25 August 2014
Hive wakes up!
<NYC> Mount Sinai Hospital – Harlem
There's a sameness about hospitals, same antiseptic smell, same background beeps and the roll of wheels and crackling of intercoms, same mix of interminable waiting and lots of /bustle/. Same cafeteria food and vending machine meals after cafe hours.
It's quiet in Hive's room again. At least it's /hospital/ quiet, full of all the background noises of machinery and people moving hither and thither outside the room. The people in /this/ room are quiet. Hive remains unconscious in the hospital bed at the middle of it all, setting the tone. Micah is dressed in casual clothes (powder blue Totoro face T-shirt and jeans), betraying a trip home after work before he ended up here, working at a laptop set up on a portable bedside table pulled up to his chair. He is curled into an interesting--if not entirely comfortable--position in a cardiac reclining chair that was finagled for the room, given the number of people staying there through all hours of the day of night. Sometimes someone needs to sleep. Which is what Jax seems to be doing in the chair half beside and half on top of Micah, contributing to the creative twist to reach the laptop. Apparently Micah felt prompted to be productive after a certain period of chair cuddles.
Jax seems entirely unapologetic about the awkward position he has forced his husband into -- unapologetic mainly on account of being very much asleep tucked in (more comfortably!) at Micah's side. He is also casual, if not quite at usual /sleep/ levels of casual. Purple skinny jeans, black t-shirt with brightly coloured tropical birds and flowers splashed across it. His arm curls against Micah's torso, face mooshed at the older man's side. While earlier he had been quite intensely twitchy with restless sleep-terrors this has settled down into a very faint sporadic twitching, tiny whimpers that soon quiet. What /hasn't/ calmed, though, are the images that sprout and shift around them, intermittently transforming the hospital -- well. The sterile white and bright lights and medical equipment aren't that out of place here, really. The bits of blood and bone and bodies are a little bit moreso.
Initially there's not all that much change to indicate Hive awakening. In his bed he's still, quiet, not much moving or even any familiar press of mind. Just a slow cracking-open of eyes, an equally slow closing of them again. Another sleepy peek -- though this second time his eyes shoot open wider a moment later. /He/ is still quiet, but the sudden sharp /spike/ in the previously calm and steady blipping of his heart monitor is a ready enough sign of distress.
Micah is a little too used to tuning out the world outside of his immediate personal space bubble when Jax is sleeping. It's generally for the best to pay no mind to whatever is moving in one's peripheral vision when there are nightmare projections going on. As such, Hive's eyes opening fail to catch his attention. The change in rate and tone on the monitors is enough to roust him, however; Jax's illusions don't come with /sound/. He closes the laptop and shoves the table aside, then works on extricating himself from his Jax-tangle, slip-wiggling his way free to dart across the floor to Hive's bedside. He lets his face come in view of the telepath before taking his hand, with some care for the lines and leads attached to it. “Hive. Hive, honey, it's Micah. You're in the hospital an' you're just wakin' up from the surgery t'remove your brain chip an' resect what they could of the tumour. Try t'be calm.” He does tap the nurse call button on the bed rail; it’s just the regular orange one, not the emergency red just yet. Major changes in patient status require medical attention but Hive may calm without the rush-team.
Normally a light sleeper, nearly two months without managing sleep has left Jax rather more than usually exhausted. He tenses when Micah wriggles free but after this just curls a little tighter into the chair, the bloody Prometheus-imagery not fading.
Hive's wide eyes shift towards Micah for a second but fail to really focus on the other man; he looks more /through/ Micah before his gaze returns to the bloody room around them. The quicker shallower rate of his breathing is growing more agitated to match his rapid heartrate. His fingers twitch in Micah's, pressing against the other man's but not gripping.
Micah's fingers wrap a little tighter around Hive's where they can, giving a little squeeze. “Hive...” His words trail off at the other man's eyes darting around the room, the realisation sudden enough to throw /Micah's/ eyes open wide. “Ohgosh, honey, no. Jax's asleep an' doin' his projectin' thing. None of that's real. You're at Mount Sinai. You're safe. Me'n Jax are here.” He turns just long enough to regard the sleeping photokinetic. “Jax! Jackson, wake /up/.” If words don't work, he grabs a tissue from the tissue box on the bedside table, crumples it, and aims it at Jax's jaw. How /little/ he'd be trying to wake his husband in almost any other circumstance! “That'll go away. It's just illusions. It'll go away when he wakes up. You're /safe/ an' we're here.”
