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Just a couple more days. That was what the nurse that administered his most recent dosage of pain killers told him. Between their care and Trynt's work healing him, he was nearly able to leave and finish his recovery in the comfort of his own room, though they reminded him that his new half blind handicap would take him far longer to deal with and adjust to, with plenty of exercises and training quite necessary.

But he didn't want to focus on that right now. It was depressing, and he had enough to be upset about without focusing on the long term side effects that his big, sassy mouth had gifted him.

Lying propped up in bed as usual, his mind beginning to swim pleasantly from the administered meds, Finn was humming a tune, one that had been stuck in his head after Jack's visit, the other man being kind enough to bring his guitar and take requests. Occasionally, the humming would turn to into actual words.

"Wooohohoh-oh, I got a love that keeps me waiting~ I'm a lonely boy, I'm a lonely boooooy." It was out of tune, and punctuated by laughter as he closed his eye and tilted his head back against the pillow, letting out a long sigh.

Good stuff.

Luckily for Fini, Finn had asked to have his bed moved earlier that day, to a more silent part of the infirmary, off in a lonely corner where he could have a little bit of peace. Lately they'd been sticking him next to all kinds of yappy infirmary-mates (coughMaebecough), but as things began to clear out a bit and quiet down, he was able to just have his own space and relax.

And since the nurse had only just been by, the last thing he was expecting was for a visitor. And since Fini hadn't bothered answering any of his texts in the last week and a half, or made any effort to see him, and considering their last encounter, the absolute mile behind last thing he expected was for her to show up.

His eye was still closed, his hand patting out a beat against his upper thigh as he continued to hum, now more loudly then before, still adding in a few words now and again.

And then he cut off abruptly at the sound of a voice.

His eye peeked open, and at the sight before him he just stared, wondering if he had actually fallen asleep when he had closed his eye, because well, it was Fini, and he was pretty sure the only place he was going to see her anymore was in his dreams.

"What's this?" He gave her a fairly goofy looking grin, his eye looking more then a little glazed over. "Santa send me an early present?"

In his drug addled mind, Fini looked more like an angel then anything, her silver hair like a glowing halo, and his own jacket far too long on her, the bottom of it brushing against the floor, it's appearance much like a robe. She was like a vision from heaven, and clearly nothing more then a dream or a hallucination.

But hey, he wasn't about to complain. A million times better then a nightmare about killing her, anyways.

His eye followed her movements closely, though whenever he blinked, it was long and slow. The smile that curled up his lips was perpetual, and when she spoke, he gave no reply, just low sound of approval in the back of his throat.

And then, "That's ok, I'm sure that fat a*****e wouldn't bring me anything nice anyways. Morphine Clause, though, welllllll...." He let a silence stretch out after that, then began to laugh as though some silent punch line had been delivered.

"Lonely boy." Was his next response, followed by, "Bowling boy. Bowling ball. Ohhhh oh oh-oh I got a ball that keeps on rollin~"

More laughter. Clearly something was hilarious.

Of course he noticed Fini's movements towards him, and though his head was swimming, he could still manage to focus his eye on her hands as they undid each belt slowly.

"Heh. Guess Morphine Clause thought I was good enough. ******** rights I deserve a strippergram!"

Oh she was talking. Apologize? He snorted at that, but kept smiling because hell, why not? It was just a dream anyways.

And then she took the jacket off.

"Well hellooooo nuuuurse. Ho ho ho how you doin?" He then reached out two grabby hands towards her in the universal children's sign language of want that thing gimme that thing now.

"Well maybe morphine. Maybe a bit of something else. Could call it Cocktail Clause I suppose, and it has a nice ring to it, too!" His smile brightened somewhat, as he repeated, "Cocktail Clause, Cocktail Clause, Cocktease Clocks, Cockatiel Cocks..." Wait a second....

Well, enough of that, anyways, because not only was his present now right next to him, it was moving up onto his bed. He wasn't really expecting a hallucination to feel quite so real, however, and there was definite weight to what he had previously thought nothing more then a dream that climbed aboard him.

"....Fini?" He questioned, for a moment a confused frown creasing the visible part of his forehead. But it couldn't be her. She was pissed off with him, and had more then likely broken up with him as well, though the words had never been spoken out loud for him to hear. Her hand against his forehead felt so real though...

Through the meds, he was able to tell himself it didn't matter. Real or not, she was here. Real or not, enjoy it.

"That sounds painful." He said, though with a cheerful lilt to his tone, before hissing lightly between his teeth when she leaned forward, her weight shifting just slightly, though gently enough that it didn't really hurt anything. A shiver raced up his spine at the whispered words, however, and he turned his face just slightly to brush lips against her cheek before she pulled away.


"Mmmmm, well you see darling, my everything hurts but." He reached out for her hand and moved it to place on his chest, the left side, all bandaged up, directly over his heart, which thrummed steadily in his chest. "This. This has hurt quite a lot, recently."

He would likely never be so forward in expressing any kind of feeling towards how her treatment of him since he had been in the hospital had affected him. He wasn't the mushy type, didn't emote well, and didn't want anybody to know that anything could hurt him at all. He kept everything so firmly under guard, but all that was exposed right now, his cares and give a shits all buried beneath a drug haze.

