can teach me those card games, huh? Here. I can be there in a half-hour. Where are you? Just Maddock?” As he spoke, he zipped up his bag and shrugged on his coat. He was taking cues from Sam and trying to be light-hearted about this, but he'd feel better when he could see the man for himself.

[Sam Caraway]

‘Mostly fine’ was, Sam had to admit, a relative term. Not many people would describe his injuries as being ‘fine’, but as far as Sam was concerned, any time you got hit by a car and could still walk afterwards was definitely a positive occurrence. His bad luck had been running wild recently, and he was incredibly relieved that it had gone so far, and no further. He was surprised at the level of concern in Josef’s voice, and did his best to placate the older man: ‘Really – I’m okay,’ he told his friend, hoping that he sounded as fine as he was making out. ‘This guy ran a red light, and they think he clipped me with his wing-mirror when I was crossing the road.’ Sam really had been at the wrong place at the wrong time, and he’d ended up with the breaks and bruises to prove it – as well as a nagging pain in his neck. ‘One moment I’m walking, the next thing I know I’m lying on my back with a paramedic telling me to squeeze her hand.’

The relief he felt when Josef agreed to his request came as a surprise to even him – Sam let out a breath he hadn’t even been aware of holding. A weight felt as if it had been lifted from his chest: Sam hadn’t been exaggerating when he had said that he hated hospitals. He didn’t really want to think about how he felt about Josef agreeing so quickly – something threatened to expand in his chest. ‘Yeah,’ he confirmed his location to Josef, suddenly feeling too drained to say much more. It felt as if all of his energy had evaporated. ‘I’ll see you in a bit. Thanks, Josef.’ He meant it.

The most important things to deal with in the next half-hour were dressing, and making sure that the nurses didn’t hate him any more. The first task would be reasonably easy – his jeans had survived the day’s events, and after the last Bad Luck Day Sam had been very sure to pack two spare shirts in the bag he’d carried around with him. He flirted with a nurse until she fetched it for him, and then apologised as profusely as he could without going over the top.

After twenty-five minutes Sam was definitely not anyone’s least-favourite patient any more, and he’d even managed to get a cup of coffee out of another nurse who came to check up on him.

After thirty-five minutes, Sam was sitting on the edge of the bed, doing up the buttons of the dark blue shirt he had brought with him – it was incredibly creased, but he could live with that for now. There was a large, livid bruise all up the right side of his torso, and Sam winced as he shifted position to pull the garment closer around him. A noise in the doorway made him look up, and Sam offered Josef a crooked smile. He didn’t want to show it, but could it be possible that he actually felt shy, of all things? Of all the times for Josef to walk in… ‘Hey,’ he still felt distinctly subdued, but he did his best not to give himself away. Sam wasn’t going to attempt standing up, not just yet, so he stayed where he was and did up his last few buttons as he gave Josef a grateful smile. ‘Thanks for coming.’

[Josef Muller]

Having been in nasty situations—and with more broken bones than Josef ever cared to count—it was, perhaps, understandable that Josef didn’t quite believe Sam when he said he was okay. He paused at the description of the accident, and resisted the urge to swear. Now was not the time to go mother-hen on Sam. For one, it would probably freak the other man out. He seemed strained enough just asking for a favor, and Josef doubted that preparing to go questing on his behalf would help. No, better to be calm and friendly.

“Shit, Sam.” Well, it wasn’t completely clean, but at least it was milder than the original words that had come to his mind. And cleaner than the original sentiment. “I’m…very glad you’re all right, then.” His lips twitched into a faint smile at the thanks. “It’s no problem. See you in a bit.” And he hung up and walked out, pausing only to salute wryly to his students. He got into the car and headed to the hospital. But he did make a quick stop at his house for a certain object.

He made it to the hospital in thirty minutes, as promised, and took the steps two at a time. He stopped briefly at the door to regain his breath, then stepped into the doorway as Sam was buttoning up the shirt. Needless to say, by the time Sam would have looked up, Josef wouldn’t have been smiling. Thankfully, his frown seemed to have been more out of concern. And as Sam smiled at him, he smiled back—his just as crooked—and nodded. He seemed to have something behind his back.

