Glitch #ONC

Chapter Three

Sunlight glowed through the thin skin of Luke's eyelids turning them pink. His head felt thick and heavy. He floated between worlds for a while, hearing odd words and feeling hands caress his cheek. Something cold and wet found his forehead and he rejoiced. The chill soothing the throbbing in his temples.

The pillow under his head grew damp from the dripping water. His left shoulder ached from the ancient spring digging into its underside. He cracked an eye open tentatively.

Melody dozed in the chair beside the bed. Wisps of hay ensnared in her windswept curls. She snorted and jolted awake. Grogginess hampered her effort to catch the flannel as it slipped from Luke's forehead.

Luke tried to speak, failed, and pushed his hand towards her instead.

She flinched. Dropped the flannel and scrunched her face in confusion. "You're awake?"

Not trusting his voice, Luke nodded. His mouth felt like sandpaper and now his eyes were open his head had started to throb like mad.

What happened? Did I hit my head?

"How are you feeling?" she took his hand into her own and offered a gentle squeeze.

"Like someone took a baseball bat to my skull. It feels like my brain is trying to push its way out of my eyes and ears." He closed his eyes to lessen the pain.

Mel pulled the curtains closed, it blotted out only half the light. "It was the top step actually."

He reached a hand up to the back of his head. A sudden fear rushed through him. A memory, or a nightmare he wasn't sure. He exhaled as he found little more than tender skin, a sizable knot and flakes of dried blood and glue.

"You called a doctor?" He croaked, wincing at the pain of his probing fingers on the wound.

"I thought you were dead, you lost so much blood. Luckily, it's just a concussion. No permanent damage."

"Luckily." He snorted and grimaced. "It feels like I died, got yanked back to the mortal plane and have left a few pieces behind." His body felt alien as he tried to sit up. He closed his eyes to stop the room from spinning wildly.

Mel placed her hand on his chest. "You need to rest. None of your usual running around. I've taken care of Queenie."

"I noticed." He smiled and pulled a strand of sweet hay from her hair.

"Did you dream of me?"

"When?"

"I guess not then." She huffed and sat back in the chair. With her arms folded across her chest, she looked every bit an overgrown child. A smile played on the corners of her lips.

Luke furrowed his brow in concentration. His hand went to the back of his head subconsciously. He could smell the antiseptic; it made his nose itch. The phantom sensation of all the tubes overwhelmed him. His pulse hummed in his ears loud enough to drown out Mel's fractious words.

All at once everything he had seen and experienced tumbled from his lips. His speech quickening to try and get it all over and done with. He could see Mel growing pale, her eyes glazing over, her hand growing light against his own. But he couldn't stop the words. They were a freight train derailing, nothing could stop the potential energy behind it.

He sucked in a deep breath. His head swam, unconsciousness pushing ever closer. He fought for control. His lip bled as he clamped down, not wanting to drift back to the nightmare that came with blacking out.

"Breathe." Mel found her voice, she swallowed her fear and looked him straight in the eye. "You need to calm down."

He nodded. Every slow lungful of air allowed his head to clear. The images and lingering sensations died away, back to the realm to which they belonged. "It was just a dream. A nightmare. Born of a head full of conspiracy theories, you've warned me about it before, now I believe you." He rubbed his temples as the headache intensified.