Medical City Hospital
Bright, wide lights hang from the ceiling, casting the clean and sterile surroundings with brilliant light. A reception area sits centered before the door where people can check in, or ask for directions to other areas within the hospital. Past the desk is a small hallway with elevators leading to the upper floors, and signs that point to radiology.
Two large metal doors to the left of the entrance lead outside to the ambulance loading dock. The doors are marked 'EMERGENCY ONLY' in large red letters.
Paige has been restricted to her bed and that means her hospital room all DAY. All day, like, aaaalll day. And she was not happy about it. You know, when she was actually awake enough to recognize that she was unhappy about it. But now, it's late in the night, Skylar is sleeping in the chair not far from her bed and Paige is looking to break O-U-T out. She's been duly and completely bandaged and further damage proofed, and she's even got her little wheelchair to scoot around in, complete with IV drip. Once she put on her best sad panda face for the duty tech working the overnight shift. Paige hits the ground running, as she escapes the elevator, rolling her way over towards the ICU room where they've been hiding Hugo as fast as her little arms can manage it. Which…is not that fast. But, eventually, she makes it down the hallway, and into his room, not touching the lights at all, and checking, to see if he's sleeping or awake.
—-
The ICU is pleasantly quiet and the wing that holds Hugo is for the more stable patients, which means even quieter. The lights in Hugo's room are dimmed but not completely off. For all intents and purposes it would seem that Hugo is asleep, but as Paige wheels over to the door, his head turns slightly in that direction at the sound, eyes opening up slowly, lids at half-mast before he croaks uncertainly, "Hullo?" The left side of his face is swollen and bruised, a large bandage covering his temple. He looks a little like a racoon, with one eye blacked and puffy, the color and the swelling slowly extending over the bridge of his nose to circle the other. His left arm is in a cast from shoulder to palm, his fingers at least free and loose. The rest of him is covered in light blankets, but there's no other obvious injuries to be seen.
—-
Paige tries to be very, very quiet. She really does, but it doesn't help that her chair squeak squeaks as she turns the wheels. Still, it's not like she's trying to hide, necessarily. Just you know…okay, maybe she was trying to just sneak in here. Still, with Hugo turning, and awake enough to recognize that someone new's in the room with him, she comes clean, "It's Paige." She moves closer to the bed, not wanting him to have to twist around at all to see her, reaching out a hand to touch the back of his good hand, "Came up to check in on you." Her own voice is still raspy, from the choking, and overly quiet, more for the fact that the bandaging is so tight it makes it hard to get a good breath of air, "Came up to keep you company for a while, see how you're doing. You look good."
—-
There's a moment of confusion as Hugo murmurs, "Paige?" as if trying to figure out just why she would be here visiting him. But her name in turn sparks his memory and jerking slightly to sit up he hisses, "Paige!" before grunting and settling back down again with soft hiss of pain. Moving, not a good idea. His lips curl weakly and Hugo starts to laugh before that too is aborted with a soft, but not sorry, "Owwwww. Liar. I look like I been run over by a truck, which is apparently what happened??" He doesn't remember? His hand turns slowly as she places hers atop it, fingers lightly curling about Paige's fingers as he tries to get a good look at her through his swollen eyes. "Well you look like crap," he replies, though there's a hint of fear in his voice as he asks, "Why are you in a wheelchair….?" his imagination already running away with him and going to the worst places.
—-
"Hugo, if you don't lie back down, I'll have to sit on you, and nobody wants to see that. I am not a small woman." Paige tries to play down the worry, the fear in her eyes as she hears the pain in his voice. But it'd be a lie to say she wasn't very, very concerned. "Yes, that's pretty close to what happened. A truck hit us." There's such an irony right now. If only Josephine were here to listen to Paige's internal dialogue, to hear her arguing over if she should tell him what happened or not. "Oh, you. If you keep complimenting me like that, it's going to go right to my head." Paige looks down, rolling herself back and forth in her chair, "Faster than walking, is all." As if she could walk, given how weak she is at the moment, which she can't.
—-
Even with the bruising and the puffiness, it's clear that Hugo is rolling his eyes as he rumbles, "You are a delicate flower of human femininity … well, physically at least." He lays there thoughtfully, echoing, "A truck. I never even saw it. I don't remember much, not clearly at any rate. I was driving, there was an explosion and a lot of pain… and you were there. That's pretty much it. Never saw what hit us. Not even sure where we were going to in the first place?" It couldn't have been his apartment, could it? He vaguely recalls them sorta maybe making up in the coffee shop? Maybe that went better than remembered? Turning his head back to her he asks, "Are you okay? How badly are you hurt?" And then, after a heartbeat, "The truth." He wants to know.
