Forgotten

Billie and I went back to the doctor's office, looking at the depressing white walls. They were so boring..The secretary let us into the room and said the doctor would be in any minute.

Billie set me down in one of the chairs and sat down in the other one. The room was simple: a desk and rolling chair, two plastic chairs, an examination table, and several posters about the human anatomy. Next to me, I heard Billie yawn.

"I'm really sorry I've kept you up this late. If I wasn't so damned clumsy...." I looked down, embarrassed that I was the cause of his fatigue.

"No, it's not your fault. We just played a show, it's not easy to stay awake for long after that. Don't worry about it." He looked like he really needed some sleep. I suppose being on tour for months wasn't the greatest for getting lots of sleep. It didn't help that he was an insomniac.

Before I could say anything, the doctor walked in, clipboard in hand. He looked tired, too. I was still jacked up from the concert! That was definitely a major adrenaline rush.

"Alright, so you think you broke your ankle? And just how do you propose that happened?" He had a bit of a condescending tone, like I was incapable of knowing whether or not my ankle was broken. I wasn't a complete dumbass. Maybe he was just really tired...

"Actually, I think I sprained it. It might be broken, but it's unlikely. I've sprained my ankle before, I know what it feels like. This is just worse." I told him.

"Uh huh. And how did you do this?" he asked, looking at me incredulously.

"I, uh, tripped while I was walking down some stairs..." I was a little embarrassed at that. Not many people would volunteer the fact that they couldn't walk down a flight of stairs safely.

"Really? You know, young lady, faking a broken ankle is no laughing matter." He gave me another condescending look.

I opened my mouth to protest, but Billie beat me to it.

"Are you fucking kidding me? Why the hell would she fake an injury like that?! She can't fucking walk, let alone stand! Who the fuck was dumb enough to give you a medical degree?!" Holy shit was he pissed. I blamed it on the lack of sleep.

"You watch your mouth! You have no right to speak to me like that! So why don't you and your little lying whore get the hell out of my office! Take your fake injuries to someone who actually gives a damn!" he yelled. What the fuck? Was it legal for him to even talk to us like this? We didn't even do anything! I suspected that maybe he was a little bit drunk.

"She's not a whore! And we'll be taking our business elsewhere, you can be sure that I will be filing a complaint, if not a fucking lawsuit!" Billie yelled. He picked me up and stormed out the door and past the receptionist, into the waiting room.

"What the hell, you guys were back there for like ten minutes!" Tre said. Mike just gave us a strange look. He was good at that.

"Yeah, the doctor was a fucking drunk dick. He said she was faking it and fucking called her a whore! The guy is a dumbass! Let's go somewhere else." Billie was so pissed, he forgot to hand me over to Mike.

We practically ran out of the clinic and to the car. Tre opened the passenger door and Billie set me down. I put my seat belt on as everyone else got into the car.

"So...now what?" I asked.

"Now, now we go find a hospital that doesn't hire drunk idiots." muttered Billie, pulling out onto University Drive.

***

We drove around for a bit, looking for any place that looked like a hospital until Tre got bored just sitting in the car and told Billie to pull into the gas station up ahead. Tre got out of the car and told us to stay there. He walked into said gas station and we saw him talking to the guy at the counter. Five minutes later, Tre came back with a piece of paper in hand.

Tre opened the driver's side door and told Billie to get out. Billie gave him a "what the fuck?" look, but got out nonetheless. Tre sat down and put his seat belt on.

"Alright kiddies, hold on to your hats, you're in for a wild ride with the one and only Tre Cool!" he stepped on the gas and I suddenly feared for my life.

Well, not really. Tre was actually a really good driver, he just liked to act stupid.

Minutes later we found ourselves at a different hospital. Damn, how did Tre do that? He didn't even know his way around Fargo! That guy at the gas station must have given some damned good directions.

"We're heeeeere!" Tre announced.

"No shit, Sherlock." Mike said. We all got out of the car and Mike scooped me up into his arms yet again.

***

We had a much more pleasant experience this time around. Once again, Billie and I walked back to the doctor's office.

He greeted us in a much more pleasant manner and introduced himself as Dr. Becker.

Dr. Becker asked me what I thought was wrong and didn't treat me like an idiot, unlike the other doctor who hadn't even bothered to give us his name. I told him the same thing I'd told the other doctor, and he asked how it happened. Billie explained for me this time. I was too embarrassed to say it again.

Dr. Becker laughed a little. I didn't expect him not to. It actually was kinda funny. I had tripped down the stairs countless times before, but only once had I broken something. It was my eighth grade year. My best friend and I had been on our way to science class in the computer lab. We were going to be late, so we were running down the stairs. I tripped at about the third step and apparently I hit my head against the wall and passed out for a minute. I ended up with a concussion, a broken nose, and a broken elbow. I couldn't use my right hand for weeks!

