The Remainder of the Equinox

Chapter Two

The only recollection Zenyatta had from the night before was something forcing food and water down his throat and someone speaking in a rushed voice. He drifted in and out of consciousness, only glimpsing at things he didn't know was real or not. He tried to speak, but his throat was scratchy and he couldn't even think straight. Everything felt like a stunningly vivid blur. Was it his imagination? Or reality? He wasn't able to focus on one thing for more than a few seconds.

He felt himself being moved from a hard surface to a softer one, and being coddled in warm fabric. From that point on, he was pulled into a deep sleep.

The one thing that woke Zenyatta up was a soft poking at his nose.

He ignored it at first. His bed felt abnormally soft, and his blankets were more inviting and warmer than he remembered. It was as if he didn't need to wake up ever again. He hadn't slept that well in a long time.

Again, something poked at his nose. It wasn't a hard poke. It was more like a tentative poke, like a curious child finding something new. It continued until it bothered him enough to peel open his eyes.

On his chest sat a big, fluffy, white cat with piercing green eyes staring him down. He wasn't too shocked. Cats would usually sneak into the complex, only to be picked up by animal control or their original owners.

"I don't remember you being here before," he said to the cat. It mewed back after touching his nose once more. Zenyatta looked at the edge of the bed to see two black cats nipping his foot.

How odd.

Maybe they escaped inside through a window he forgot to shut. He shifted upright, shaking off layers and layers of blankets he didn't know he had. They looked so nice, he wasn't even sure they were his.

No, those definitely were not his.

With further inspection, he realized The clothes he was wearing weren't even his. He wasn't even in his apartment. This is almost definitely a dream, he thought to himself, throwing off the endless pile of blankets.

Upon exiting the room, he was baffled by the sheer size of the hallway. It was nearly the size of a lounge. He slowly passed family portraits that hung on the wall. Most of them were of two brothers, the younger one looking more mischievous than the older. The more pictures he passed, the older they got. By the time the long string of photos stopped, they were young adults. Some of the photos showed what he guessed to be their father. He was so engrossed in studying the photos that he didn't hear footsteps approaching from behind him.

A hand gripped his shoulder tightly. He inhaled sharply. From instinct, he grabbed the hand out of reflex.

"Hey, Hey! Calm down! Everything's fine!" The stranger yelled.

Zenyatta whirled around to come face-to-face with a familiar young man.

"I'm sorry I scared you." The guy straightened out his shirt and sighed. "I was gonna check on you, but I see you're awake now. So..."

"Yes. Where am I?" He said as politely as he could.

"You're in my house."

"It's very lovely, and I don't want this to sound rude, but why am I here?"

"Right, uh. Do you have any memory of what happened last night?" The stranger lead him out of the hallway and into an even bigger living room. "How you passed out on the sidewalk?"