—-
"I am a fine, strapping example of good, wholesome country living, my dear man. And proud of it." She may never say it out loud, but she's certainly a woman who likes looking like a woman, with all the curves and valleys that come with it. Paige squeezes Hugo's hand a second time, before she settles for letting her hand rest in his, until he should think to pull it away, "You were driving me back to the studio, the truck ran the red light when we were going into the intersection and plowed into us. Hit you on your side" She must have made up her mind, because she continues, "I'm fine. A mild concussion, banged up my knees pretty bad, couple of fractured ribs, some other bumps and bruises." She makes no mention of the bandages on her throat. And all she can think is Please God, don't let him ask. Hopefully her hair being down around her shoulders will hide it enough that he won't notice.
—-
Chuckling softly, cause chuckling doesn't hurt, Hugo mmmmms and notes, "Wouldn't want you any other way." He returns the gentle squeeze and seems to have no inclination of pulling away from her. He listens quietly, nodding slowly before asking, "And the driver of the truck? Was he drunk? Or just stupid? Did he get hurt?" The he is an assumption on Hugo's part which he realizes after a moment as he adds, "Or she … " The bandage on her throat is certainly noticed, but since she doesn't elaborate, the obvious guess is some cuts from the glass or something like that. He certainly has no reason to expect anything else. "Damn. I'm so sorry Paige … and you, I recall you sayin' you wanted to walk…" Guilt. The accident wasn't his fault, he knows that, but he still feels guilty. If he hadn't bullied her, she wouldn't have been hurt.
—-
"Well, I'm rather getting used to you the way you are too." Paige settles in, using her free hand to set the brake on one of the wheels, since she can't reach the other without reaching crossbody, which would NOT be a good idea. "I'm thinking stupid. But I don't think his injuries were that severe. As soon as he got clear of the scene, he took off," haha…literally… "before the police and everyone could get there." Which is technically the truth, even if Paige can see the 'You're going straight to H-E-Double Toothpicks' meter getting higher and higher. But the truth, the whole truth, Hugo simply cannot have that right now. She can only hope to God Josephine doesn't blurt it out, "You don't have to be sorry, Hugo. You didn't ask for this accident to happen. A flaming idiot in a stolen truck did this to both of us, and we got out of it, together. That's what matters."
—-
Smirking slightly, Hugo teases, "Is that your way of telling me I'm fat? I swear, it's just swelling from the accident…" Closing his eyes as he listens to her tall tale, Hugo rumbles afterward, "Stolen truck, running a red light, fleeing the scene of a crime, and plowing into a car. Oh, I hope they catch him and throw the book at him." His eyes pop open, as much as they can open, as Hugo rasps, "Shit. If they didn't catch him, then the Porsche… ohhhhh." That's gonna leave a mark on his bank account. His gaze flickers to Paige as he mumbles, "No… but I'm still sorry that I got you hurt. But, like you said, we're both still alive. That's good." His eyes flutter closed again before one opens slyly and he asks, "To the studio? My studio? You mean we were gonna…?" his voice trailing off hopefully
—-
"If there is an ounce of fat on your body, Hugo Bosch, I'm fairly certain it's hidden between your ears." A slight hint of a smile on Paige's lips as she answers the joking question with an equally joking reply, "I'm sure he'll get what's coming to him once he's found." That's one check Paige intends to make sure is taken to the bank and cashed. "But I know what you're thinking, and I don't think they'll tag you for the Porsche. I mean your insurance can't blame you if you were in the right and somebody else messed up the car. Which is exactly what happened." A slight shake of her head, as Paige uses her free hand to fingercomb her hair out of her eyes, the last comment and the question read, not only in words, but in intention, "I know you are, and I appreciate it, even if you weren't the one who got me hurt. And no, we were going back to my place. But you never know, the night was young. Crazy things happen when you're around a film studio." Which is also the truth. Even a small studio like Paige works in is like Melrose Place. So it doesn't hurt to embellish a bit.
—-
Again, Hugo starts to laugh and again he groans and whimpers, "Mea culpa, mea culpa, take pity on a wounded man…." his hand shifting to rest against his stomach lightly. "Holy crap, everything hurts. How is that possible? I feel like a rubber band that's been stretched too tight and then *snap*. Ow, ow, ow…." At her correction, Hugo purses his lips thoughtfully for a moment before replying, "You are sooooo yanking my chain. I remember now. You were about to yack inside of my car…" Sighing wistfully, Hugo gives her a hangdog look that is really more perturbing than cute in his current state. "Tease."
