Chapter 99: Moby

The lights are bright, so fucking white they're blinding. My head is pounding but for the first time in months, I don't feel pain-my hips, my knees, my arms, none of them hurt. Turning my head to the side, I attempt to peek through my lids. Next to me sits my wife balled up in a plastic chair, her head resting on her folded arm. She looks miserably uncomfortable, and she's not wearing the clothes she had on this morning.

I don't wake her or call for the nurse. Sleep lures me back into the veil of darkness where I'm comfortably numb.

"He's moved around some, but I don't think he's woken up." Piper's voice is still that of an angel no matter how many times I hear it.

"We're keeping him pretty heavily dosed on morphine to ward off the pain until we can figure out what's causing it. It will be difficult for him to come out of it as long as he continues to receive it. If he does, it will be fleeting, maybe a minute or two. His vitals are strong, so rest is the best thing we can give