Guys, Where's Wesley? (Emblem3 Fan-Fic) COMPLETE!

CHAPTER 20: Recovery to a New Beginning

Wesley wheeled himself down the hall. He was covered in bandages. He had three butterfly stitches over his nose, two more on his forehead, and a sixth one on his chin. His entire torso was covered in bandages. He had two sprained ribs and his back needed a new layer of medicine every twelve hours. The bullet went through and lodged itself in his thigh bone which he had needed surgery to get it taken out and his ankle was broken aka his entire leg was casted. Both his wrists had layers of gauze around them and he was on a strict diet from the extreme malnourishment he had been through which probably sucked the most, in his opinion. There was nothing more that he wanted than a huge steak with all the fixings made specifically by his mother, who had cried when she saw him. He still debated whether that hug was the worst pain of his life or the best.

Still, the physical pain didn’t bother him so much. Yeah, it hurt and made him incredibly uncomfortable but it was the mental pain that was the worst. The first night, they forced him to stay awake to ensure his concussion wouldn’t drive him into a coma. It’s not like it mattered though, he hadn’t gotten much sleep since he was rescued three weeks ago. Whenever he closed his eyes now, the memories would come rushing back. His skin would crawl and he could practically smell the first room he was stuck in. He’d start screaming and crying in his sleep and would wake up sweating with his mom shouting for him to wake up. He noticed that when it happened when she wasn’t there, it would take twice as long to wake him up. The nurses were the ones who would have to run in because with all the commotion, he still wouldn’t wake himself up. It was torture.

He hadn’t told them what the dreams were about or what actually went on and nobody asked. He knew though that when the doctors cleared him to go, he would have to explain it to Detective Lorenzo, who had introduced himself and told him what was going to happen. He had started to really dread that conversation.

He turned in to Drew’s room, which was directly next to his own. Drew was still in bad shape but getting better. The bullet had just missed his heart but after immediate intense surgery and some help from the blood bank, he was alive. He was in a week long coma and had slight memory loss. No one was sure just yet if this was blacked out memories or a small case of amnesia.

Drew tried to act like he was okay now. He himself had gauze on his wrists as well and had one broken rib. His ankle was fracture and he had two butterfly stitches on his forehead too and one on his chin. His shoulder was heavily padded. In fact, if he would just sleep, he’d probably be released within the next day or two.

Still, Wesley knew very well that Drew went through worse sleep torture himself. The only time Drew spoke of it was when he made a visit to Wesley’s room about a week and a half ago around two in the morning. Wes was having one of his own episodes. He was screaming Drew’s name. Drew woke him up, tears in his own eyes, before the nurses came in. He sat by Wesley’s bed and they talked.

“I had a dream earlier,” Drew had said, just above a whisper. “I’ve had before, quite a few times. I was in my hospital bed and on the TV was your room like there was a camera in here. I knew something wasn’t right, why was I watching you? Still, I was starting to fall asleep when a dirty hand reached around and covered my mouth. Suddenly, all my limbs were strapped down and a knife was slicing down my front. Through the TV, your voice was screaming. You were screaming for me to help and asking why I wasn’t. I tried to scream to you but my voice wasn’t working. Suddenly, the knife was gone from me and I could feel the stinging where it left. I looked on the screen and you were back in that cell, being held up. I see a version of me go in and he just starts stabbing you in the back. You scream for me to stop, pleading with everything you have left. That’s usually when I wake up.”

Wesley had just nodded. “Yeah, I sometimes dream of Jared, sometimes dream of you or Keaton in his place.” He couldn’t talk about it anymore after that. His dreams were horrific and even speaking about them made them too real. The truth is, he sometimes relived everything that went on in his dreams and is unable to wake himself up. He dreams that he’s watching Keaton go through it all instead too. He dreams of shadows chasing him and he’s unable to get away as well as falling onto a bunch of daggers. There was no limit to where his dreams took him and it killed him.