Chapter Text
It was raining for the second day in a row, the rainfall keeping a constant steady rhythm as it drummed against the roofs and ground around the dull hospital building. At first Mitchell had found it pleasant, soothing even but after having listened to it through an entire night with little to no sleep he was over it.
He knew he could have, no, should have asked the nurses for something to help him with his insomnia but...he just couldn’t be bothered. He had gotten plenty of sleep when they had kept him in a coma for a week.
His memory after the fall of Atlas was hazy at best and he had spent the hours awake trying to piece together whatever he did remember. He remembered Jonathan Irons falling into the flames, remembered flashes of pain, remembered being helped away from the ledge, remembered bits and pieces of being in several different vehicles. And he remembered that through all of that, someone had been holding on to him, talking him through whatever had been happening around him.
Then everything had gone black.
He had later been told it had been Gideon who had managed to bring him to a local field hospital in New Baghdad, from where he’d been flown to Luxembourg, where he still currently was. Broken, bruised and alone.
He’d lost a few more inches from his left arm, the destruction of his prosthetic having damaged the nerves and muscles beyond repair. Other than that he’d only suffered a few broken bones, some cuts and burns but the flying had weakened his lungs. The doctors had told him it would take at least three to four weeks before he could be transported back to the states, where he might need even more surgery on his arm.
And that was about all the information he’d been given in all his two weeks of being conscious. No one would tell him anything about what was going on in the world, were Atlas soldiers still fighting back? What about other mercenary or terrorist groups? What was Sentinel doing? Had Ilona made it? Was Gideon back in the field?
Mitchell knew, deep down, that in his situation none of that mattered. He was about as unfit for duty as a toddler, and he guessed the doctors probably kept him in the dark out of orders. That knowledge was ultimately the only reason he hadn’t told everyone in the facility to shove their tests and medicines up their asses.
He turned his head away from the window with a sigh, which was immediately followed by a fit of coughing and he cursed under his breath as he reached for the glass of water on the nightstand to take a few tentative sips. Maybe he should ask for something to help him sleep after all. He was tired of thinking and there really was nothing else he could do, at least sleeping would make the time go by faster and he half heartedly wondered what would make them agree to put him back into a coma, it was borderlined torture to keep him awake when there was literally nothing he was allowed to do.
He was just about to reach for the call button when there was a knock on his door and a doctor walked in before he could even respond.
“Good morning private Mitchell, how are we feeling today?” The doctor asked in a routine manner, only giving Mitchell a quick glance before he turned his attention on the clipboard in his hands.
“Oh, we are feeling just peachy, doc...” Mitchell couldn’t help but snort out.
“Private Mitchell, must we really have to have another conversation about your sarcasm?” The doctor spoke nonchalantly as he kept reading over the patient file.
“...no, I’m sorry...” Mitchell muttered. “I’m sorry, I’m just...really getting bored and I was actually wondering if I could...get something to help me sleep...I haven’t really been doing that all that much...” He confessed.
“We can help you with that, certainly. Actually, the tests on your lungs are only showing slight improvements, I had hoped the healing process would have been much further along by now...it really is important for you to get a sufficient amount of sleep.”
“Yeah...yeah I understand. But I can still fly back to the states in two weeks, right?”
“That’s still the plan, yes.” The doctor nodded and put down the clipboard. “Now, I’ll go discuss with the nurses about your sleeping issues in a moment but I actually also came to tell you that you have a visitor.”
At that Mitchell could only stare at the other man dumbly.
“A-a what now?”
“A visitor. If you feel up for it, I can allow you half an hour today, I think you’ve earned some distraction but I don’t want you to strain yourself too much. Do I make myself clear?” The doctor said sternly.
“Um...yeah, yes, of course. Who-” Mitchell was about to ask, too stunned to notice a person leaning against the doorway before they spoke in a rough voice.
“Who the bloody hell do you think, the Easter bunny?” Gideon said sarcastically as he pushed himself off the wall to walk a few steps further into the room.
“Mr. Richard, might I remind you of the talk we had…?” The doctor actually groaned as he turned to glare at the other man.
“Yeah yeah, I remember the rules.” Gideon huffed impatiently and crossed his arms over his chest.
“Right, good. Well then...you have thirty minutes, a nurse will come to escort you out.” The doctor sighed and turned to leave.
