One Step At A Time [boyxboy]

Chapter 9

David’s eyes were moving restlessly behind his closed eyelids, as his body slowly came from it’s coma. His eyes slowly fluttered open, although they switched from opened to closed for the next few minutes. Eventually, he’d let his eyes open all the way, the natural light of his bedroom making his pupils small dots centering his irises. His entire body ached; he felt like he hadn’t moved in ages! He stared up at Sid Vicious and Johnny Rotten, his mind going off to it’s own place. This was his usual morning routine. His brain didn’t generally register much until he’d been awake for a good fifteen to twenty minutes, so he just laid in bed and thought about random things, sometimes slipping back into sleep. This time, however, he didn’t need to lay in bed before feeling completely awake. “This is weird,” he muttered, letting his eyes fall closed again. 

He sighed and turned his head to the side, feeling his neck cramping as he did. Why did every muscle in his body ache? Why did he feel cold all the way down to his bones? Why was he so hungry? Or thirsty? But most importantly, why couldn’t he remember the day before? He opened his eyes and stared at his wall, racking his brain for what had happened the day before, or even the day before that. What day was it? Was it Saturday? He closed his eyes and an image flashed in his mind, accompanied by a strangely familiar feeling of cold. Opening his eyes again, he blinked rapidly, trying to sort out what was going on with him. He felt a strange sense of pain; physically and emotionally. But why? 

Closing his eyes tightly, he made his second attempt at delving deeply into his own mind. Okay, think of... Friday night... the party... Dean’s bloody face flashed into his mind, and a sick, guilty, pleasure coursed through his stomach. Dean’s words... David couldn’t help but feel proud of himself for what he’d done. ...the fight... jail... Images of him and Pierre together in jail, embracing each other in such a discreet way it might as well have not counted... but it did. Mom yelled at me... the barn... Pierre listening to his song popped back into his mind, along with Pierre holding him while he cried. Hay jumping... the... the kiss... David swallowed as the memory of Pierre literally running away from him entered his mind again. 

And then that feeling of cold set in again. I fell asleep... and when I woke up... He was remembering waking up; feeling cold; immobile; helpless. And after he’d fallen asleep again, there were no memories. He laid with his eyes closed for another few seconds, hoping that maybe something more would come... but nothing did. Blinking his eyes open, he stared at his white wall, the color perfectly depicting the image in his mind. What had happened? How had he gotten back inside? 

Needless to say, when he turned around to get out of bed, he was a little more than confused by Pierre’s presence in his room. Pierre, however, wasn’t aware that David was awake. His back was arched and his head was hung over the back of the chair, his arms hanging down and touching the floor, and his legs spread out in front of him. It did NOT look comfortable in the slightest. David couldn’t help but picture him leaving the barn as he stared at him, a strange, new, painful feeling in his chest rising the longer he stared at him. Now David REALLY wanted to know what he’d missed.

He stood slowly, making sure not to wake Pierre as he padded quietly across the floor. Although the door creaked loudly when he opened it, Pierre didn’t so much as twitch. David made his way down the stairs slowly, his body parts feeling as if they weren’t working correctly. He felt like he hadn’t had control of them for far too long; they felt stiff, and his reactions felt slower, but maybe that was due to the confused daze he was in. 

As he reached the bottom of the stairs, he noticed Dan sitting on the couch for once. Now he REALLY knew something was up; Dan wasn’t working, and the sun was still up. David opened his mouth to speak, but only a quiet, cracked, whisper of a, “Hi,” escaped his throat. Had he not talked in days, either? Dan, however, still noticed him. He looked up quickly, a deer-in-the-headlights look adorning his features. David cleared his throat and swallowed hard, trying to work up some saliva to moisten his parched throat.