Weary Pilot

Everything's... hazy.

"What's going on? Where... where am I?"

I try to move but I can't. Something's blocking me. I'm suffocating. Heavy.

"Try to relax. You're safe. You're in the medical ward."

I try to open my eyes. The light is blinding, so I shut them again. I guess someone must have caught that because I hear them whispering. The lights dim significantly, but it's still hard to see. I squint, keeping them open just enough to see blurry images of what I assume are people.

"Where?"

"Stonehaven," answers the masculine voice to my right. "In the trauma center. You're quite lucky to be alive, to be honest."

British. I'm in England. Yes. Stonehaven, I remember now. That's where I was stationed. But why am I in the trauma center? "What happened?"

Someone to my left excuses themselves, leaving me alone with the man I assume to be my doctor. "There was an explosion in the hanger. You were caught in the blast and severely wounded. You've been in a coma for four days."

Four days?

My mind starts to race, trying to reconcile everything I am hearing with what I could piece together from memory. Again I try to move, but still i'm paralyzed.

"Why can't I move?"

The doctor sighs as he types something on his tablet. "We gave you a spinal block to help with the pain and keep you from injuring yourself any further. You nearly fell off the bed the first morning."

A spinal block? What the hell happened to me? I'm starting to panic now. By breathing is shallow and I can feel my heart racing. I can't move, but still I try to do something. Roll over, grab the bed. Anything that makes me feel like I have some measure of control, but nothing works.

"Remy, calm down. I know it's a lot to take in but you need to stay calm." The doctor places his hand on my forehead. His hand is warm, which does help a little. At least I can feel something. Slowly I start to wind down. The beeping monitor next to me has quit alarming.

"When can I get out of here? I need to get back to work."

"It's... going to be a while. Your body has been put through the ringer, so it's going to need time to recover."

A while?! How long is a while? Why won't they let me get back to work? I'm supposed to be in a cockpit right now, but here I am, laying in a bed, completely helpless. Out of desperation my eyes start to wander the room, looking for some thing or some one that can help me get out of here. Eventually they land on a mirror facing my bed, and that's when I notice something odd.

"Doctor.... Hannigan?" I finally manage to check out the name on the board of attending faculty where his name, as well as the nurses and CNAs, are written.

"... where are my legs?"

Startled I sit bolt upright, my body covered in sweat, causing my hospital gown to cling to my skin. My sheets are soaked and twisted, and my pillow found its way to the floor next to my bed. What happened? What did I just experience? Desperate for answers I tear at the sheets and blankets until I see my legs still attached to my body. My eyes scan the room just like they had before, and I find that most everything is the same, except the names on the board. That, and I have the ability to move.

My heart monitor must have been alarming at the nurses station, sending several staff members rushing to my room. They throw open the door and rush in, only to find me up and alert, staring right back at them.

"It's okay," one of the nurses says, a short Asian woman with a pretty face and big brown eyes. "Monitors just glitched out. Have Margie cancel the code please."

Most of the staff leaves the room, but the Asian nurse and another attendant stay behind to talk to me. "My name's Wen Li. Do you know who you are?"

Her question implies that I suffered some sort of head trauma. "Remy," I reply, my throat dry and raspy. "It stings when I talk."

Wen Li approaches my bed cautiously, like she's afraid of me. Her assistant won't even come near me. "Makes sense. You had a breathing tube in your throat for a few days."

"Where am I? What happened?" My questions, though generic, were important to me. I can't remember anything that happened right before I woke up and I don't like being in the dark like this.

"You're at Sacred Heart. They brought you here after an explosion in the hanger." Wen's voice is soft and comforting. She's not the cold, uncaring type it seems. That's good. I had enough of those growing up. "You were hurt pretty bad, but you're recovering really well."

Slowly I lay my head back down, but hold about half way when I realize that my pillow is still on the floor. Wen Li's assistant, whose name was Erin, according to the board, finally moved deeper into the room and replaced it with a clean pillow, allowing me to lay back down fully. Deeply I sigh, a mistake I realize too late. Ribs must be broken.