“Great, thanks...”
“Thank you, doctor.”
The doctor nodded at them both before closing the door behind him, and Gideon wasted no time grabbing a chair to sit by the bed.
“‘Thank you doctor’?” Gideon repeated mockingly and was about to continue before Mitchell suddenly spoke first.
“What are you doing here?” He asked bluntly, a bewildered look on his face that made Gideon frown.
“What kind of a fucking questio-”
“Don’t. Just...why are you here?” Mitchell started sternly but ended up sighing tiredly, suddenly his body ached all over.
Gideon took a few seconds before he answered, fully taking in Mitchell’s condition as he gave him a once over. Then he sighed as well and leaned back in his chair, quickly running a hand through his short hair.
“Look...I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you...I’m sorry I didn’t contact you. I really am Mitchell. But I couldn’t. They wouldn’t let me come with you on the plane.” Gideon spoke unusually softly. “And I wanted to come after you but they wanted my help in securing the rest of the area around New Baghdad.”
“I figured as much.” Mitchell said simply, but he actually managed to give the older man a small smile. “I take it your mission was successful?”
“More or less. Enough that I could get the fuck out of there.” Gideon muttered and shrugged his shoulders, which only made Mitchell look at him quizzically for a moment before he seemed to remember something.
“Why did my doctor call you Mr. Richard?” He asked suddenly and Gideon could only chuckle at that.
“To tell you the truth? I don’t know what I am right now. I’m an ex-Atlas soldier, for all intents and purposes I should be tried as a war criminal and thrown in jail, or worse .” Mitchell’s eyes widened at that as the other man just shrugged it off like it was nothing.
“What the fuck? But you’re not Atlas anymo-”
“Apparently normally that wouldn’t make a difference but since we did stop the Manticore launch and Irons and since I stayed to help...for now I should be fine, Kingpin pulled some strings. And advised that now would be a good time for me to take some time off.” Gideon tried to finish with a smile but it really looked more like a frown.
“Wow...” Was all Mitchell said at first. “Do you even know how to sit down for longer than five minutes?”
“Oh fuck you.” Gideon snarled but this time he did grin a little. “Anyway, enough about me, my fucking point was that I’m sorry I couldn’t come with you right away.”
Mitchell shook his head at that. “It’s fine, you don’t need to apologize.”
“I know.” The older man said, his grin widening. “But I fucking wanted to, so there.”
They both chuckled at that and fell into a short silence before Gideon spoke again.
“How have you been?” He started, the expression on his face hardening again as he glanced at Mitchell’s heavily bandaged arm. “Since I don’t really even have a rank anymore, your doctor’s couldn’t really tell me anything about what's been going on with you.”
“I’ll live...” Mitchell spoke quietly. “Arm’s pretty busted, probably needs more surgery later but they can’t fly me back home yet because I’m...not fit enough.”
“Okay. Have they said how long you still need to stay here?”
“Two more weeks, at least.”
Gideon nodded at that and absentmindedly rubbed at his chin, sporting a longer than usual stubble Mitchell noted, as if in thought before he looked up at the younger man. “Well, I’ve got nowhere else to be, if your doctors are okay with it I can swing by whenever you need.”
“What? No Gideon you don’t have to do that-”
And just at that moment, there was a knock on the door again and a nurse walked in with a small trolley. “I’m sorry to interrupt but your thirty minutes are up and it’s private Mitchell’s lunch time.” She said cheerily as she wheeled in a rather suspicious meal that made even Gideon turn up his nose at it.
“Alright...Do you think it would be okay if I came by again tomorrow?” Gideon asked the nurse, who just smiled at him politely.
“I’ll have to check with the doctors but I think it should be fine, you can check back tomorrow by the front desk.”
Gideon nodded at that and got up, moving the chair back to where he took it from as the nurse went on to set the food tray in front of Mitchell, along with a small cup with several pills.
“It...it was good to see you Mitchell. Try to get some rest, okay?” The last part just slipped out as Gideon watched the other man suddenly yawn.
“...yeah, it was good to see you too.” Mitchell smiled and nodded back at him tiredly. “Try not to blow up the city now that you have all that free time.” He added cheekily and laughed out loud when Gideon just flipped him off.
“See you tomorrow, asshole.”