Carpe Diem
folder
Original - Misc › -Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
11
Views:
3,098
Reviews:
12
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Original - Misc › -Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
11
Views:
3,098
Reviews:
12
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
A Brief Reawakening from Reverie
A/N: To Young Sage: the lack of punctuation at the end was completely intentional. Though I still might be out of my mind, though I doubt that has anything to do with my update schedule. And, for those who haven't read The Sound and the Fury, in Quentin's chapter, near the end, Faulkner does pretty much the same thing. It was actually the inspiration for that.
A Brief Reawakening from Reverie
are you okay jim are you okay
the demons were back their shadows encroaching invading devouring he felt them felt as they searched his heart his soul and found him wanting that evil glint in their eyes their joy evident in their smirks their laughs their eyes so piercing so piercing he could feel them piercing his flesh and why wouldnt they stop why wouldnt they go away just leave him alone
Why wouldn't they just leave him alone?
His body lurched forward, still drowsy and groggy from his forced unconsciousness. He felt disoriented, confused. Where was he? The room felt somehow familiar; the bed, intimate. Pleasant, almost. His body hurt, ached all over. He made a slight cry of agony. Strong, sweet arms wrapped around him. A wonderful, comforting, calming embrace.
“Jim?”
“Yeah?”
The embrace tightened.
“I was so worried.”
“How long was I out for?”
“About two days.”
“Two days?”
“Yeah. I think it was from shock at first, but by yesterday morning you had a fever. Good thing I'm a doctor, right?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
Jim felt restless, like he had to move, to get up, to do something other than just lay around. He made to get up, but Patrick stopped him.
“You really shouldn't try and get up in your condition. You probably won't be able to walk normally for a while, either. Did you want something?”
“Some water would be nice.”
Patrick swiftly went to fetch him a glass, leaving Jim alone with his thoughts. Two days. Had it really been two days? He felt. . . he wasn't sure what he felt. Hurt, tired, sick, disgusted, dirty, filthy. He heard footsteps approaching from the other room. Footsteps. Echoing in the darkness of the shadows with a jeer and a sneer and a chuckle. The room enclosed about him. He felt trapped, isolated, panicked. His vision began to fail him again. Why wouldn't they just leave him alone?
“Jim? What's wrong?”
There was panic, fear in his voice. Jim felt him again, a hand on his forehead. The contact almost made him want to vomit.
“Oh God, you're burning up.”
Jim felt himself being lifted up and rushed away. He was disoriented and confused still and he wasn't entirely sure what all was going on. Where was he, again? He heard, then felt running water. Not too cold and not too hot. It almost felt nice. Laying in a tub of lukewarm bathwater, half-unconscious to the goings on around him. His mind finally blank, unthinking.
He was unsure how long precisely he had been just laying there, but, after a time, he was led back into the bed by Patrick. Dried off, settled back under the warm covers in the hope of returning to that blissful state of unawareness. But first, a glass of water. Doctor's orders.
A Brief Reawakening from Reverie
are you okay jim are you okay
the demons were back their shadows encroaching invading devouring he felt them felt as they searched his heart his soul and found him wanting that evil glint in their eyes their joy evident in their smirks their laughs their eyes so piercing so piercing he could feel them piercing his flesh and why wouldnt they stop why wouldnt they go away just leave him alone
Why wouldn't they just leave him alone?
His body lurched forward, still drowsy and groggy from his forced unconsciousness. He felt disoriented, confused. Where was he? The room felt somehow familiar; the bed, intimate. Pleasant, almost. His body hurt, ached all over. He made a slight cry of agony. Strong, sweet arms wrapped around him. A wonderful, comforting, calming embrace.
“Jim?”
“Yeah?”
The embrace tightened.
“I was so worried.”
“How long was I out for?”
“About two days.”
“Two days?”
“Yeah. I think it was from shock at first, but by yesterday morning you had a fever. Good thing I'm a doctor, right?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
Jim felt restless, like he had to move, to get up, to do something other than just lay around. He made to get up, but Patrick stopped him.
“You really shouldn't try and get up in your condition. You probably won't be able to walk normally for a while, either. Did you want something?”
“Some water would be nice.”
Patrick swiftly went to fetch him a glass, leaving Jim alone with his thoughts. Two days. Had it really been two days? He felt. . . he wasn't sure what he felt. Hurt, tired, sick, disgusted, dirty, filthy. He heard footsteps approaching from the other room. Footsteps. Echoing in the darkness of the shadows with a jeer and a sneer and a chuckle. The room enclosed about him. He felt trapped, isolated, panicked. His vision began to fail him again. Why wouldn't they just leave him alone?
“Jim? What's wrong?”
There was panic, fear in his voice. Jim felt him again, a hand on his forehead. The contact almost made him want to vomit.
“Oh God, you're burning up.”
Jim felt himself being lifted up and rushed away. He was disoriented and confused still and he wasn't entirely sure what all was going on. Where was he, again? He heard, then felt running water. Not too cold and not too hot. It almost felt nice. Laying in a tub of lukewarm bathwater, half-unconscious to the goings on around him. His mind finally blank, unthinking.
He was unsure how long precisely he had been just laying there, but, after a time, he was led back into the bed by Patrick. Dried off, settled back under the warm covers in the hope of returning to that blissful state of unawareness. But first, a glass of water. Doctor's orders.