Ash and Cinder

36| Aftermath

I wake up suffocating on something foul jammed down my throat. Ridged edges scrape at the raw corners of my lips and snake down my mouth. I gag, the tube jerks but won't come out. Two seconds awake and I'm already choking to death. Figures. I try to grab at whatever holds the tube in place, but my hands don't move. I can't move, can't breathe, can't think straight. What is this? What is this? What's happening?

"He's awake!"

Everything is dark, too heavy to be real. My eyes are stuck shut, and that's the part that terrifies me the most. I gag again, violently. Fighting to get my hand up, to get this thing out of me, to do anything.

"Yana!"

I recognize Delilah's voice, like a punch to the gut. She's not supposed to be here, we sent her home. We sent her to safety.

"What are you doing?"

"Sedating him."

My heartbeat thrums hummingbird-like against my ribcage, lungs convulsing. The edges of the tube cut grooves into the inside of my throat and the taste of iron floods my mouth.

"He just woke up."

"He need more time to heal before we can take tube out."

Warmth spreads up one of my arms, surprising me. It travels like wildfire, somewhere in the chaos I recognize the feeling of sedative coursing into my veins. Seconds later it hits my head, plunging me into an ocean of oblivious warmth. I feel no less suffocated, no less threatened, but a moment more and unconsciousness relieves me of thought.

Countless times I wake up the same way. Countless times they put me under again. Elle never returns, the grey never makes a re-appearance. There is only void black and bare snippets of the lullaby that ebbs and flows on no particular beat.

***

My throat burns, but this time the hard plastic edges don't scratch away my tongue. Air moves in and out of my lungs the way it should. And I can open my eyes.

The first thing I see is the blurry panels of a false ceiling. I stare at them for ages, until my eyes stop burning and the tiny holes look more like speckles than smears. I feel heavy, as if layers and layers of sand are piled on top of me. Everything hurts but in a dull, muted way, except for my right leg. That I can't feel much of at all. I tilt my head to get a better look at my surroundings and figure out where I am.

The room is small, glass sliding doors take up one wall and give a view into what looks like a miniature, empty lobby. A wooden door to the left of the glass wall is half-open, beyond it is a toilet and a sink, and further to the left, a stuffed red chair is crammed into the corner. I know by the glass wall that this isn't the Compound, the chair and bathroom confirm it.

"Morning, sunshine."

I turn my head towards the sound. Standing at the side of my bed is Delilah, a row of stitches curves down her left temple, scattered around the cut are burst blood vessels. She looks rested though, and clean.

"Here." She holds a cold spoon to my mouth. "Ice chips, Yana said to give you some if you woke up."

Never in my entire life has ice tasted so good. Cool trickles of water soothe the cotton balls that coat the inside of my throat. While I suck on the ice chips, Delilah perches on the edge of the bed. "You really had us going for a while there, the doctors didn't know if you'd make it past the first hour. But here you are."

"Don't sound so happy," I make a poor attempt at a joke, my voice is too hoarse to rise above a whisper. She smiles wanly and offers another spoonful of ice. My side aches something awful.