Amelia (quiet_bloom) wrote in the_next_step, @ 2009-05-09 22:28:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | amelia bartholomew/flora, hank mccoy/beast |
Captivity: Cell 14 (attn: Hank)
It was the pounding of her head between her temples that made Millie take those first tentative steps back towards awareness. It would have been easy to shy back, slip back into the darkness, and she couldn't be certain that she didn't do that a few times already. She had vague memories, more like dreams than actual events, of being carried and dropped to the ground with the harsh clang of metal on metal around her and of being rocked or held with what felt like long periods of blackness between each event.
But this time she wasn't allowed to fall back into darkness, nor was she allowed the freedom to wake up completely. Not just yet. She couldn't move, but she could feel, a little. Her head was aching fiercely, two pinpoints of throbbing pain in the back of her left arm, her throat was dry and her tongue felt thick in her mouth. She couldn't move her body, her arms and legs were limp, and her eyelids felt literally glued together and heavy as lead. It was like being trapped inside her own body.
It would have been worse, but she wasn't alone. She could feel that now, too. She hadn't dreamed someone cradling her, and she felt a large hand brush over her hair. She was aware enough now to know that was real, and she was relieved. She couldn't move or speak or open her eyes but she wasn't alone.
Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. What had happened? She remembered going to the museum with the children. It had been fun. She and Hank had taken their group of kids to see the exhibit on...
She must have drifted again, because when she came to herself again she could move. Her arms and legs no longer felt like limp nothings and she could move her own head. The ache in her head was worse though and her arm still throbbed a bit. Whoever had been holding her when she'd come to before hadn't let her go in the interim, however long or short that might have been.
She swallowed and managed to moisten her mouth and throat enough so that her tongue didn't feel so thick and clumsy. It took her eyes a few moments to focus after she'd opened them, and she'd stared blindly out of them while they cleared. When they did, the face was blessedly familiar.
"Hank?" she murmured, her voice soft and still drowsy.