Fosher awakes with a start, his eyes opening to fuzzy whiteness, and he’s worried until he realizes he has fallen asleep, and drooled, on Jase’s blanket. He eases upright, back protesting all the way, and wow, that is the last time he sleeps like that.

The room is dark, door closed on the most likely bustling hospital. A quick glance at the clock tells him night’s fallen while he was off in dreamland. He rubs his eyes roughly, and rolls his shoulders, trying to stretch his back out without doing anything too drastic.

He feels a bit better for it, but not much, and standing right now probably wouldn’t end well. He yawns, and was that his jaw cracking?

“You alive, then?”

And that, that was his heart leaping right out of his chest, laughing hysterically as it runs merrily away.

Somehow, he’s not really too sure about the details, he’s ended up on the floor, chair half on top of him, gazing stupidly up at Jase, who just shakes his head.

“You- you-”

“So articulate.” Jase deadpans, and Fosher scowls, pushing the chair off him and struggling to his feet.

“Says the guy whose only words for the past two weeks have been ‘ngh’ and ‘mrr.’” Fosher mutters, before yanking the door open and sticking his head out. “Doctor!”

Previous: Scene 4-XV

Scene 4-XVI

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