Who: Chase and Kiley Where: In transit from the hospital to the mansion When: around 5pm
With what little cognitive ability he could muster for the moment, Chase couldn't quite remember ever being so completely exhausted. His mind only seemed capable of focusing on the seemingly endless, zombie-esque forward shuffle of his feet, doing its best to not think about the burning pain that radiated through the rest of his body. It was duller now, and on some level he was aware that it was going to hurt much worse later, once the shock and numbness wore off, once his muscles could recall the convulsions and tension that had stretched them to their limits, and likely beyond.
He couldn't quite remember anything that had happened in the room after the first few doses of pain had been dished out. He hadn't quite been fine when he'd first arrived, as late as he imagined the Powers That Be would allow. He'd had the brave face on, or his equivalent, but that had dissolved the moment he stepped into the room. He couldn't recall just how many times they'd unleashed their punishment, or how much time he'd spent writhing around on the cold floor before he'd managed to get himself on the table. Maybe it was better that he actually didn't remember much of the exam itself. He'd blacked out once or twice, but he didn't know for how long. He'd found his way back to the elevator, and vomited at least once by the time he found himself outside. The wound on his thigh was wide open and bleeding again, but he paid it no heed. He swallowed once, the rawness causing him to cough for an instant, though he couldn't tell if that was from the acid in his stomach, or the screaming.
Sleep. All he wanted was sleep. Just to close his eyes and start over again tomorrow. He could even just drop onto the couch in his room, and look forward to inevitably waking up in his bed come morning. Strange how that was actually comforting now. Maybe he wouldn't have to go anywhere tomorrow, do anything, see anyone. He had the food he'd kept with him during his overnight at the library. That could easily last him for a day.
He staggered and nearly tripped over a stick in his line of movement, catching himself with one hand on the pavement, causing a jolt of pain to bolt up his wrist and into his shoulder. Tiny rocks dug into his palm, and with as much effort as he was willing to expend he simply brushed it against the cloth of his shirt. If it was bleeding he could check later. For now he just needed to get back to the house.