James awoke with a start, his heart pounding, and his head foggy. He glanced around the room and for a long moment he had no idea where he was. The white walls, the plain wood floor, the birds singing outside as the rose gold light of dawn filtered in through the window all seemed alien to him. He dragged himself up, resting against the headboard. His breath rasped in and out of his lungs as if the air was too hard to breathe.
He contemplated opening the window and it opened, the latch undoing itself. The cold, brisk air of morning washed over him, shocking him into reality, but still the thoughts that had awoken him lingered, heavy, threatening to overpower him once more.
If he had been dreaming he couldn't remember. If he had been awake he couldn't recall. If something had woken him, he couldn't place it, but his heart still raced and his blood pounded in his ears. He tried to remind himself that he was safe, but darkness fringed his vision and each time he closed his eyes he entered another world entirely.
He stumbled out of bed, gripping onto the dresser. He wanted to throw up. His head was aching, ready to split. What was happening to him? He took a few steadying breaths, pinching his eyes shut.
Smoke and fire filled his vision. He could taste it in his mouth, smell it on his clothes. He could feel the heat of the flames on his body, in his body. His head began to swim. He sunk to the floor, propping himself up against the dresser.
Snippets of conversation floated to him like flotsam on a vast ocean.
"Are you sure we can't use him? Hardly seems smart handing him back".
The voice was heavy and crackling, rattling in his head, a ghost of a memory, that constricted his chest.
"No, the boss has plans for him. He's going to be her gift".
"James?"
James wrenched his eyes open and pressed his hands to his ears, trying to block out the words that were somehow trapped in his head.
Charlotte was kneeling in front of him, her face screwed up in pain or concentration or both. "It'll be okay," she breathed. "It'll be okay".
The words sounded agonised as she said them and they were distant, as if she wasn't right before him.
"Make it stop," he hissed. "Make it stop".
"I will... I'll try," she muttered. "We need help!"
She closed her eyes, gritting her teeth, her head twitching birdlike.
A large thump echoed hollowly in the real world. "What the hell was that?" Ian growled wrenching the door open opposite James' room. He looked dishevelled and half-asleep.
There words were drifting away from him. Ian and Charlotte were becoming dreamlike, the words in his head becoming stronger.
"Your wake up call," Charlotte growled. "Help him! I can't..."
She recoiled from James like a wounded animal. She seemed afraid of him, her face grey, her expression strained. She looked in pain, but even as he gazed at her she seemed to fade, the dark edges pushing in on him. The real world fading to spectral wisps of existence.
"I say he's better off dead," the first voice growled. "We're handing them back one of their greatest weapons".
"It's all about give and take - give and take. We took him and we give him back and hope we catch something better!"
"What's wrong with him?" Ian snapped, bringing James back to the present for a moment. It was like looking at Ian through a fog.
"He's trapped in a waking nightmare..." Charlotte growled. "I think it's from when they had him".
"Jesus! Charlotte you need to get away from him. Go get help. Get Harris," Ian said, grabbing James' shoulder and shaking it.
"I can't... I..."
"Now Charlotte! Last thing we need is you losing control".
James didn't know if she had left or not, he didn't care. He saw Ian, fringed by darkness, his words echoing and distant. The other voices were closer, in his head.
"Alexander mate, it's not real. You're safe. It's not real. They can't hurt you now".
"Stop..." he groaned. "Make them stop".
"Make who stop?"
"They didn't want me. They gave me back to take something more. They are going to come here and take it. Nobody is safe here. Nobody..."
James heard footsteps hammering the floor like thunder. It filled his head. Ian vanished. There were more voices, distant, panicked. Harris loomed before him, concern marring his face.
"You're okay James," he breathed. "It will be over soon".
James hissed as he felt the bite of a needle in his arm. The dark edges of his sight started to push in, Harris blurring into uncertainty and then darkness stole him.
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