waking up is hard to do
Something didn't feel right. My first step into waking up - and the first of my steps this week into understatement history, ironically - was met with much confusion. There were people around me, I knew that much, all bustling back and forth and paying no attention to the previously comatose one who'd just woken up from her-- Woah.
I blinked. Coma? I wasn't sure how I knew, to be honest. I could still feel the weapons cabinet crashing behind me, still see the look on Angel's face as I fell and then nothing. Darkness. I didn't remember.
I struggled to sit up, my movements jerky and I heard someone call my name from across the room.
"...you're in hospital," I heard her say as she pushed a hand against my already struggling shoulder to get me back down on the bed, "Do you know what your name is?"
My name? I looked up at her, squinting at the bright white lights that sparked off tiny fractures of pain behind my eyes and frowned, "I'm Cordelia Chase." I had to resist adding the 'duh' on the end. No matter how cranky I felt at being shoved into a weapons cabinet and then forced into a coma, it wasn't the Nurse's fault.
"Do you know what date it is? The year?" She asked. Standard coma questions - just like the one's I'd been used to from Vocah. Great.
"May 22nd," I said, though I really could have been in the coma for longer than that, "2004?"
Her face remained neutral but I could see everything in her eyes. "Okay, so I'm out," I conceded warily, "Wanna give a girl a fighting chance by telling her how much?"
"I-I'll just get the doctor," she murmured, taking a step backwards.
I didn't want a doctor goddamnit, I wanted answers! "What? Wait a second--" My pleas fell on deaf ears. She was out of my room like a shot and I was left with a bunch of other patients. A bunch of other doctors, all busy with their charges.
When my doctor finally came back, he didn't say much. He looked at me thoughtfully for a couple of minutes, shining really unpleasant beams in my eyes and doing random doctor-ish things before telling me he'd contacted a friend of mine and they'd be over to pick me up at the next opportunity.
"So what day is it?" I asked, "Am I a couple of weeks out?"
"Ms. Chase, perhaps we should wait until a-a familiar face gets here?"
Familiar face? What the hell? Why was he trying to fob me off this stuff? "Now," I frowned, "Now is as good a time as any."
"Ms. Chase, I'm afraid--You've been in that coma for a lot longer than you think. Today is July 29th--" And it still didn't hit, not even when he said that, "July 29th, 2006..."
It kind of did hit then. Hit and hit hard in the form of a vision that almost blew me backwards off my bed, though this didn't hurt for some reason.
Connor, Angel, Wesley. Groo. A holiday. A mind wipe. Everything in between. Darkness. So much darkness. Didn't end.
When I came back I was clutching my chest, staring at the doctor as if he'd grown a third head. "What the hell was that?" I demanded.
"You had a vision?" He actually looked rather excited and I thought of Wes in one of his eureka moments. Come to think of it-- Wait. How the hell did he know about my visions?
"Where am I?" I asked, suddenly.
The doctor quirked an eyebrow, "You're in hospital, Ms. Chase. Mr. Angel demanded the very best care for you once he'd taken over Wolfram and Hart. He told us everything."
"I'm sorry," I murmured, "Could you repeat that without the crazy? Because I'm pretty damn sure that you just said my best friend works for Wolfram and Hart."
"Worked," said the doctor, puzzled, "I believe the term we use is 'sabbatical'? Mr. Wyndham-Pryce runs the firm now. He visited this morning..."
I felt funny. My knees felt weak, my heart was pounding in my chest and all of a sudden, it was getting really really hard to breathe.
I blinked. Coma? I wasn't sure how I knew, to be honest. I could still feel the weapons cabinet crashing behind me, still see the look on Angel's face as I fell and then nothing. Darkness. I didn't remember.
I struggled to sit up, my movements jerky and I heard someone call my name from across the room.
"...you're in hospital," I heard her say as she pushed a hand against my already struggling shoulder to get me back down on the bed, "Do you know what your name is?"
My name? I looked up at her, squinting at the bright white lights that sparked off tiny fractures of pain behind my eyes and frowned, "I'm Cordelia Chase." I had to resist adding the 'duh' on the end. No matter how cranky I felt at being shoved into a weapons cabinet and then forced into a coma, it wasn't the Nurse's fault.
"Do you know what date it is? The year?" She asked. Standard coma questions - just like the one's I'd been used to from Vocah. Great.
"May 22nd," I said, though I really could have been in the coma for longer than that, "2004?"
Her face remained neutral but I could see everything in her eyes. "Okay, so I'm out," I conceded warily, "Wanna give a girl a fighting chance by telling her how much?"
"I-I'll just get the doctor," she murmured, taking a step backwards.
I didn't want a doctor goddamnit, I wanted answers! "What? Wait a second--" My pleas fell on deaf ears. She was out of my room like a shot and I was left with a bunch of other patients. A bunch of other doctors, all busy with their charges.
When my doctor finally came back, he didn't say much. He looked at me thoughtfully for a couple of minutes, shining really unpleasant beams in my eyes and doing random doctor-ish things before telling me he'd contacted a friend of mine and they'd be over to pick me up at the next opportunity.
"So what day is it?" I asked, "Am I a couple of weeks out?"
"Ms. Chase, perhaps we should wait until a-a familiar face gets here?"
Familiar face? What the hell? Why was he trying to fob me off this stuff? "Now," I frowned, "Now is as good a time as any."
"Ms. Chase, I'm afraid--You've been in that coma for a lot longer than you think. Today is July 29th--" And it still didn't hit, not even when he said that, "July 29th, 2006..."
It kind of did hit then. Hit and hit hard in the form of a vision that almost blew me backwards off my bed, though this didn't hurt for some reason.
Connor, Angel, Wesley. Groo. A holiday. A mind wipe. Everything in between. Darkness. So much darkness. Didn't end.
When I came back I was clutching my chest, staring at the doctor as if he'd grown a third head. "What the hell was that?" I demanded.
"You had a vision?" He actually looked rather excited and I thought of Wes in one of his eureka moments. Come to think of it-- Wait. How the hell did he know about my visions?
"Where am I?" I asked, suddenly.
The doctor quirked an eyebrow, "You're in hospital, Ms. Chase. Mr. Angel demanded the very best care for you once he'd taken over Wolfram and Hart. He told us everything."
"I'm sorry," I murmured, "Could you repeat that without the crazy? Because I'm pretty damn sure that you just said my best friend works for Wolfram and Hart."
"Worked," said the doctor, puzzled, "I believe the term we use is 'sabbatical'? Mr. Wyndham-Pryce runs the firm now. He visited this morning..."
I felt funny. My knees felt weak, my heart was pounding in my chest and all of a sudden, it was getting really really hard to breathe.