Rewriting Time

Chapter 2

Sebastian did not die. But he might as well have. Every bone, every fiber, in his body was hurting like hell. His skin was tingling as if every hair had been plucked out and put back in. He wiggled his toes to make sure that they were still working. Pain washed over him. Sebastian bit back a scream and focused on taking deep breaths. One. Two. Three. By the time he reached ten, the pain had subsided.

Squinting against the glare of an overhead lamp, Sebastian scanned his surroundings. All he could see were metallic, gray walls. There was nothing that even gave him a clue to his whereabouts. Looking down, he found that he was bound to a hospital bed and attached to a couple of strange monitoring devices. The bindings were so tight, he could not even lift his arm. There was no one around, yet he had this feeling that he was being observed like a lab rat.

"Where the effing hell am I?" he screamed at no one.

"Language, Chase," a familiar voice drawled.

"Toledano? What kind of freak show is this? Let me out of these straps!" Sebastian said, struggling in vain against the leather bindings.

"It's for your own good, son. You need to get acclimated to the shift."

That wasn't Toledano.

"Get me out of here, whoever you are! This is kidnapping and unlawful detention!"

"Just a few more minutes, son. Please be patient."

"Patient? You want me to be patient? Let's switch places and I'll tell you to be patient!"

"Son-"

"Stop calling me son! I am not your son!"

"Whose son are you then, Chase? Do you remember your parents?"

Toledano was taunting him. How did Toledano know about that handicap? He'd lost most of his memories after the accident.  Only the ID found in his pocket told him his name. He did remember bits and pieces - playing baseball, writing for an obscure publication, and traveling, always traveling, which was even vaguer, making him suspect if they truly were memories or just dream fragments. He had no history, no future - until he met Lizzie.

"Where's the other guy. I want to talk to him," he said, twisting his head around, looking for anything that could clue him in on where he was.

"I'm here, s-uhm, Sebastian," the not-Toledano voice said.

Now that Sebastian was calmer, he was able to concentrate on the voice itself. It sounded a bit familiar now...like he'd heard that educated, but heavily-accented English before. Then, it clicked. It's the man in the subway!

No, that's not him. People don't rise from the dead! 

But he sounded-

Stop it! You don't give a crap if it's him or not. What you care about is getting out of here -NOW!

"How long do I have to stay here?" he asked.

"You need to stay immobile for at least sixty minutes. It's to help your body adjust to the sudden change."

"Change? What change?"

There was a long stretch of silence before the disembodied voice replied. Sebastian had actually thought the man had left.

"Everything will be explained to you later. In the meantime, try to relax your body and your mind to help speed up your recovery."

"Meaning, you have to stop squirming like a fish out of water," Toledano broke in.

Sebastian snorted but refrained from engaging the jerk in another verbal exchange. Closing his eyes, Sebastian counted backward from one hundred. It was a relaxation technique that his therapist had taught him during one of their sessions. Soon enough, Sebastian's brain was easing down to a less frenetic pace. His muscles followed, the tightness in his biceps flowing down and out of his fingertips. He wanted to delve into the intricacies of his situation but thought that it would be counterintuitive. He needed a fresh and rested mind when he was let out of his restraints. His brain had always been his first and best line of defense. He must have it at its peak capacity for the next couple of hours.