Chapter 8: "Really damn sweet!"

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I woke up in the hospital, at least I assume so, because nowhere else ever smelled so disgustingly clean.

I feel like I'm submerged in laundry detergent, and it makes me cough. As I struggle to breath normally, I remember what happened, and I realize the hospital isn't the only reason I'm having issues breathing.

Despite the fresh load of pain rushing to make its self known, all I can think is that I screwed up the show.

My eyes open for the first time, and I'm blinded by the white walls that surround me, and the sun coming in from the window. But once the initial blindness has worn off a little, I find something dark at my bed side I can focus on.

"Hey, you're finally awake." He says, not looking up.

It takes me a moment before I recognize him, his hood up and head down as he focuses on a notebook.

Correction, sketchbook.

"Morgue?"

"Don't seem so surprised, Val. The others went home for a bit, but I stayed incase you woke up." He still didn't look up, and I was kinda thankful he didn't. Without him looking back at me, I was free to watch him myself without feeling awkward.

"Thanks." I said, and I couldn't help a small smile. "How long was I out?"

He thinks about it for a moment, looking up at the clock and revealing his face full on for the first time since I woke up. "About 2 days. That snake of yours did more damage than any of us thought... "

I nodded. There was no surprise in hearing that, I knew there was damage, and I could feel it now. No, the surprise that appeared in my voice as I spoke again was caused by how tired Morgue looked.

"How long have you been here?"

He sits in mock thought for a moment before answering. "2 days. " And he says nothing else as he puts his head back down to the sketchbook, where he is busily doing something.

I nod, and look down a little. It's hard for me to believe that he's been here the whole time. A little here and there I could understand, but he makes it sound like he never left. It's kinda sweet...

Kinda? The word makes me laugh a little to myself. It's really damn sweet.

When I laugh, he peeks up at me briefly before looking back down. "What's funny?"

I find my cheeks heating up a little, and I scramble slightly for a more acceptable answer other than that I think he's sweet. "Uh, nothing... just... was just thinking I need to call my family... let em know I'm ok..."

He nods. "I figured you may want to call someone when you woke up. Your cell is on the table next to you."

See? Really damn sweet.

"Oh, thanks Morgue." I smile a little and pick it up.

3 missed calls from family... here we go...

---

After 2 hours on the phone, most of which was spent reassuring everyone I was ok, and that this was no different than the burns I'd covered in tattoos early on, only internal, I was finally able to say goodbye and put the phone down.

I layed back against the pillow, happy it was so soft.

The whole time I'd been on the phone, Morgue had stayed where he was. It was a little embarrassing at some points, because I knew he could hear them, and he'd chuckle a little. But at the same time, the sound alone healed some part of me.

Eventually, to the sound of Morgue's pencil against paper, I fell asleep again, with a small smile on my face.

Fine for just a moment (A Mister Morgue fanfic) [Freakshow]Where stories live. Discover now