Simply Happy

by V-Pony

Not Gonna Join That Club

The surgery on V’s wounds went fairly well, and he was out of sedation after only half a day. He was in fact only struck twice by the bullets, one entering just inside his left armpit and exiting cleanly through his back, just missing his shoulder blade. The only real surgery he had to have was to remove the bullet that had impacted his left collarbone and lodged underneath it. Luckily the bullet hadn’t struck it solidly enough to shatter it, but the fracture it left behind would take several months to fully heal even with physical therapy

Laying there three days after the surgery, eating that otherwise horrid hospital food that somehow always tastes like top shelf cooking when one has an IV in their arm, he was met by one of the small town’s police investigators who introduced himself as Greg Faust (V chuckled inwardly at the irony of his last name, given the situation). By the time the investigator paid him his visit, his department had already apprehended the young man that had been squatting in the old house for some time.

“We just needed a suitable reason to warrant the manpower to go after him,” Faust explained with a rather sheepish scratch of the back of his head.

“And it took someone being shot to necessitate that sort of action,” V said rather bitterly.
“I should feel so lucky to have that honor-ow!” he winced as he rolled over to avoid looking directly at the officer in case his face betrayed even a minor amount of disgust. He studied the stucco patterns on the recovery room wall as he calmed himself.

“Please don’t misunderstand us, sir,” the officer said after a moment of awkward silence.
“The department budget is tight nowadays and…I know it may seem like a really crappy excuse but”-

“That’s because it is,” V cut him off with a sigh.
“I know what it’s like to work under a tight budget, officer…but sometimes you’ve gotta get your priorities in order to make better use of that budget," V paused and sighed before continuing.
"Is there a court date set? Does he even have an attorney?”

“No and yes. No court date set, but he does have an attorney already assigned to him by the state; he's got no support to afford one himself," Faust explained with a frown.

“Officer, how old is he,” V asked with a tinge of concern in his voice. He didn’t wanna ruin this kid’s life on his first day back in town, despite what had just happened to himself.

“He just turned 17 a few months ago.”

“So he’s not even an adult yet?” V inquired of the wall.

“No, but in this state, armed assailants are treated as such by age 16,” Faust replied, a bit of disappointment in his voice as well; whether at the harshness of the law or just the overall situation, V couldn’t ascertain.

“Tell you what, Mr. Faust,” V rolled back over and nodded towards his own wounds with some effort.
“I’m in no real condition to go to court right now, nor do I have any intention of ruining this young man’s future by sending him to prison so early. So…” he leaned up and hitched in a breath before forcing a half-smile.
“Please tell his attorney that I intend to press no charges against him. I was young and dumb once too, though not to this extent.”

“But he was also in the process of the creation of a controlled substance, and the state can’t overlook that,” Faust objected slightly to which V nodded.

“True, true. Just…tell them if they absolutely have to press charges in that regard that I request they not throw the book at him. Beyond that, I don’t think I have any further bearing on this decision.”
V leaned up and pressed the CALL button above his bed.
“Nurse! How long till I can leave here?”

“But sir, you’re still recovering from surgery.”

“Begging your pardon ma’am; not that I don’t enjoy the intimacy of these little paper gowns and the isolation of this room, but I feel like stretching my legs and getting back to the reason why I traveled over 500 miles down here in the first place.”

“I see sir…I’ll notify the staff and get your release papers ready.”

“Thank you ma’am,” V released the call button and fell back to the bed with a slight groan before sitting back up and slinging his feet over the edge of the bed and onto the cold floor to the surprise of Officer Faust.

“But…you said you were in no condition to go to court!”

“That’s right; I’m not really feeling up to sitting indoors for a few more days, officer,” V stated as he made his way to the bathroom, dragging the rolling IV cart along with him.

“But don’t you want to at least meet the man who attacked you”- Faust started again before V turned and cut him off with a rather severe look.

“No, I think once is plenty, Mr. Faust.”

“Not even his name?” the officer pressed, even more weakly this time. This just seemed so far out of protocol for him.

“…would it really make any difference if I knew one more thing about him to add to my future nightmares, officer Faust?”

“What if he does it again when he gets out?” Faust offered, to which V sighed.

“Hopefully he accepts this second chance as the gift that it is, learns from it, and never does anything of the sort again. But if he does…well, I suppose you can always say ‘I told you so,’ right?”
When officer Faust replied with a look that was halfway between a nod and a shake of his head, V gave him a terse smile and turned back to the bathroom.
“So that settles it. Thanks for your help and attention to detail, officer; but unless you want to hear me whizzing out all the IV fluids these folks have pumped me full of, I suggest you take my decision to the young man’s attorney.”

By the time V flushed the toilet, officer Faust was halfway to the hospital lobby in the elevator. He’d never relished the opportunity to say “I told you so” in situations like this and with a bit of luck he wouldn’t get a chance to.

V pulled on his boxer shorts and grimaced as he tossed the paper gown in the trash when he saw himself in the mirror. The dual bullet wounds burned an angry purple on his upper left chest, painfully standing out on his overly white skin; too long sheltered by fluorescent lights and air conditioned rooms. V gritted his teeth as he tried to shrug his shoulders before giving up for the time being; it was WAY too early for that.
“Heh, well, this is certainly going to slow things down a bit,” V said to himself as he thoughtfully ran a finger over the exit wound in his back.
“But at least I’m alive; that’s certainly a positive.”

He then thought back to the teenager that had shot him without warning in his own garage. It wasn’t the surprise of it all or the impact of the bullets or even the excruciating pain that V remembered the most. No, it was the look of fear on the teenaged man’s face; as if he could see all the young man’s hopes and dreams flash through his mind before being flushed down the crapper in a hail of gunfire.
No…no, V wouldn’t be responsible for ruining that man’s future. He’d seen it happen too many times in the city and had thought nothing about it for years. But he liked to think he was a different person than what he had been…he wasn’t about to join that club, even as a victim.

Even in a situation like this, one lesson rang truer and louder than anything else in his gut, or in his heart.
He almost laughed at himself at the source of it, but it was the honest truth: if there was something else MLP:FiM had taught him…it was Love and Tolerance.

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Small note: things will get moving fairly well next chapter, promise ^^

Comments

[myhe01]

Good show! Jolly good show! (Cookie if you get that reference.)