White Room

I awake in a white room. Everything is white, blinding white. There are no pictures or windows. It's just a cold, sterile, white room. I attempt to sit up, but my muscles are too sore. The pain is excruciating. "Careful, you went through quite an ordeal." Peter warns. "No shit." I reply. "Hey." He snaps. "Sorry, I forgot where I was." "So, you know where you are?" He asks, slyly. I can't see him at the moment. The only thing presently in my field of vision is the ceiling fan. "No, I meant I forgot what company I was around." I respond. Peter rests at the foot of my bed. I can only see him out of the corner of my eye, but at least I know I'm not having auditory hallucinations. "Where am I anyway?" I ask. "It's a white room I created a while back. Never got to use it. Never thought I'd have to." "Is this an infirmary?" "In a sense yes. It had perfect lighting , so I can see everything, always." "Perfect lighting for when you're working on a patient?" Peter changes the subject. "Todd is not happy with you." "What else is new?" "But even more so now." I try and sit up again. The pain is still too much. "What are you doing." Peter shouts. "He's mad at me. So, I figured I'd talk to him." "Normally I would agree with you, but you are in no condition to go anywhere." "This needs to be taken care of." I insist. "It does. However, right now your main concern should be getting better. I don't want you going anywhere." I reluctantly lay down. "Can you at least do something for me?" I ask. "Depends what it is." "Can you get Olivia for me?" Peter smiles. "That I can do."