[ he dreams and it's a nightmare. it's a visceral, vivid thing that sinks into his bones and infects his blood. most of the time, his dreams are shapeless things, snippets of the past that he doesn't allow himself to remember when he's awake. dreams that are easily combated and forgotten in the light of day.
this isn't like that. this is something else. this is something that wants to be remembered and so he tosses a bit in bed, twisting this way and that, tangling himself up in the thin sheets. and still the dream unspools, showing him more and more. an iv in his arm, people that he doesn't recognize, a word on a wall, colors.
then fog. he tries to look through it but can't. there's nothing there. nothing but —
his ceiling. he blinks, chest rising and falling as the dream clings to him. his chest burns. it's not the ache of a good workout or a good fight. no, this is something painful, something that he can't explain.
even though there's a modicum of panic rising in him now, he's still careful about extricating himself from the bed, not wanting to wake daisy. he can deal with this. he hurries to the bathroom, stepping inside and shutting the door before turning on the light.
the burning in his chest is still there and he rubs at it with his hand, turning on some cool water and bracing himself on the sink while a wave of discomfort and ache thrums through him. ]
around the arrival log idk what the actual date is
this isn't like that. this is something else. this is something that wants to be remembered and so he tosses a bit in bed, twisting this way and that, tangling himself up in the thin sheets. and still the dream unspools, showing him more and more. an iv in his arm, people that he doesn't recognize, a word on a wall, colors.
then fog. he tries to look through it but can't. there's nothing there. nothing but —
his ceiling. he blinks, chest rising and falling as the dream clings to him. his chest burns. it's not the ache of a good workout or a good fight. no, this is something painful, something that he can't explain.
even though there's a modicum of panic rising in him now, he's still careful about extricating himself from the bed, not wanting to wake daisy. he can deal with this. he hurries to the bathroom, stepping inside and shutting the door before turning on the light.
the burning in his chest is still there and he rubs at it with his hand, turning on some cool water and bracing himself on the sink while a wave of discomfort and ache thrums through him. ]