only then did i reckon my curse
Day: 23
Characters: Suchong (biochong) and Chase (no_afterword)
Summary: Suchong's decided that his assistant will double as his personalized meat shield. Chase doesn't approve of waking up with stitches in his skull.
DAY/NIGHT & Time: Day, shortly before lunch
Status: Closed, Complete
The world swam back into focus slowly, as if he was being dragged up from the bottom of a deep and dark ocean.
Chase blinked rapidly, bringing one hand up to rub briefly at his eyes. For a few moments (which he would later come to despise), he had no idea where he was or what was going on, why the ceiling was white and not a stony black, why his neck stung slightly and his head throbbed with a dull ache. Something had ... ugh, what had just ...
And then he sat up so fast he nearly fell off the table he'd been lying on, the memory coming back to him and bringing along a barely-inhibited fury.
The doctor had called him into the therapy rooms, not his office, that should have been his first hint, but he'd gone anyway because apparently demotions were a frequent sight in this place (along with unnecessary promotions). He'd opened the door and asked, as politely as he'd ever asked, what the doctor needed, but then the man was at his side and jamming something into his neck, a syringe - depressing the plunger and catching him off-guard which should never have happened. The world grayed and blackened and then there was nothing, until now, and --
Suchong stood nearby, his back to the table. Chase curled his hands into fists and glared, trying to keep at least some modicum of restraint on his rage.
"What," he asked, his voice a low and deadly hiss, "did you just do to me?"
Characters: Suchong (biochong) and Chase (no_afterword)
Summary: Suchong's decided that his assistant will double as his personalized meat shield. Chase doesn't approve of waking up with stitches in his skull.
DAY/NIGHT & Time: Day, shortly before lunch
Status: Closed, Complete
The world swam back into focus slowly, as if he was being dragged up from the bottom of a deep and dark ocean.
Chase blinked rapidly, bringing one hand up to rub briefly at his eyes. For a few moments (which he would later come to despise), he had no idea where he was or what was going on, why the ceiling was white and not a stony black, why his neck stung slightly and his head throbbed with a dull ache. Something had ... ugh, what had just ...
And then he sat up so fast he nearly fell off the table he'd been lying on, the memory coming back to him and bringing along a barely-inhibited fury.
The doctor had called him into the therapy rooms, not his office, that should have been his first hint, but he'd gone anyway because apparently demotions were a frequent sight in this place (along with unnecessary promotions). He'd opened the door and asked, as politely as he'd ever asked, what the doctor needed, but then the man was at his side and jamming something into his neck, a syringe - depressing the plunger and catching him off-guard which should never have happened. The world grayed and blackened and then there was nothing, until now, and --
Suchong stood nearby, his back to the table. Chase curled his hands into fists and glared, trying to keep at least some modicum of restraint on his rage.
"What," he asked, his voice a low and deadly hiss, "did you just do to me?"