(WARNING! For torture and homophobic slurs and oh fuck this chapter’s a mess in general)
Marc sat up in the hospital bed, dialing the number for Mister Clay.
It had been hell for him to convince the staff to let him use his cell phone. He stated it was to reach an emergency contact. They didn’t seem to realize that said contact wasn’t able to bring him home.
Hearing the ringing, Marc looked at his fingers before gripping the hospital blanket.