Mindscape // DreamNotFound

Chapter 15

     It was bright, too bright. There were noises, confusing noises. Uncomfortable, it was so uncomfortable. Cold, he was cold. There were voices, voices he knew. He could move, he could feel the mattress beneath him. Wake up, he told himself.

     It was slow, he couldn't manage much faster. His eyes had to adjust, blinking away sleep. There were figures, blurry and uncertain, hovering nearby. George groaned, and the figures turned to him. As they got closer, he recognized them as nurses.

     " Oh, look who's awake," one of them cheered. George winced at her loud voice. It was overwhelming, everything stimulated his senses at once. " Don't try to sit up, you're going to be stiff for a few hours."

     He nodded and pain shot up his spine. The nurses buzzed around for a bit, pressing buttons on the machines around him. He took a deep breath, flexing his fingers. He was stiff, and incredibly uncomfortable. Slowly, he raised his arm, testing how it felt. It wasn't bad, but he would likely need to stretch thoroughly before trusting them.

     He noticed he was in a room by himself, likely an office before the SDC took it over. There were posters on the wall, littered with encouraging quotes. There was a window on the far wall, and the sun looked to be fading behind the horizon. The nurses shuffled out of the room, and he attempted to sit up. Their warnings hadn't clicked with him, clearly, as he immediately realized they hadn't been lying.

     There was a throbbing in his lower back, and his chest threatened to cave in on him. How many days had it been since he'd last felt physical pain? The number escaped him, he was far too groggy to try and recall much. It took a great amount of effort, but he managed to swing his legs over the side of the bed. Why was he trying to walk already?

     He didn't know why, but he felt unbelievably rushed. George didn't trust his unused legs to hold him up, so he stretched and waited. He couldn't go too fast, he had been in a coma-like-sleep for the past while, and no one could bounce back from that immediately.

     He let out a loud groan, feeling the pain from his hips down to the tip of his toes. Fuck, even the slightest bit of pressure sent pins and needles throughout him. He tried to stand, just trying to see. He fell backwards immediately, resulting in a shockwave throughout him. Too many muscles used at once, too fast.

     No, it's too early for this. He had to wait, as much as it made his heart pump. He heard the door open and a gasp sounded. He cursed inwardly, knowing he'd been caught in the act. The nurses had told him not to move, and now they'd seen him. They'd watch him closer now, it'd be impossible to move around.

     " It's true," he heard a familiar voice whisper. He turned around, though he regretted it when pain shot up his neck. Toby rushed to his side, tears pricking at his eyes. " It's really George."

     The boy was gentle, but still unaware of how much George was hurting, and he pulled the Brit into a hug. He bit his lip, holding in everything. Toby pulled away, smiling sadly. He was awake, George realized, he was alive. He'd escaped his door, and Tommy could feel in his heart that Toby was awake. He had been right. That meant the other two were around as well.

     " We were so worried about you," Toby said quietly. " When the nurses moved Tommy, Clay, and you into single rooms, I was so scared."

     " Wait, they moved all three of us," George muttered.

     The SDC, the most disgusting organization the brunette could imagine. He recalled the way they'd kept Eret, the ninth man, in an empty room while they were trying to kill him. They wanted something from him: his heart. They'd given him a slightly larger dosage of whatever that mysterious liquid was in the drip. George had read books where the villains had killed their victims slower, in an attempt to make the purposeful deaths as natural-looking as they could. It was possible that was what they were doing with Eret.