(no subject)

[backdated to May 7th]

Room 205, Northwestern Memorial Hospital
4:26 PM

Richard, should he care to wake up any time soon, will find that he has company in the hospital bed next to his: Fletcher. He will also notice an IV drip in his arm and a cast on his foot.

At some point in the day, Fletch managed to acquire a rather large gash down the right side of his abdomen. The doctors don't know this, so the bed isn't technically Fletcher's, but he doesn't need it. He can heal. So for now, he's resting, watching news coverage on the shitty little TV attached to the wall.

He's relatively quiet for the most part, careful to let Richard sleep, but then his cellphone rings and a quiet shouting match ensues. "Don't you tell me I'm out of my fuckin' mind! It's calm back there. We have control. This place is... it's like a war zone, Hannah. I know I don't belong here, but I can't just leave it like this in good conscience. And y'know I still haven't done what I came here to do in the first place..."

And so the conversation goes.