Fluent Freshman - Part 23
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There were a few reasons that Andrew and Neil could not get past reception to go see FF or get updates on his current condition.
The first reason was that visiting hours were long over by the time they had arrived a little after midnight.
The second reason was that hospitals, in general, don’t just give out information on their patients to any random person that walks in and asks for an update on their condition. They are ESPECIALLY hesitant to give out updates on patients when the people who are asking can’t give you anything other than a first name, general description, and the reason that the patient is in the hospital.
Somehow “Completely average looking guy with the last name Smith who was stabbed in the stomach” is not enough for the receptionist to go off of.
“There are multiple people here that fit that description. I would need at least a first and last name before I could even begin to start seeing if you were someone who we even could give updates to. No, I will not continue to play your fun little game of guess the first name.” She says when Andrew opens his mouth to start listing off names alphabetically again.
So now Andrew and Neil found themselves under the watchful eye of a security guard as they sat in the back corner of the front reception area.
“I can’t believe we still don’t know what Smith’s first name is.” Neil says his face is buried in his hands as he and Andrew sit in the uncomfortable chairs trying to figure out where to go from here.
“I think she knows exactly who we want to see.” Andrew scowls towards the receptionist who, long used to the ire of the public, pays him no mind. Andrew just refused to believe that there were that many brown haired, brown eyed, average height and weight guys who had suffered a stab wound to the stomach that would have been admitted in the last two hours.
“I just hope they actually are looking after him and that no one went and forgot about him in an hallway somewhere.” Neil says hands sliding up into his hair to grip.
“That wouldn’t happen.” Andrew dismisses despite knowing that Wymack had ABSOLUTELY forgotten FF at a stadium once during the period where FF had been low presence to keep his family from bothering him.
The U-turn he had pulled had definitely been illegal when FF called and asked where the bus was when they had been on the road for five minutes. Wymack had felt terrible about it but FF had just seemed relieved that the bus had come back for him.
Wymack.
Andrew pulls out his phone and dials a familiar number. Wymack, reliable as always, picks up on the fourth ring with the sound of cursing as he got the phone up to his ear. “What.” He asks and Andrew can hear the sounds of driving and Kevin’s infamously train-like snoring in the background.
“What’s Smith first name. You know it.” Andrew demands.
“Classified.” Wymack clips back immediately.
“I need to know it so that we can get updates.” Andrew hisses.
“He isn’t interested in people knowing it and you wouldn’t be able to get updates anyways.” Wymack dismisses.
“We want to be able to head back to see him.” Neil tries.
“Visiting hours are long over Josten. You know that I’m not settling that bet that you little fuckers have floating around about this.” Wymack responds back.
Andrew grits his teeth and then forces himself to relax his jaw, “It’s not about the bet.” Andrew shuts his eyes in irritation.
That stupid bet.
The betting culture within the Palmetto State Foxes Exy team that Reynold’s had cultivated held strong even after her graduation with the remaining Foxes. The Bet had started when one of the other freshmen had mentioned that it was funny that FF went around like Cher or Madonna. The realization that none of them knew FF’s first name was one that had them placing bets on a multitude of things. Things like: “Do you wanna bet it’s a super normal boring name?”, “Do you wanna bet that it’s a weird foreign name?”, and “Is FF intentionally not giving it out to people or since he goes by his last name normally he has no idea that anything is amiss?” Had lower pools since you were betting on a spectrum. The bet with the highest pool is: “What is FF’s first name”.
Wymack had categorically refused to answer it and all other attempts to discover FF’s first name had been met with frustration. There was a solemn agreement that no one could just go and outright ask him since that would ruin all of the fun. Andrew had agreed to not ask when the team had collectively filled his freezer with ice cream cake and he was a man of his word.
The general belief (after the revelation of his major and the number of languages FF spoke) was that FF’s name was just not easy to pronounce for English speakers.
Andrew hadn’t participated but he know that the Foxes do have a running list of names they know it’s not. (Greg, Will, Smith (again), Matt, Kevin, Neil, Andrew, Aaron, Nathaniel, Jack, Beyonce (Sheena’s drunken guess), Nicholas, John, Fred, Garfield, Frank, Alfred, Augustus, Adam, etc. (Andrew had been trying to guess with the receptionist for a while))
“You’re coming here aren’t you? We can get updates when you get them.” Neil says.
“He’s in emergency surgery right now and will remain there for the next few hours most likely. There’s not going to be any updates hopefully.” Wymack says with a sigh loud enough that they can hear it over Kevin’s snoring.
“Surgery? He needs surgery?” Neil asks sounding surprised s if FF hadn’t been stabbed to the hilt into his stomach with one of Andrew’s knives. He’s about to give Neil some shit for the question before remembering that if there was any person who would think that a stab wound to the stomach wouldn’t necessitate surgery it would be Neil “I’m Fine” Josten.
“Yes Josten, he needs surgery. They have to stitch up his stomach and the surgeons are also going to be dealing with some of the ulcers that were ruptured by the knife.” Wymack explains likely coming to the same conclusion that Andrew had on Neil’s stupid question. “They were a bit worried about him bleeding out but he stabilized before the surgery.” Wymack sighs.
“I’m going the hospital since I’m Smith’s medical proxy. If anything goes wrong with the surgery I want to be there so I can make an informed decision on his care.” Wymack says and… Andrew figured there’d be surgery but to hear it and the possibility that something could go wrong, that the last thing FF had said to him had been something non-sensical about “Gracie Hart wouldn’t have gotten stabbed. I’m Cheryl at best.”as he’d started succumbing to all the blood loss. “If you could stick around long enough for me to drop Kevin off with you I would appreciate it.” Wymack says.