The sound of his name makes Jax twitch again, the illusions in the room briefly fuzzing. The tissue-ball makes him actually stir, grumbling a sleepy wordless complaint as one hand gropes outward in search of Husband. Finding none, he struggles upright, eye cracking open -- then opening wider, startled, images around the room vanishing. "Ohgosh, honey-honey." Still a bit too sleepy-brained himself to realize the /source/ of Hive's distress, his face just lights in a warm smile. "G'mornin', sunshine. Missed you." OK so it's evening but who's counting?
By the time the images fade and a nurse is arriving to answer the call button, there are bright tears in Hive's eyes and a distinct tension in his bony frame. Also a rather queasy pallor to his complexion that is probably not Jax's doing. The nurse is thankfully well enough versed in all this that before any other part of her routine there is a helpful plastic tub procured to set in front of Hive. Possibly in Micah's custody. In answer to the greetings and assurances of support and safety Hive gives a sudden shudder, a very eloquent: 'hrrrk'.
“Apologies for the abrupt wake up call, sugar, but your nightmares were a little much for Hive just wakin' up,” Micah explains, a little too /busy/ to be properly sheepish about throwing things at Jax's face. His hand stays where it is on Hive's, physical presence intended to reassure. “Okay, honey, the nurse is here t'see what's up since y'just woke up. She's real an' she's here t'/help/ you.” Micah turns to acknowledge the scrubs-clad woman making her way onto the scene. “He's only just come to. S'disoriented an' frightened but I been tryin' t'orient 'im since I hit the call bell.” He takes the tub without question. “Hive, sugar. If you're feelin' sick, there's a tub here, okay? I'm bringin' it close t'you.” He leans in to place it as conveniently for use as possible, right along with his narration.
Jax's eye opens wide, his mouth forming a small O as realization dawns. "Ohgosh," has a very different tone to it this time, but with Hive awake and upset this brief comprehension is all the time he wastes on Guilt. He slips closer to Hive's bed, staying out of the nurse's way. "Sweetie, s'just us here. You're okay. We're right here an' you're okay. -- I'm gonna start lettin' folks know, aright?" This last is aside to Micah, his hand reaching for his phone in his pocket.
Hive for a while isn't really in any place to answer, leaned over the tub for a few minutes of retching, though there isn't much /in/ his stomach to bring back up. It takes a bit before he slumps back, shivering where he lies. It's only now that he really looks at Jax and Micah. His eyes scrunch up tightly, then open again. "Hngh?" It's... admittedly not much /more/ eloquent.
“S'okay, Jax, y'weren't doin' nothin' on purpose,” Micah replies soothingly, trying to head off whatever Guilt is sure to follow as he holds the tub steady. He sets it aside, out of the way on the bedside table since it only has a few splashes of bile in it. These things are all relative in a hospital. “S'prob'ly gonna be a little hard t'talk at first, Hive-honey. Y'been out for a few days. Y’want just a little water or an ice chip t'wet your mouth with? Prob'ly /drinkin's/ gonna be a bit much yet.” He nods acknowledgement of Jax's plan. “Yep. We're s'posed t'call three. Spread it 'round dif'rent houses, maybe? One of the pups, Mel, Flicker... They can let the rest of their houses know an' then start the phone chain. Just...remind folks that if they're comin', they can do it at more of a mosey than a dash. Don't want an' they prob'ly won't /let/ dozens of folks in here all as a mob.”
"Right. 'kay. I'll call 'em." Jax's fingers drum against his phone, and he doesn't immediately leave, instead leaning down to press a kiss to Hive's knuckles. "S'been a few days," he answers the wordless questioning, "jus' take it easy, aright? You ain't in no rush for anything. Got a lot of folks around what love you an' we're gonna be here." His fingers trail against the back of the telepath's hand before he slips out of the room with his phone.
