Night Terrors [Frerard]

For the Good Guys And The Bad Guys

Waking up felt terrible. I felt as though I had woken up in the middle of a tornado; I was nauseous and dizzy. It felt like a hangover, despite the fact I hadn't had any alcohol.

My first instinct was to throw the blankets off of me. My body was radiating with heat, and I felt a sticky residue on my hands that I assumed to be sweat.

"Oh, good," someone above me sighed in relief, "I thought you wouldn't ever wake up."

I tried to open my eyes but regretted it instantly when blinding white lights flooded my vision. I threw a hand out, searching desperately for anything I could find to hide under. The prospect of moving my body was unthinkable. Every muscle in my body suddenly had the atomic mass of the sun and just the sheer thought of even trying to stand up made me want to cry.

I'd never felt so exhausted in my entire fucking life.

"S'tired... g'away..." I slurred out, my tongue feeling heavy and coated in an unusual amount of saliva.

My ears were ringing and my head was pounding. Every movement sent shocks of agony through my pounding head and my stiff muscles. I wondered briefly if that is what Sleeping Beauty felt like when she woke up. The difference being that I wasn't waking up to a prince kissing me, and I wasn't put under a curse or anything equally as cool.

"You're going to miss breakfast," the voice from a minute ago said, coming closer to my ear.

I groaned as the noise filled my ears.

"Mr Way, I've been trying to wake you up for the past 15 minutes. You need to get up."

"No," I mumbled defiantly. I turned around to face away from the intruder.

"C'mon," they sighed, "Don't make me get the staff. You're not going to want nurses dragging you up. They will not be as merciful as me, I assure you."

I shifted against the scratchy sheets, willing myself to wake up. The world around me seemed incoherent, and I felt like a ghost drifting through uncertain terrain.

"Mr Toro?" I asked as the fog of sleep started to disperse, leaving me tangled in confusion. Why was I so damn tired?

"Yes," he sighed in an aggravated tone. He didn't sound pleased. "Can you just get up? I get that you're tired, I am too. I know you probably hate it, but it's hospital regulation, buddy."

"Ew," I groaned, digging the heel of my hands into my eyes, "Don't call me buddy... like, ever."

Against my better judgement, I sat up. I felt an intense spell of vertigo wash over me, and my body felt like passing out.

"Ah, shit," I grumbled under my breath -- which reeked of morning breath, just to top it all off -- and began to heave myself up.

I fell against the wall, using it to keep the balance between my unsteady feet. I rested my forehead against it, relishing in how it sent cold shivers up my spine.

"Oh, hey Gerard!" a voice called.

I could hear someone approaching until they stopped in the centre of the room.

"Good morning, Mr Ross," Mr Toro greeted.

"Morning," Ryan returned, "Is he okay?"

"Yep," the LPN stated assuredly, "Just having troubles waking up, is all."

"Huh," Ryan mused, "Well, I can walk him to breakfast if you'd like?"

"That'd be great," he said thankfully.