“Hey. ‘Course. You don’t leave a friend in the hospital. It’s a dangerous place here, you know. Too many needles. And they always find something wrong with you.” Like Sam, Josef had avoided the more…revealing labels. He was also pulling out the bad jokes, because it was that or fussing, and he was trying very hard not to pick up the patient information sheet or buzz in the nurse to interrogate her. Damn it, and that was something he’d hoped would get better with age, not worse.

Instead of doing any of those things, though, he stepped into the room and, quite solemnly, pulled a large, fluffy teddy bear from behind his back. In its paws, instead of a heart or something equally sappy, was a bottle of fairly strong painkillers. He’d acquired this particular gift when he’d first broken his ribs. He thought it was fitting to pass it on now.

“Just don’t take them until we’re out of here, huh? Or the nurse’ll have my hide.” He put it on the table, then settled in a chair. And then, because he couldn’t really resist anymore, he added, “Shouldn’t they have wrapped your ribs at least? That’s gotta hurt like hell.”

[Sam Caraway]

The sudden and unexpected appearance of the teddy bear startled Sam into laughter – something he instantly regretted when pain lanced through his torso. ‘My knight in shining armour!’ he said, looking up at Josef with a bright smile. ‘Maybe I can mix them with these,’ he told the older man mischievously, producing a small white cardboard box that the doctor had given him. ‘He said I shouldn’t take them when I was alone in the house, so you know they’re going to be fun.’

When he had the buttons of his shirt done up, Sam began the process of pulling his coat on – not easy, as every movement seemed to pull on his bruised and damaged right side. When Josef mentioned his ribs, Sam gave him a rueful look which implied that yes, it did hurt like hell.

‘You know, the doctor did give me a reason for that – I’m not sure I was coherent enough to be paying attention.’ It wasn’t quite that simple, but Sam wasn’t going to go into the details. The problem he had with being a meta was the moments like this, when people really should know to leave you alone, but didn’t because you telling them would probably make them look at you a lot differently, which put Sam off telling anyone. So while the doctor had been telling him things which were probably quite important, Sam had been too busy trying to work out exactly how being hit by a car had affected his already limited control over his probability manipulation. More specifically, he had been buried in the cause-and-effect calculations he could usually make easily, but whatever the doctors had given him had fuzzed his brain enough that multi-tasking had eluded him.

And saying ‘Would you mind telling me all this later, because I’m a meta-human and I’d appreciate the time to work out what my power is doing’ was definitely off the agenda. Suddenly announcing that kind of thing did not endear you to anyone, at least not in Sam’s experience. So Sam had pretended to understand what was going on, while actually he’d really been concentrating on how the person he could see smoking out of the window next door to him was not going to set anything on fire.

That was all too difficult to explain to Josef right now, so Sam just opted for playing dumb. He grinned at his friend, steadying himself on the edge of the bed. ‘You ready?’ he asked, as if he were about to perform some kind of exciting card trick. Carefully, Sam got to his feet, smiling triumphantly when he had done so – although his side felt as if it were on fire. It took a moment for him to steady his breathing, and he was pretty sure he must be rather pale. He turned to Josef conspiratorially. ‘C’mon – let’s go before the staff change their minds!’

[Josef Muller]

Josef winced in sympathy at the laugh. “Maybe I’ll have to refrain from the jokes for a while. And I’d warn you against mixing medication, but I suspect you’ve gotten the whole lecture already.” He smiled at him, absently wondering what Sam on medication would be like. He suspected it would be…interesting. Especially if those pills were as strong as he suspected they were.

He almost moved forward to help Sam with the coat, but refrained. If the other man wanted help, he would have said. He just had to keep reminding himself of that. He figured this particular form of self-control would last all of five minutes, but it was still good to make the attempt for now. Judging by the way he was frowning again, he didn’t agree with the doctor’s idea of no brace. Well, maybe he could talk to him later—bring it up subtly while…no. He didn’t want Sam to be left alone. Not like this.

“Well, they tend to either speak too quickly for normal people, or so slowly you’d like to hit them over the head with something, so I doubt anyone would blame you for that.” He smiled at Sam and rose to his feet as well. Curiously enough, the “zen” expression was back on his feet as he eyed his friend. This was because Josef was considering just how to persuade Sam to let Josef wheel him out in the wheelchair he might have “left” by the door. It might have still been a hospital rule, but he wasn’t altogether sure. He’d have to check.

“Good plan,” he said idly, and followed the other man out.

((Continued in Medications and Sleep Deprivation))