Not How Your Stories End

Chapter 12

Warnings: Speech Difficulties, Physical Restrictions, Medical Experiences (idk I just don't want people to get overwhelmed).

AN: AHHHHHH long time no see, eh? Sorry it takes so long to get these chapters to you. Work, depression, anxiety, medication changes, moving, student loans, you know? Anyways, as always I'd love to hear your thoughts/constructive criticism. You guys are the best :) If you wanna hmu up sometime: @mrntanksart on tumblr and @mrntanks on instagram

Foggy.

That's the only way Ezra could describe how he'd felt for the last... God, how long had it been?

Thinking back, the last things he could clearly remember were... hands. Yes, there were hands covering him, and voices asking him questions, and above it all, pain. Excruciating pain that started in his head and travelled all the way down his back like hundreds of horrible hammers pounding together in sync. It was horrific, and he had just wanted it to end.

But then it had. Just like that, his body had went stiff and numb and he had felt no more.

Everything after that was just a blur - or at least more of a blur than it had been before. Despite this, he felt that he could definitely recall a brief period of simply... peace. As if the galaxy had just melted away leaving behind only the overwhelming senses of comfort and clarity. In the distance, he could have even sworn that he had heard his mother singing the same, sweet, traditional Lothallian lullaby she sang to him every night before she was taken. Of course, this was impossible - his mother had been dead for many years - but for that brief moment, he couldn't deny that everything felt right.

But before he had been able to process it all, he found himself back where he started, and everything was foggy again.

But now, it seemed that the fog was starting to clear, and Ezra found himself becoming gradually more aware of his current surroundings. He could hear the faint impressions of voices around him, but he was too tired to interpret exactly what they were saying.

Feeling courageous, Ezra forced his eyes open, only to immediately close them at the sight of the harsh fluorescent lights. The pain in his head and back had returned full-force and he suddenly felt that falling back unconscious wouldn't be so bad. Even so, he was curious enough about where he may have ended up that he braved the pain and pried his eyes back open again. It wasn't until after his eyes adjusted - "adjusted" being used in the most liberal interpretation possible - that the sharp scent of antiseptic hit him like a freight train, causing him to wince back and recoil in pain. It was total sensory overload - and total misery.

Just as he considered giving up entirely, a sturdy and surprisingly understandable voice rose above the rest, piquing his interest.

"Doctor? I think he's waking up!" the voice half-whispered in near panic.

Ezra didn't recognize the person at all, which - under normal circumstances - would have been grounds for concern. But given that his head felt like it was moments away from bursting at the seams, Ezra honestly couldn't bring himself to care. Instead, he just squinted at the harsh light up above him and let himself find silent amusement at the nervousness of those around him.

"He's waking up?" a second voice began, older and cooler in nature than its predecessor. "Incredible! With what he's been through, I wouldn't have expected him to wake up for weeks, if at all..."

The last statement left Ezra a bit puzzled to say the least. What exactly had be 'been through'? And did this doctor seriously believe that he was going to die?

...Was he going to die?

Before he could fully descend into the sudden, oncoming panic, however, the voice of the apparent doctor cut through and seemed to address him specifically.