Forgotten

Chapter 19: Revived

      Cold. 

      Dry.  

      Bright.

      As soon as Keith opened his eyes, he wished he hadn't. Lance. Where was Lance. The merman tried and failed to blink away the brightness and attempted to flip to his stomach. That was when he felt the numbing pressure and cold of metal handcuffs tying wrists behind him.

      The entire room was filled with the blinding white shine, courtesy of the three large LED lights hanging precariously above him. And Keith could feel his scales become itchier by the second; the now familiar cold cement didn't help his predicament. Where was Lance? 

      Keith blinked rapidly, still struggling to get rid of the white accompanied with swimming black spots that conquered his sight. Finally, finally his vision started to clear up and he was able to see (with his limited field of vision) a black metal door with bolts scattered all around it. The detail that sent chills down the merman's spine were the scratches running in all directions. Each scrape had its own shape, depth. . . it was almost as if Lotor had kept all his victims here. . . oh Poseidon--

      A muffled groan behind sounded, startling him out of his . . . rather disturbing thoughts. He whipped his head around fast enough to painfully crack it a few times, and saw Pidge shifting from her spot on the floor. 

Wait. . .

Pidge?!

-------------------------

      Shit. 

      What the hell. 

      Pidge never thought that being knocked out would've been so painful. She felt as if she were experiencing her worst hangover yet. And she's had plenty. That wasn't all either; she had a crick in her neck and her back was sore from the way she'd been sprawled against the concrete floor and her wrists had already rubbed raw from the handcuffs. Where did her glasses go? 

      Each assessment and observation was absorbed without her moving or making a sound; that is until she opened her eyes and felt her retina's burning. Jesus. How did she not notice the strong light from behind her eyes? She just had to learn the hard way didn't she. Honestly, Pidge was content to just sit by herself against the wall, and just rest for a bit before she started her rescue mission, but then a low whining noise, just barely audible, reached her ears.

      It continued without relent and even with her efforts to ignore it; it annoyed her to no end. That is until she groaned. Then it just. . . stopped. Finally. 

      She shifted her body, eyes still firmly shut, and tried to get into a more comfortable position. It was dead silent. Perfect. That is until a voice, raspy from no use practically screeched, "Pidge?!" 

      That was when her eyes flew open, not even registering the burning, and gazed upon a certain black haired, crimson scaled merman.

-------------------------

      The sounds of garbled voices rose Shiro from his unconscious state. At first he thought he was back home at his apartment, but then he let the manacles on his wrists, cold shaping through his pants, and the distinct throb of a headache.

A brick to the face.

      That's what it felt like to recall everything over the past three days. Or was it four? The recent days had bled together, becoming so indistinct that they all just became one horrendous and never-ending event. 

      Squinting his eyes, Shiro sat up and took in his surroundings. First thing he noticed (right after the handcuffs) were the two pairs of eyes blinking owlishly at him. Pidge and Keith.