The Curse of Thelonious [✓]

thirty five

"I don't care if you've never seen me before!" the mans voice yelled, a contrast against the quiet buzzing of the building. "Move!"

Atlas felt himself stir, his body aching and his head in excruciating pain. He tried to lift a hand to touch the source of the pain but it was too much, his arm was too tired. With a slow precision, he slowly opened his eyelids, wincing when the bright light interrupted the darkness.

The ceilings were white, stark white. He tried to turn his head to see where he was but he couldn't manage, it hurt too much. He frowned, his skin tight against his face and his vision slightly blurry.

A loud bang woke him up completely as a flurry of people rushed in. His uncle sprinted towards him, concern highlighted across his face. "Atlas? Oh thank God! I'm so sorry Atlas, how could I be so stupid to leave you to come back here alone after reading that book? Oh God, I'm such an idiot, I'm so sorry."

Atlas only stared at Lane in confusion, why was he here? Where was he?

Seeing his nephews eyes shine in hesitation, he sunk into the chair beside the bed, his head in his hands. "You're in hospital Atlas, in hospital! You've been out cold for two days. Lera called me, worried sick to let me know and I got here as soon as I could. Kelvin and the rest of your family are on the way, there's quite a bit of traffic but they'll be here soon."

Atlas opened his mouth and tried to speak but his throat was dry, making him cough which in turn made his chest ache. A nurse bustled over, her bright blue scrubs the only bit of colour in the room. "Mornin' Atlas, it's about time you woke up! Your girlfriend just popped out, she's been here a lot but I sent her home to get some sleep, poor girl. Here, have some water."

She raised the head of the hospital bed slightly with the electronic remote and helped him take a few sips of water with a straw. It tasted disgusting, his mouth having been shut for two days but it was better than nothing. He gulped it down quickly, spluttering when it went down the wrong way.

"Careful," his uncle said, patting his shoulder.

The nurse checked his observations, apologising when he flinched for the blood pressure and filled out her chart. "I'll leave you two to have a chat but press the buzzer if you need anything and I'll be back in a jiffy. And no food yet, just sips of water. Okay?" she chirped, only leaving once she was satisfied he was alright.

"What happened?" Atlas croaked when she had left, not having been in a hospital for a while. The last time he was here, Manning had broken two of his ribs but it couldn't be anything to do with him, it had been a while since he had seen his not-quite-father. Hadn't it?

He couldn't remember.

Lane's powder blue eyes lowered in sadness as he recounted all he knew, Lera hadn't given him all the details but it had been enough. "When you left with that book we found in the library, you and Lera snuck out at night to the graveyard. To try to do an exorcism. Jesus Christ! Why would you try an exorcism?! It could have killed you!"

Atlas was blank, struggling to remember but unable to.

"Anyway, it worked apparently but it made you pretty weak and Lera said that the two of you fell asleep in the cemetery. But the next morning, that little whats-his-name prick tried to attack you, he beat you up and you hit your head on a rock, knocking out cold. The little shit."

His memory was foggy but he faintly remembered Ian's glare so he nodded, wishing he hadn't when his head pounded. It was like small knives were embedding themselves into his skull and he felt tears well in the corners of his eyes at the pain.

"Careful!" Lane exclaimed, relieved that Atlas hadn't moved too much. "You've had a head injury."

They spoke for a while, or at least, Lane did while his nephew listened. Although he had been in the hospital quite a few times before, he had never had any visitors and his heart warmed at the way his uncle tried to keep him entertained.