(no subject)
Gordon got used to bad sleep long, long ago. It's better than it used to be- five hours at a stretch before the nightmares kick in, sometimes more than that- but it's still a very strange thing for him to wake up without some sort of interruption or disturbance.
This night, alas, is a strange thing of an entirely different sort. When his breath catches and his eyes flick open, he lies very still while the world stops blurring and spinning, the way it always does when he's wrenched straight to wakefulness from REM; then he rolls onto his back to stare up at the ceiling for a while, just to be sure it's there and he's here.
This night, alas, is a strange thing of an entirely different sort. When his breath catches and his eyes flick open, he lies very still while the world stops blurring and spinning, the way it always does when he's wrenched straight to wakefulness from REM; then he rolls onto his back to stare up at the ceiling for a while, just to be sure it's there and he's here.