He then took a look at my ankle and moved it around a bit, poking it here and there. It hurt, and I had to bite my lip to stop myself from hissing from the pain. Billie seemed to notice this and grabbed my hand. My stomach fluttered. I wasn't sure if it was because a guy was holding my hand or if it was because someone cared about my well being enough to notice my discomfort.

"Alright, it looks like your ankle is only sprained. That's really good news. It'll heal faster than a break and you won't need a cast. I'll write you a prescription for some extra strength pain-killers and send you downstairs to get some crutches." Dr. Becker said.

"Actually, can we just skip the crutches part? Last time I sprained my ankle, I was more of a danger to myself with them than without them. By tomorrow afternoon I should be okay to walk on it." I said. It was true. He laughed again.

"Sorry, hospital policy says that I can't let you leave without them. That doesn't mean you have to use them, though." He winked at me, handing Billie the prescription paper.

Dr. Becker looked over to me again and said, "Have a good rest of the night...or morning. Whatever you want to call it. I'm sure your boyfriend here will take good care of you." He walked out the door before either of us could protest his assumption.

"Alright, let's head down to the pharmacy, get this shit, and get the fuck out of here." We walked out of the office the same way we had come in. We met Mike and Tre in the waiting room and the four of us headed to the pharmacy.

Fifteen minutes later we were back in the car and heading to their hotel, with me on crutches (damn those things to the deepest pits of hell!) and Billie carrying my pain-killers.

***

The hotel they had booked was very classy, almost better than the one I had been to in Hawaii, but nothing could top that. The floors here were all marble and everything was very extravagant.

Billie walked up to the counter as soon as we walked inside.

"Hi there, do you have any more available rooms? We have three booked here already, but we need an extra for a friend we didn't expect to meet up with." He smiled at her.

The woman working there typed a few things in her computer and said, "I'm sorry, we don't actually. We're booked solid because of some sort of major Target conference going on this week. Again, I'm sorry." She didn't look sorry, she looked more like she wanted to share a hotel room with Billie. Bitch.

Billie dropped the smile and sighed in annoyance. "Alright, thanks anyway." He walked back over to us.

"No rooms?" Mike guessed.

"Nope," he turned to me, "I guess you'll have to share with one of us. All of our rooms only have one bed since we really don't need two, but mine has a couch in it. You could take the bed and I'll crash on the couch." Billie suggested.

Tre glanced up and said, "She could share with me....it gets awfully cold in those rooms...she might need a space heater." I rolled my eyes.

"Yeah, right. Like I'm going to let that happen. Are you okay just sleeping in my room? I promise, I don't bite." Billie said, smiling that gorgeous smile of his.

"Yeah, that's fine with me. If it weren't for you, I might still be sitting in that stairwell."

"True. Alright, well let's head upstairs, I'm sure all of us are exhausted." We all agreed silently.

We took the elevator up to the seventh floor and walked down a very lavish hallway to our rooms. Mike's was room 714, Tre's was 715, and mine and Billie's was 716. We each entered our respective rooms and said goodnight to one another.

Billie's hotel room was amazing! The bed looked extremely comfortable, there was a large flatscreen tv hanging on the opposite wall, and there were two other rooms connected to this one. I assumed one was the in-suite kitchen and the other was a bathroom.

Billie walked over to his suitcase and pulled out some clothes. He handed them to me and told me that I would be more comfortable in them. I couldn't deny that, sleeping in what I had on would not be a pleasant experience. I currently had on some very tight, dark wash skinny jeans, black and white checkered Vans, a red Green Day shirt I bought before the concert, and a white studded belt. Definitely not sleep attire.

I said thanks and walked into the bathroom to change. He had given me a pair of his boxers and a tshirt that would probably fit just right. The boxers were a dark navy blue and were quite silky, while the tshirt was white and said "The Ramones" across the chest in black letters. It looked pretty worn, I guessed that he liked this shirt enough to wear it a lot. The boxers went down to about mid-thigh and the tshirt fit pretty good. It wasn't too tight, but I wasn't swimming in it, either.

I walked out of the bathroom and Billie looked straight at me, just staring for a minute. I hoped I didn't look too stupid...

"Alright, well obviously the bed is right there. The couch is in the kitchen area, so that's where I'll be-" I cut him off, protesting that he should sleep in the bed and I'll take the couch. We argued about that for a little while, until I decided something.

"Well, what if neither of us take the couch? I mean, there's no reason we can't both sleep in the same bed. It's not like we're going to do anything, it's for the sake of comfort." He gave me a strange expression, then nodded at me.

"Yeah, you're right. Nothing is going to happen, of course. Ha, Tre would freak if he knew about this." I laughed.

"You're right, he would." We both climbed in the bed and turned off the lights, saying goodnight to each other.

I don't think I slept much that night.

***End Chapter 6 - Emenius Sleepus***