“What if he needs a blood transfusion?” Andrew says.
“Smith is AB-, it’s the second easiest blood type to transfuse into. Go home Andrew.” Wymack repeats.
Andrew works his jaw irritated that there didn’t seem to be a path to getting his way.
“We’ll stay here until you get here.” Andrew agrees, “But you’ll get an update before we leave.” He adds.
Wymack sighs, “Fair enough.” He says before hanging up.
It’s 45 minutes of waiting and tossing a few more name possibilities at the receptionist who seems more amused than anything at their continued attempts to guess their friend’s first name (Neil goes through the entire list of names that he’s gone by and none of them get the thumbs up).
Wymack comes through the doors with a half awake Kevin Day following his steps. “I have another favor to ask you.” Wymack says instead of any form of greeting.
“I’m not going to leave Kevin in the car overnight again. It was just that one time.” Andrew says with a roll of his eyes and honestly he’d been punished enough listening to Kevin bitch, moan, and sneeze for the following week while talking about all the supplements he was taking.
“Not that,” Wymack pauses, “I have two favors to ask you. First don’t do that. Second, would you be able to pick up Smith’s grandma from the airport tomorrow?” He asks.
Andrew blinks.
“She’s coming here?” He asks.
“I updated her on my way here. She booked a flight and will be arriving around noon tomorrow.” Wymack says and Andrew doesn’t know why he’s confused by this. FF’s grandma got him two still warm pies to cheer him up on Thanksgiving.
He’d stabbed that woman’s grandson.
“I’ll pick her up.” He agrees.
Shorter one today
NEXT
MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU
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The requests to be added to the tag list keep being spread out across a few different areas. If I missed you please just ask again in the replies I promise I just missed you.
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Kevin Keith's 27 day hunger strike and the censorship around it
(most post body text copy-pasted from Death Penalty Action news email)
From prison, Kevin planned to manage a publicity campaign to call attention to his hunger strike and his demand for a just resolution to his case, however... the day he started his hunger strike, he was moved to solitary confinement. A prison executive came to see him...
First she demanded that he hand over all of his documents, his paper, stamps, envelopes and his pen. Then she informed him of a policy change: Prisoners on a hunger strike are not allowed to communicate with the outside world.
Kevin had told his lawyers and some members of the media of his plans, but that was it. I certainly had no details, and Kevin's brother Charles also had no details. Worse, there was no way to contact or even visit Kevin, because he was in the hole (solitary confinement).
Kevin held out for 27 days.
His lawyers came to check on him once a week to make sure he was OK, but that's it. No media responded to his plea. No celebrity supporters tweeted about his plight. We at Death Penalty Action had no information, and could therefore do nothing.
Even as Kevin drank copious amounts of water, he still was dehydrated. Kevin received intravenous hydration ten times, on the following dates:
February 7
February 12
February 14
Twice on February 16
Twice on February 18
Twice on February 22
And we had no idea.
Kevin says he found a spiritual benefit to the experience, but he stopped when the prison doctor warned him that he risked damaging his kidneys. They threatened him with being transferred to the hospital, restrained, and force-fed. At that point, he decided to end his hunger strike.
Kevin Keith is still waiting for Governor DeWine to act on his request for executive clemency. As you may recall, the Sixth Circuit Court of Appeals ruled against him back in November. It is unclear what additional legal avenues he has available to him.
to support kevin keith, you can sign his petition, send him money so that he can buy food to help as he recovers from his hunger strike, and watch his brother charles keith's 6 minute video on his experiences fighting the death penalty.
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"Hey, do you ever wonder what he’s thinking about?"
"Hm? Who?" Gareth finally pays attention, turning to face his thoughtful-looking best friends.
Jeff inclines his head to their lead singer. Eddie's arms are crossed tightly over his chest, face twisted up in a scowl, dressed in all black, hair falling down his face. He looks mean and scary. The people at the hideout all look at him nervously before skittering away.
"He looks like he's plotting a murder" Kevin says bluntly. "You two fighting or something?"
"Not that I'm aware of, no" Gareth shrugged. "I'll go check. He seems stressed"
He approaches his boyfriend calmly, trying to find something at the same place he's staring, but there was nothing out of the ordinary.
"Hey Eds" he places his hand on his shoulder, Eddie tensing a little before he realized who touched him. "You okay?"
The scowl instantly melts off his face and he smiles softly.
"Yeah! Why wouldn't I be?"
"I don't know, you tell me" Gareth watched as Eddie grabbed his hand and started fidgeting with his rings. "Whatcha thinking about?"
"Oh" Eddie chuckled, a little embarrassed. "Just couldn't stop thinking about that song we're covering these last few gigs, because it sounds very familiar, but I could never put my finger on it. So I started playing it in my head when I realized: it sounds the same as Sad But True by Metallica! Like, it just hit me! Do you think they did that on purpose because it's the same thing but a few semitones down and it goes like this–"
Gareth smiles, watching his boyfriend ramble and playing air guitar, showing him how the chords go. To think that Eddie was glaring at the air so hard it was making people nervous, that he was in his own little corner because his expression is so frightening everyone else is too scared to be anywhere near him, the fact that Jeff and Kevin have spent the last 10 minutes contemplating what could have possibly made him so angry and the whole time he’s playing guitar on his head and analising similar riffs? Hilarious. And adorable.
"I love you" Gareth says, his voice full of love and honesty.
"I love you too?" Eddie answers confused, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. Gareth presses a quick kiss on his lips.
"What's all that for?"
"Nothing. You're just so cute, that's all"
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