Head hurts. Ribs hurt. Arms hurt. Stomach hurts. Balls hurt.
Actually, pretty much everything hurts. Apparently the morphine wears off a lot quicker than I'd imagined it would. That or I've been unconscious a lot longer than I thought. I let out a groan and open my eyes to see a nurse with her fingers on my right wrist. Mainly because my other one appears to be in a cast. Oh, good.
"Ah, you're awake," she smiles, letting go of me to write something down on a clip board.
"Fuck," I moan, closing my eyes again.
"Mr Fuller, yes?" I sort of groan something that sounds vaguely like a ‘yes'. "Have you got any next of kin we can call?" I sigh a little and open one eye.
"Where's my phone? I'll call him."
"My boyfriend." She looks kinda surprised by this answer, but she opens the drawer of the little cabinet beside me and hands me my phone. I unlock it and am greeted with a barrage of texts and missed calls from Hadley, each text more worried than the last. "Ah, shit," I mutter.
"I missed my flight and now my boyfriend's probably dying of worry." I don't give her a chance to reply to that before dialling my home number. I don't care if it's a stupid time of day. I'm in too much pain, and too pissed off to care if I wake him up.
"I missed my flight, didn't I?" it's only now that I realise just how hoarse I sound. I sound like I'm about to die or something. I certainly feel like I'm about to die.
"Yeah. Where are you?"
"Y'know how when I was a kid, I used to get bullied? Seems they remember me. We had a nice little chat about the past." A nice little chat that involved fists.
"Are you okay?" He pauses, as if he's just realised what he's said. "Okay, dumb question."
"Oh, I'm just dandy. My arm's in a cast and I feel like I'm about to die. I'm fine."
"Oh..." he sounds a little taken aback, but I'm busy glaring at the nurse who just started prodding me and fixing up bandages and stuff. It's kinda painful.
"Ow, piss off," I growl at her, before turning my attention back to Hadley. "Sorry."
"Want me to come to London?"
"I don't plan on sticking around. One sec," I look back at the nurse, "When can I get out of here?"
"Well, we need to keep you in a few more nights at least to check that your condition is stable. You could have concussion or an internal injury that isn't apparent yet. Even if you discharged yourself today, you wouldn't be able to fly."
"Oh, for fuck's sake. I'm not allowed to fly, so it's up to you."
"Then I'm coming to see you."
"You can use the card I left on the phone table to pay for the flight."
"'Kay. I'm coming as soon as I can."
"I'll try to be less bitchy by the time you get here," I laugh weakly.
"You can be as bitchy as you want, gorgeous."
"Good. Then get your fucking ass over here. I need a hug." He chuckles and I scowl as the nurse goes back to retying a bandage.
"There's a flight in a couple hours, that's the best I can do."
"I'll see you later then."
"I'll be as quick as I can."
"Okay. Love you. Bye," I mutter.
"Love you too," he says and hangs up.
After a while the nurse explains to me that the guys who beat me up broke my wrist and my collar bone, and I have severe bruising over other parts of my body, and some kind of head injury. I told her I didn't care, so long as I could fly ASAP. It's not like I don't have health insurance in America; if something goes wrong, I can just go to the hospital there.
Apparently that wasn't good enough for her and she just dosed me up on morphine and left me to bitch inwardly about stuff. Like how I'm not allowed to go out for a smoke.