Cecilia dreamed of drowning and sinking ships. She came awake slowly, feeling little difference between the waking world and that of her dreams. The world was rocking back and forth around her, and her lungs felt heavy with fluid. Despite not taking anything the night before, she felt groggy and disoriented. It didn't take her long to at least partially explain that last part. The room was far too bright.
Her eyes might as well have screamed in protest when she opened her eyes. Everything hurt, and breathing was a far more difficult concept than it should have been. Her first thought was, Goddammit, they've moved us again. Her second, I can't afford to get sick right now. Owen wasn't with her, and she couldn't help but be annoyed that They had separated them.
As she stirred Neptune and Minerva did as well, and it was a comfort to find them there with her. Cecilia wrapped her arms around them both and hugged them briefly, then used Neptune as leverage to pull herself into a sitting position. It felt like the entire sea was rocking with movement in her chest. She knew all too well what that could mean, but her thoughts on the subject were driven out of her mind by the view out her windows. It was all too familiar.
For one terrible moment, she felt a surge of confused panic. If she was in New York, was she free? Where was Owen? It wasn't a trick she would have fallen for on a 'normal' day (normal for this place, anyway), but the illness settling in her lungs had disoriented her. Her eyes darted around the room, and when she saw her cellphone and her glasses resting neatly on the bedside table she thrust the glasses onto her face and turned on her phone. She brought up the Zenith network and knew she was still there, and felt a sick wave of relief. She'd said once that she'd rather be stuck in this place with Owen than in the real world alone. She had meant it.
With that thought repeating safely in the back of her mind, Cecilia managed to climb out of bed and walk over to the windows, staring down at the city below. She hadn't been to New York in years, and was surprised to find she still considered it home. Maybe it always would be. As she looked down into the square she couldn't help but remember countless trips with her parents. Her father carrying her on his shoulders, laughing with her mom, back in the days when they could stand to look at each other. Her chest burned in a new way, a way that had nothing to do with any illness or injury.
She moved carefully, painstakingly slowly to sit on the floor. This felt like a new level of cruelty, to dangle them in plain sight in the real world. If they were in the real world. But she couldn't help but drink in the view of it all anyway. She missed it more than she would ever have imagined.