—-
"I'm sorry. I shall return to my aloof, school marm self immediately." But her hand does slip back to her lap, as he moves his good one to his stomach. "It was a hard hit, Hugo. And Porsches are not Audis. They're simply not built to take damage. I mean, your door was caved in," you know, before it got yanked off and all, "you got tossed around like a yoyo by the seatbelt, and the airbag deployed in your face. But if your pain is increasing, I can get the nurse, get them to up your meds. Or I can go, so you can rest." As Hugo calls her out on her little fib, thankfully the one she doesn't mind fessing up to, Paige smiles, "Okay, we never actually got to the part where it might have come up." A beat, "You and me, not the yack." And then, more gently, "But I'm not a tease."
—-
"I can't decide which I like better, they both have that certain appeal. And the school marm does come with the two pencil look. Killer." He grunts softly at her assessment of the accident, a small yawn escaping him as he nods. "Next car is gonna be a Hummer." Frowning a little Hugo ummms and starts searching around gingerly with his fingers, noting, "No, wait, I think there's a thing here… and then he finds the pain meds control, clicking it once and then twice to let it do its magic before relaxing again. He chuckles softly and mumbles, "I like your wit, have I mentioned that before? Very dry and delicious." His head rolls to one side, his gaze a little less focused now that the drugs are floating in his system, asking lazily, "Would you? Have invited me up?"
—-
"Well, I'm told I have a many faceted personality." Well, two facets at least, according to her 'uncle'. Sweet and sour. Which is great for chicken, but, for a person, well. The jury's still out on that. "I could do it right now. If I had a couple of pencils. But that would entail going outside and stealing some from the nurses' station. But if it would make you feel better, I could just nip out there. I'm mobile now." A relieved look, as Hugo gets the magic button and gives it a couple of presses. She's rather he not feel more pain than he has to, that's for damned sure. Just as he feels bad for causing the accident, even though he didn't, she feels just as bad for not doing more to keep him safe. "I think you might have. And i appreciate the compliment." The last, well, she can think about telling the truth, right? I mean he is on the way to a morphine daze, and he can barely remember anything without the drugs, right? "I might have, maybe. It's not as if I haven't, well, noticed how appealing you are. I mean, as we made quite clear a few nights ago, I am not, in fact, a lesbian."
—-
His smile is a bit loopy as he mumbles, "I think they only have pens, but you know.. when in Rome." But he waves a hand and notes, "Your hair is nice down too, though. And I bet the nurses get really tetchy when you borrow their pens. Besides, you're not exactly in stealth mode at the moment. They can probably hear you coming from a mile away with those squeaky wheels. WD-40, woman." Oh yes, there's a very good chance this entire conversation will be forgotten by morning in Hugo's current condition. "No, no, no, I never said that you were a lesbian, I was positing that the other women were not lesbians. Which is a pity really, cause girl on girl action is pretty damn hot…" Right, focus! He's trying to, but his eyelids keep drooping. "You think I'm appealing?" he asks, half surprised and half charmed. "And here I thought that you thought that I was incredibly annoying…" Reaching out his hand toward Paige, Hugo mumbles, "Next time then, I'll let you invite me up to your studio, get on your two pencil look, and seduce me. It'll be fabulous…"
—-
Well, a girl can only pray that the drugs will undo the damage her mouth is causing. Still, it at least seems to have distracted him from the buttload of pain he's got to be in. And what is it they say, if you think happy you are happy? Right. "I'll be sure to see if they can order in a bottle for me before tomorrow night." Paige sets aside the whole bit of the conversation that has to do with girl on girl anything, thank you very much, "I do. But I also think you're annoying. Everyone likes facets, right? Isn't that what makes people so intriguing?" Her hand rises from her lap, settling into Hugo's, as Paige settles in herself, to sit by his bed until the nurses figure out where she is, and either they or her uncle come in to chase her off. "I'm sure it will be. But for now sleep. I'm not going anywhere."
—-
He actually pouts a little as Paige tells him he's annoying, protesting softly, like a little boy, "I am soooooo not annoying. I'm nice. I'm very nice. Everybody will tell you that." His eyes open and close slowly, his fingers curling about hers, warm and gentle. "It will be, Hugo replies firmly. "I'm a great lover. Everybody says sooo," he slurrs a little. Oh boy, the drugs he's on must be the good ones. But as his eyes drift shut for the last time he mumbles, "Thank you, Paige … "
—-
Paige isn't fooled by that pout, or by the pretty face, even as banged up as it is. She can tell when she's being fed a story. She knows for a fact there's at least one person in the world besides herself who finds Hugo, well, annoying, maybe that's not quite the right word, but well, anyway. "I'll get back to you once I ask everybody." A slight shift to the side, so that her hand can rest more comfortably on the bed, and Paige settles in, "On both counts." But it's not really her intention to push him on, to goad him to fight the drugs. And it's really his final words that are more important than any boast, drug-induced or not, "You're welcome, Hugo."
