Returned

Chapter 5: Gee, and here I was thinking white was classy and elegant.

*EDITED*

Percy's pov.

I pry my eye's open, blurry, bright, fluorescent lights are the first thing I see. I groan, sitting up and stretching my arms as far as they will go, the edge of my shirt riding up.

Wait. Shirt?

I try to recall any time that I had changed out of my cyclone suit within that past twenty-four hours, but all that I can remember is a blurry battle and blue flames flickering. I try to take a step off the bed I've slept in, but hiss at the pain that ripples throughout my body. A tingling sensation took over, and I realized that my legs had fallen asleep. That wasn't all the pain I felt though, my chest feeling extremely hot, and throbbing as if I got hit with something deadly. Which, considering the situation, wasn't too hard to believe. I slowly inched my way off the gurney-bed thing, Wincing at the stinging, sharp pain that shot up my calves. My hands gripped the table beside me, doctor's instruments strewn across the top. A stethoscope, thermometer, gauze sponge, and a syringe clattered to the floor when my grip accidentally tipped the table, and I gasped at the noise. I noticed my cyclone suit and mask were folded neatly on a bench at the end of the bed, which gave me a slight comfort, because at least the person who had taken me here had the decency to fold clothes.

I took my time getting dressed, noticing the bandages wrapped around my midsection. A few scratches and nicks covered my arms and legs, most of the blood dried. Delightful. Even more hindering my ability to protect myself. Because there is obviously no reason I would need to protect myself in an unknown environment with creepy doctor tools and people who definitely know my secret identity.

I decided to walk towards the steel door on my left, despite the fact that I could barely stand. I struggled to move my feet, which felt like they were the offspring of a 2-ton sludge monster and Jabbah the Hutt, and had made up their mind to stick to the floor.

How did I always get into messes like this?

I took a jagged breath, trying to control my erratic intake of air.

Each step took miles of effort, sweat beading my brow as shots of pain zapped up my legs, all Michael Vey like. Soon enough, I got into a rhythm, and slowly made progress across the room. The injuries across my abdomen didn't exactly speed up the process, the extra strain giving me more agony.

Within the next...thirty? Forty? Minutes, I gripped the steel door handle, tensing my muscles, as I tried to pry the door open. The door let out a low groan, squeaking against the scrubbed marble floor underneath, and it made progress to open. I tugged it open, ignoring the loud screech that erupted from it.

I tumbled forward, finding myself in a sort of...waiting room? Lobby? It had a pair of stairs to my left, an elevator straight in front of me, and another pair of steel doors to my right, but this time with a lock.

I didn't even think about it, knowing in my condition the left or right options wouldn't be available.

I clicked the button for the elevator, and waited for the ding. When I stepped inside, it reminded me of the elevator on Olympus, all clean and expensive. Heck, the trim around the walls of the elevator must of cost hundreds, maybe thousands. I decided to press the "home" button, underestimating the speed of the machine. Within thirty seconds to a minute, I stumbled out of the open doors, into a scarily familiar room. The elevator closed behind me, matching the wall, obviously to be discreet. I slowly made my way through the large....living room? My fingers brushed the mantle above the fireplace, before stopping at one of the pictures that were strew across the top. It was me and Dick. That's why this place was familiar.

I was in Wayne Manor. Again.

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I just want to say that yes, I know that the elevator is probably not an actual entrance to the bat cave, but I have already added so much OOC stuff into this, why not add this?

Anyway, stay healthy and careful out there, peace out y'all!