DADDY WAS ROLLED LIKE A STONE

I was most concerned because:

1./ How the fuck was I going to get Patrick
out of the hospital?

2./ If Mickey Straw woke up-he would kill me
no doubt about that. Also he could be quite
vindictive, Patrick would not fair well.

3./ Alan might find out about me being crouped
up in the lift with Mickey and that would not be
pretty at all.

I was sweating, panting and probably looked
as strung out as Kate Moss on a week night.
Shit did my nose really look like Owen Wilson's?
No it looked worse, he was a guy, it was hunky
an aberration on on a perfect face. I was as
far removed from perfect as Michael Jackson
was from reality.
Right Patrick, ooh first I had to get past Queen
of the Damned.
I decided I didn't care I would go through her
if necessary.
I burst into the room like Starsky and Hutch,
(probably Hutch as I hate those baggy cardies).
"Oh your back, well he's still not awake." Said
Catherine and turned away bitterly glaring out
the window.
I snatched her shoulder and turned her to face
me.
"Look Patrick is in the shit now lady, with or
without your help I'm going to have to move
him. Are you in or out?" I forced her to give
me attention (maybe it was the arm behind
the back part that did it) which she did.
"Enough of that young lady! Why should I help
him, he's been helping himself for a very long time
now." Her chin set firmly, she reminded me of
that Persian cat in the Bond films, though less
hairy and not a cat.
"I would love you to help me, but fine, I can
do it on my own, but you will have to keep out
of my way! And shut the fuck up!"
I pushed her away, so frail and light she staggered
against the bed.
Patrick must have felt the vibration because
he mumbled something.
"Honey it's Becka!" I said and grabbed his hand.
"Pat, it's Cat, please wake up." She kissed his
other hand.
I felt very humbled, the old bag did love him
after all.
I also felt sick, Pat and Cat! I wanted to put
my fingers down my throat and bring up a
hairball!
No good though, he did not stir, we both looked
deflated.
"Alright, I'll help." She said grimly.
"Ok! I think I've worked out what to do next."
I grinned and whispered in her ear.
"That sounds risky." Catherine smiled back at me.
"Don't do that." I said.
"What?"
"Nothing!" I shrugged, could hardly say not to smile
could I?
No time for sarcasm.
"Catherine, unhook Patrick from that monitor,
no, not the drip, we can take that with us."
"Where are you going?"
"I need to deal with a bald Copper in a staff lift.
Then we roll Daddy."
"Hmm, he's been rolling everyone else for years."
Muttered Catherine.

Becka M