Who: Ivy and Chase [and eventually multiples?] Where: The barn When: Sunrise
The gasp was so loud that Chase wasn't sure if he'd woken up to make it first, or if it had actually pulled him out of whatever was left of unconsciousness. He knew that he was flailing, his limbs crashing painfully into something hard and flat as he tried to untangle himself from the thing that had a hold of him, his breaths so shallow he couldn't get out the scream that desperately wanted to escape from his parched, aching throat. He couldn't hear, the sound of his heartbeat fighting for dominance over the high pitched noise bouncing around in his ears. All he could think of were those hands on him, that mouth wrapping around his head, being wrapped up and pulled and crushed and taken. Where was it. Where was it? Where WAS IT??
Backpack. The word fluttered through his mind, but he couldn't figure out why until he focused on it, repeating it mentally until he realized that what he was feeling were the straps of his pack sliding down his shoulders, the pack itself pinned between his back and the ground.
He stilled, his chest heaving as the noise in his head began to dull, and his eyes focused on what was above him. A wooden floor. Old. Around him, old hay, a wooden wall. The barn. The barn. The barn.
"Shit," he breathed, his inhales and exhales ragged and loud as his heavy limbs dropped to the floor and stayed there. "God, shit."