fic - two chances : 4

Two Chances : 4

He wakes.  Or at least, he thinks he wakes.  There's something out of the ordinary about his waking.  He thinks about it, and realizes that the thinking about it is the part that is out of the ordinary.  He's pretty sure he's the kind of person that just wakes up and is ready to go.

Having realized that, he's pretty certain he's awake now.  He thinks about opening his eyes, takes a breath to ready himself for sitting up, and figures out why he is feeling so disconnected from his body right now.  Those are definitely bandages wrapped around his torso.  Quite snugly done, he thinks, but not professional grade.

He hasn't a clue what his injuries are.  His entire body is a blurry mess of aches and pains.  He twitches his toes, and then his fingers, and that seems to work out alright, so there can't be anything too catastrophic.  And his brain?

The thing that dominates his most recent memory is the explosion, a concussive force that left him feeling crushed from all sides even as he went flying free through the air.  He prods his memory a bit more and finds a second impact, or perhaps a series of them.  The sequence is more drawn out than the first.  Hitting the ground, he suspects.  He must not have faded to black immediately, because he remembers thinking, 'fuck, that hurt', but also thinking that it was fine, because it would be the last time, and there had been a certain comfort to that.

He doesn't know why he's still alive.  He suspects the universe is saying, 'Fuck you, you don't get to die yet.'

He takes another breath to sigh, and grimaces at the bandages binding his ribs.  Well, if the universe wants him to take another crack at it, he doesn't suppose he has much of a choice.  Hopefully the universe isn't annoyed enough at him to have started his second act in OZ custody.  He tunes out the clamor of his body and listens.  No hum of any machines near him.  No buzz of institutional lighting.  No, not a hospital.  He can't quite place it, though.  He takes a breath, carefully this time... Does he smell food?

His first order of business is probably just getting upright, but after that?  Well, first things first.  He forces his eyes to open.






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