Hive's lips, cracked and chapped, part again; his tongue traces over them like he's only just noticing how dry his mouth is. He turns his hand slowly over to brush fingertips back against Jax's hand. His head tips in a small nod at Micah's question. "Water --" It's kind of a croak. He perks just slightly at Mel's and Flicker's names, glancing around hopefully and then looking back to Micah.
“Thanks, love,” Micah calls softly after Jax as he announces his intent and makes for the door. His head shakes in answer to Hive's silent question. “No. Jax an' I were on this shift. We been breakin' it up, only two-three people stayin' at a time, promisin' t'call three folks if y'woke up an' they'd each call three an’ so on. So everyone's gonna know right soon. I imagine Mel an' Flicker'll get here as soon as they can. They been here a /lot/ the past few days. Tola, too. Everyone's doin' okay.” He doesn't release Hive's hand as he streeetches to reach that ever-present pitcher of slowly melting ice chips and pour a small amount into a plastic cup at its side. This he brings over to Hive's lips, tipping it /just/ enough for him to take the tiniest of sips. “Just a touch at a time, hon. Don't wanna overdo it.”
There's a small crease that appears between Hive's brows when Micah confirms that Mel and Flicker aren't there, though it smoothes out at Tola's name. He tips his head forward to take a thirsty sip, licking his lips again afterwards. Once this is completed though, that crease starts returning. "Mngh," he tries again, scrunching up his eyes again. "My head --" Only one eye opens back up, focusing on Micah uncertainly.
“S'okay, sugar, talkin' might be hard. Both your mouth an' your head...still gonna be a little swellin' in your brain tissues. So things might feel or act weird for a bit an' that's t'be expected.” Micah watches Hive's expressions for any facial droop or strange behaviour of his eyelids or pupils. Opening only one eye earns a suspicious and assessing look. “D'you need more pain meds.? Nurse's here, I can let 'er know.”
Hive's face is largely behaving as normal, though his eyes are somewhat puffy and dark. He nods slowly at the question of pain meds but after this shakes his head. Which contradicts his next answer of, "... hurts." His eye stays scrunched, hand starting to lift towards his head but then dropping back to his bed. "I need --" His voice is still croaky. "My. Brain."
“I'm sure it does. Y'let me know the second y'/do/ want more pain meds. an' I'll pass that along. Or if y'want another sip of water or anythin'.” Micah remains right up against Hive's bed, practically sitting on it by this point, still not releasing his hand. “S'gonna be feelin' off for awhile, yeah, hon. S'the swellin'.” He gives the hand another little squeeze. “Joshua's been here now an' then t'help with the recovery. I'm sure with you awake now there's even more he could do.”
Hive's other eye finally opens, his head shaking slowly. "No, I can't. You're not." He makes a small noise of frustration, teeth clenching and gritting together. "Here," he says through his teeth. He exhales sharply and slumps back in the bed. When his eyes close again, this time there is a heavy sleepiness to it.
“Oh. Your ability ain't workin' right yet? I imagine that could be another side effect, 'least for now, honey. We're not gonna know how anythin'll pan out for awhile.” In the meantime, Micah seems set to make himself as /here/ in every other way as possible. He does finally push his way into the bed, sitting right next to Hive and cradling his hand in his lap. “You sleep if y'need. S'a lot t'get past. An' if y'need meds or water or anythin', y'tell me. Folks'll be comin' by again soon enough. An' Joshua, t'help. Things should be gettin' better from here.” His head cants slightly, his posture leaning just a little closer to Hive. “Love you, hon.”
Hive nods, a little relieved when his meaning gets across. Just a little; there's still an unhappy tension in him likely spurred by the -- well, everything. He rests his head against Micah's side, fingers loosely curling around the other man's hand. He doesn't try for any more words after this, just settling close to drift off back to sleep.
Rather a /veteran/ of being in hospitals both as a patient and a visitor, Micah has no qualms about settling into the bed next to Hive. He kicks his shoes off at the bedside, lying down beside Hive to give him a better place to snuggle as he drifts off again.