Shattered Sunshine

Morphine Dreams

Oscar

The hospital lights glowed that soft yellowish humming brightness, keeping me awake despite the fact that the morphine refused to let my mind focus on anything. It didn't help with the pain, it just numbed my ability to form a rational thought on the matter and I found myself wishing for the ability to move.

But that was the kicker, wasn't it?

The cosmic joke that had every part of my soul and being ripped and torn, to be tossed into the endless chasm that was the centre of my chest. The only thing I could feel was the fear and uncertainty of knowing that I couldn't move my body. And it was too soon to know if the preventative cast that kept me in this rigid, uncompromising position would allow my back to heal enough that I wouldn't be paralyzed the moment I did try to move.

I wanted to be angry at the world, furious at life. Absolutely unforgiving with myself for wasting all those years chasing the rush and fun of the rodeo. I could blame my friend who had died over a year ago, leaving me to fend for myself against the beasts that finally felled me. But I couldn't be mad at him, he would have been here beside me right now. Unlike anyone else from the job, though I did appreciate the fruit basket that sat out of reach that I couldn't eat anyways because of the liquid diet required for people with broken backs.

Cowboys don't cry.

But if I can't walk anymore, can I ever be considered a cowboy?

Tears leak out of the corner of my eyes and I try to blink them away, staring angrily at the ceiling as I grit my teeth in frustration. My fingers move, I can move everything, but they have me so locked into place that I can only shift my fingertips.

"Mr. Castal?" A doctor I haven't seen before steps up to the bedside, frowning as she looked down at me. "Do you need more morphine?"

I would normally shake my head, instead I sigh and close my eyes. "No. I'd rather not have anymore, ma'am."

"I'm Doctor Euripida. I'm currently here evaluating your case file. Do you feel cognizant enough to make medical decisions?" Her expression seemed genuinely sympathetic, and she didn't glance to the clipboard that she held in one hand.

Her other hand moved to press her wrist against my forehead, her skin cool against mine. "You are warm."

"I'm alright. You guys gunna pull the plug? I've already agreed to donate all my insides and shit." I paused, frowning softly. "Sorry."

The doc grinned ever so slightly at me, offering me a wink. "I won't tell anyone that you swore. No. Quite the contrary. I work for a research hospital and we want to offer you the opportunity to try experimental new treatments. The wait list here is long, and your company is fighting just how much they need to provide you in the way of insurance."

"I've seen this episode of Black Mirror before. I'm not going to become an android or a zombie or a computer hologram." I closed my eyes again, sighing.

"Have you heard of Knight Corp?" I pulled my eyes open once more, frowning at the woman as I tried to remember where I had heard that name.

I tried to think about it, but for the strangest reason, the name sat on the edge of my mind, but I couldn't quite manage. Where had I heard it before? The morphine made it harder to get my brain moving.

Finally I sighed. "I think so."

"We provide medical treatment to those in need of it, without insurance or coverage. Knight Corp hires only the best onto their staff, and we have made huge advancements in our fields. And we only request that once the patient is healed, they donate blood for a predetermined amount of time. Their family members can donate for them as well."

"I have no family, Doc." I wanted to shrug and to shake my head or do anything to express myself.

All I knew was that I couldn't live like this. If I were to be paralyzed, I would need to travel to wherever they would let me kill myself, somewhere in Europe probably. "What's the catch?"

"No catch." She offered a smile. "We will get you walking again. Knight Corp also invests in tech research, including people who have created exoskeletons that can be controlled through your mind. Even if your body doesn't listen to us, we will find a way to get you out of this bed."

Nothing is that simple.

She didn't look untrustworthy, but still. "I don't know. There's got to be a catch."

"I understand your hesitation. I can have our legal department explain it to you, Mr. Castal."

"Oscar is fine." I mumbled, closing my eyes. "If it doesn't work, or if I don't want to do it anymore, can I opt out?"

"Of course. At any time." I felt her hand on mine and opened my eyes to look at her again, seeing an odd amount of understanding in her gaze as she watched me. "Oscar. Your friend heard what happened to you and he told me to tell you that you shouldn't have picked Old Daisy."

I squeeze her hand, gently, but only because I can move my fingers and it's the only thing I can do, frowning at her as the statement sat heavily in my mind. I didn't at all. There's only one person who knew about Old Daisy, a steer that was dead ten years ago, and that person was dead.

She must have seen the question in my gaze, because she nodded to me and offered another reassuring smile. "I promise you, you will not ever have to opt out."

"Ok." I murmured softly, feeling her squeeze my hand in return, even as she offered me a smile. Nothing was making sense at the moment. But I don't believe for a second that they can trap me in a computer or anything, despite my reference to the show. If it didn't work out, I could figure out how to sort this mess out and they could harvest the leftovers.

I swear to god the woman read my mind, frowning as she watched me before she finally lifted the clipboard up and pulled her hand away, beginning to fill in the sheet in front of her. "Excellent. We'll have you transferred to our hospital this afternoon and once you're settled, in, we'll start with the treatment."

"And payment?"

"Not until you're recovered, Oscar." She laughed softly and turned to walk from the room. "I will see you this evening once you're settled in. You'll understand more by then, I promise. "

I couldn't even turn my head to watch her walk away, left to stare at the ceiling as sleep still refused to take me. I fucking hate morphine. Though I did notice now that the three other people that are in the room with me are oddly quiet. They had been groaning and shifting all night, asking for another hit of painkillers, shitting their pants, crying out in their sleep. I'm the youngest person in this room, but the most fucked up.

But all of them are asleep. They had been the entire time the doctor was in the room. How did I not notice that?

With a frown, I close my eyes. Lucky old bastards.

Sleep still didn't come, but it's easier to think in the dark, than when you're staring at halogen lights.

I wish I could remember what had happened two nights ago. But my memory is smudged between before the show started as I was slipping on my protective vest and when I woke up in the hospital, braced to all hell and in excruciating pain being told I had broken my back and may be paralyzed..

I definitely shouldn't have picked Old Daisy. The steer that was destined to kill me. But back then, Daryl had saved my life. Why did that idiot have to get run over by a god damned car?