A/N: I was intending on bringing up the Saint Sanny thing later – but I brought it up then instead, OK? OK, then.
I'm Saint Sanny. I thought. It's a good name, because Sanny is technically not my given name. It's a portmanteau of my first and last names, which are Saint and Anthony. Saint + Anthony = Sanny – get it?
OK, I know it's weird that my first name is actually Saint, but go with me here – it was Mom's decision, not mine. Since I was really little, I've been Sanny Anthony – nothing less, nothing more.
My blood eventually clotted enough so that Ben could clear the blood out of the way and see what happened. He inserted a little probe into my ear, and looked over at a small screen on the wall. You could see the inside of my ear – and in the upper half, you could see a ruptured area covered in blood. He frowned, "Yup," He said, sliding the probe out, "You ruptured a vessel. I think it might have been caused by the migraine." He looked up at me, "Whenever this happens, you have to and I friggin' mean have to come down here." His frown was an angry one now, "Migraines can indicate a tumor, or something totally wrong with your brain." He paused, "Is the migraine still bad?"
I nodded. "OK," He said, walking over to the cabinet with the vials, "I'll give you a Cortisone shot and then you need to go back to your bunk and get some serious rest." He drew some fluid out of the vial and walked over, "You have major fatigue, and we don't need you collapsing in the middle of some mission. I mean," He said, plunging the needle into my right thigh, "Where would we be without Saint Sanny?"
Everything was muddled after that.
I vaguely remember Bekkah dragging me back to our room, and then I assume I started chatting incessantly while Bekkah probably began to get really sick of me and my annoyance. Eventually, I probably went to sleep whilst asking Bekkah about my fictional argument with the Phantom of the Opera about whether Sweeney Todd was an Opera or not – I'm convinced it wasn't, while he insists that it is. I think I may just have totally crashed after that. Oh – Bekkah told me somewhere in there that I was apparently convinced that there was a robo-rat chewing my pinky toe off. There wasn't – my toes just fell asleep – so it was just me and my craziness. Fifteen years – and I'm very proud of the fact that I haven't totally snapped somewhere in there.
I woke up at 6 a.m. – and I was wondering where Shakespeare went when I realized that I was still totally out of it. I did some mental math – I'd gotten back to the room at 11 p.m., tossed and turned for half an hour, then Bekkah took me down to Ben, and I was there for an hour . . . then I was just being crazy for about two hours. Totaling it up . . . I got three and a half hours of sleep. Brilliant. 'Will Shade totally vaporize me if I sleep in? Dunno. Will I get yelled at? Yes. Do I care? No. Does he want me to totally fall asleep whilst killing a Myrmidon? . . . Ok that one's a trick question. What're the odds? Um . . . . Yeah, I'm sleeping in.' I put my head down to the pillow. It still had blood on it – mixed with drool, so I flipped it over. I put my head down again on the blood-free and drool-free side of the pillow and dozed for a good hour and a half.
Now, don't get me wrong – usually I'm an early riser, but this is an entirely different situation. Katie, Bekkah, and Dezzy get up at about seven-thirty or eight. It's about . . . it's getting close to seven-thirty. Katie's talking in her sleep – something about her non-existent brother that lived under the stairs when we were in eighth grade. Dezzy's watch alarm went off and everyone groaned. Katie's blonde head bobbed up from her pillow, "Why is it seven thirty? Someone turn back the clocks! I wanna sleep in."
"Yes – what a diabolical plan, Katie – We'll sneak around, turning back all the clocks . . . and then, go back to bad to realize that we're no longer tired. More effort than it's worth, in my opinion." I mumbled, rolling over onto my left side, towards the wall.
"Do not want." Bekkah grumbled.
I smiled, "Want this, not that!" I laughed, we were playing our old junior-high game – if you could call it a game. "Voles make sad! Bekkah kill voles – all her fault!"
"Bekkah not kill voles! Sanny's fault!"
Before we knew it, we were all wide awake and laughing at ourselves and our craziness. I went into a coughing fit and doubled over. All three of them looked at me, their eyes full of concern. This had been happening lately. I think I might have pneumonia – but, wouldn't have Ben picked up on it by now? 'Whatever,' I thought, finishing my business of hacking up a lung. I frowned, straightened up, and hopped out of the top bunk. I walked over to the vid screen by the door. I typed in Jesse's number. It pended for a bit.
His goofy grin appeared on the screen, "Hey, what's up? Anything wrong?"
"No – I just wanna know the weather conditions."
"Cold. Really, really cold."
"Awesome! No Ferrets to worry about – or Myrmidons, or anything else for that matter. Thanks, Jess. Oh," I added, "Is Dan down there?"
"Tell him to bring us some coffee." I said, tapping 'END'.