You heard him, Fini. Finn was making complete and total sense, in his head, and cocktail clause with his cockteasing ways was exactly what he had meant to say. At least he thought it was what he had meant to say. The fact that Fini was laughing at him could have been a really good sign, or a bad one, depending on how he felt like looking at it.

Turns out, he didn't really feel like looking at it, because instead he was enjoying looking at his impromptu dream present, the one that was straddling him on his bed in an oh so delightful little nurses outfit. "Painfully delightful, darling. Delightfully deliciously delectable. I do enjoy a bit of pain, you know that. Or maybe you don't. I can't remember." He sighed, because thinking was too hard right now.

So the silence after he told her about his heart hurting was almost welcome, in a way. He wasn't quite aware that what he said held any real baring on the dream Fini. When she moved his hand and hers, to bend forward to kiss his chest, it was surprising, and gave him a strange feeling that stirred deep inside, along with a warm tingle that spread across his skin at that soft lipped touch. When she turned her head to place it against his chest, he stopped breathing, concern cutting through the fog in his head. Was she okay....? Maybe he really just shouldn't have said anything.

The fog returned, and he might have even dozed a bit in the length of time that seemed to stretch on into eternity before Fini moved, causing him to jerk back to attention, his eyes only half lidded however when she cupped his face with her hands, leaning in...

He arched himself up as much as he could to meet her, a hand rising to the back of her head, to thread fingers through her hair. She wanted a slow kiss, and he wanted a deep one, that while still tender and full of meaning that she was trying to convey, showed just how desperately he had been waiting to just be able to kiss her again. Even if this wasn't really her. He'd take what he could get.

When she pulled away, it was to a small sound of protest from the man below her, who wanted more, so much more, before she disappeared and he was left alone again.

But she didn't disappear, and for that, and so much more, he was grateful, because wow damn. DAMN. These morphine induced hallucination dream things were killer awesome right at that moment. Finn appreciated every last second of it, maybe a little too much, in certain ways, and he was not at all able to keep his hands to himself through any of it.

"Darling you are really something, you know that?" He murmured, even as the drugs really began to tug him under, demanding he let go, that he give in and just let this all go. But he smiled anyways, his eyes glazed, his words mumbled. "Please stay. Don't wanna be...." His eyes closed, as he completely passed out.

The sleep was, as usual, quite dreamless to start with. It wasn't until he got close to waking that images began to filter in, a total cacophony of horribleness. There were giant insects with spine like legs and mandibles that could easily tear a man in half, there was a white room, there was a voice, counting backwards from ten, while cold water seeped up his legs, there was a gun, pointed at his face, aimed right at his eye, there was a vial of black liquid, there was the distinct feeling of falling through the air, of knowing that when he hit the ground he would be dead.

There were screams. Fini's screams, ringing in his ears as he watching himself pour the vial into her mouth, as she struggled and he soothed her, as her body went limp and he held her close, fingers threading through her hair as he continued to tell her everything was fine. It was all going to be okay, now.

The only signs that he was having these nightmares to start with were the way his eyelids began to twitch as his eyes rolled back and forth beneath them. Then, his muscles began to tense, his hands clutching, one into the sheets of the bed, the other squeezing against the hand that Fini had slipped into his own, tight, and tighter still. His jaw was clenched tight, and indiscernible words were murmured as his head turned first one way, then another, as though he were trying to look away from something in his sleep.

And then, with a more then audible gasp, his eye flew open. Sweat had broken out along his brow and he could also feel it down his back, a cold dampness that made his hospital gown cling to his skin. At first, as always, all he could see was the white of the ceiling, and he still felt as though he was in the white room. He could still hear the screams, a memory that was planted in his head, though it quickly began to fade as it always did, as his drug addled mind became starkly clear, as the pain of his wounds made themselves known, as he recalled just where he was and why he was there, and as it registered to him that there was somebody sitting next to him, and that said somebodies hand was being held within his own.

A single, brown eye turned towards whoever was there, though he knew who it was without looking. At last. It was her. He had seen her before this but it had not been under the best of circumstances, and he still had no idea where they stood with each other.

And then, as he looked up at her face, his own falling int a carefully neutral mask, another memory filtered it's way in. But no, that..that had been a dream, had it not? A dream of a woman come to visit him, scantily clad in a nurses costume. It was hazy to remember, at best, and his eyes narrowed just slightly as he took in how she looked, noting that she was wearing his jacket.

His gaze drifted towards the nurses hat sitting on the table next to his bed.

"Well I'll be damned." He croaked out. "Christmas came early and I barely remember a thing." He reached up with a free hand to rub against his face, finger tips massaging into his forehead as if that might help him to recall more of the details, his eye closing once more.

"So I guess this means you don't want to break up?" He asked, eye still closed, fingers still pressed to forehead. "Because I got to be honest here, Darling, if you pull that ignoring me for two weeks straight bull s**t on me ever again, I'm going to need a lot more then a lap dance to make up for it."

His eye then peeked open again, and a small smile curled his lips upward. "Actually, I wouldn't mind some more right now, if you catch my meaning."

It was pretty much impossible to tell if he was joking or completely dead serious.