Break Down
A/N: Hi this is just a test chapter to see if anyone has any interest in the story. There isn't really any focus on pairings so the only ones that'll make any kind of appearance might be Spitfire, and that will only be in passing. please read and review. tell me what you think of the story. It's a new format I don't know what you guys will think of it, I've never used it before. (if you don't like it I can try a different one.) Also please keep in mind that what he's thinking about how everyone else views him is only percieved. The thing about psychology is that the only person it has to make sense to is you for it to be gospel.
Warning: there are instances of severe depression, suicide attempt, hospitalization, and illogical thought process.
Wally sit's on his bed waiting for the ambien to start working in his system. He's been up all night for the past six days and has little to no fuel in his system. He's too depressed to eat, and too anxious to sleep. The only way he can even touch the ignorant bliss of unadulturated sleep is when he he's pops some pills in his mouth. Of course due to his metabolism he has to take more pills than your average joe. So much so that the prescription he gets for the Ambien is just a cover for the overload of pills he has to get through other means. (The insurance company only allots him 18 pills a month. Apparently someone cant' count because there is much more than 18 days in a single month.) Thankfully (in a bittersweet way) his metabolism may be to fast for three pills to even make a dent in his inability to sleep, it's slow enough for ten to be just fine (for now.) His metablolism still isn't as fast as Uncle Barry's ("you don't have the Allen eyes" more proof of inadequacy.)
The pills are starting to muddle his thought process, but back in his mind he still dreads the idea of sleep. (What's the use of falling asleep if in the morning he still has to wake up. He hears his phone ring in the background. He ignores it. For all he knows it's probably some bill collector or solicitor. It's highly unlikely that it could be anyone looking to check-up on him. No one has for the past two months. Paula blames him for her daughter's death (Wally would if her were her, He's surprised she didn't ban him from the funeral.) Artemis is down under (she could die if she called him.) Barry's been too busy (Bart, Iris, the twins, being a hero.) Bart's gone (his fault.) He and Dick have drifted apart (also. his fault.)
Wanting the constant self-hating and self-demeaning thoughts to stop he takes some more pills...the rest of the bottle. He now has 25 ambien in his system, but he knows it's not enough. He'd still survive. So he takes the rest of his Zoloft (how come there's only ten left in the bottle?) He opens the Tylenol and pours half the bottle into his shaking hand, causing several pills to fall to the floor. He doesn't notice. He's too medicated to know his up from his down. He starts to develop a headache, so he lays down on the bed hoping to make it go away. He hears the phone ring again as he feels his world fall into darkness.
He's brought back to the land of the living when he hears the door to his room burst open. He lifts his head up slightly from the bed in recognition before laying it back down. He just wants to go back to sleep.
The second time he wakes up it's because of two hands placed on his shoulders. They're shaking him and he hears an unfamiliar voice yelling for him to wake up. Asking him what it was that he took.
He really doesn't want to answer. He just wants to go back to sleep. Why can't they just let him sleep? Ambien, he answers them (he thinks, he's really too tired to know whether or not he actually opened his mouth) so they'd let him go back to sleep.
They don't. The next time he wakes up he's strapped to something, and it's moving. He can't see he's too tired to pry open his eyes, but he can hear people talking to him. Telling him to stay awake. He doesn't want to and he wishes they would just let him rest.
Next thing Wally knew he was being rolled passed the double door and down a long hallway. His eyes were finally open (he thinks. The only thing that he could see was a wall of blinding white) , and everyone was yelling. He could feel someone shove something under his nose and if he had enough energy he would have heaved at the smell. The most he could do right now was just jerk slightly.
He heard someone say while shaking his shoulder "Wake up Daniel" (I'm not Daniel I am awake) He hadn't noticed, but Wally was too far gone to say anything at the moment. "C'mon Daniel we need you to stay with us."
His chest was heavy and it was getting hard to breath. He was still to tired to use any other of senses besides hearing. Through haze he overheard male ask someone (probably a doctor. He's gathered enough to know that he was in the hospital. He wonders who found him.) If they should pump his stomach. He doesn't hear the reply when he sinks back into oblivion.
The next time he woke up he sitting up. People in white holding him up and holding a clear hospital jug filled with black gunk. He felt the nurses (he guesses they were nurses) hands on his back. He couldn't hear anyone, but he felt that he needed to drink the gunk that was in cup. He didn't know why he just knew it was important. (he couldn't hear the other people in the room. Couldn't hear that they were urging him to drink the charcoal that would clean out his system.) He drank as much as he could (there was less than an inch left in the jug) before going back under.
He spent the rest of the night in a haze. Everytime he woke back up it felt as if his mind were under water. Apparently that stuff they shoved down his throat was supposed to clean out his system, because he kept throwing up. He wasn't even lucid enough hold his own bag, because even though he can barely hold his head up straight he can see one of the nurses (male) holding the bag under his mouth for him, and wiping his chin when he was done. He was in and out of consciousness for the rest of the night.
He wakes up the next morning and is lucid enough to notice that the sun was out. He could tell from how it fell across the room from the window located behind his gurney. He was still in the one of the emergency room's examination areas. He looked around and noticed that there were IVs in his arm pumping in nutrients and fluid.
around his other arm was a blood pressure machine that kept taking his vital every five minutes. (It was really getting on his nerves...He would have taken it off if the nurse on the other side of the room wasn't give him a "do it I dare ya'" glare...really I thought nurses were supposed to be nice?) Another thing he noticed was that his throat was dry and raw. It hurt to breath, and there was a mask over his face, and on top of all that he was developing a killer headache.
He looked to one of the nurses checking his IV "Water?" he asked wincing at not only the pain in his throat, but also at how weak his voice sounded. It sounded more like a frog's croak than a request.
The nurse walked around the end of his bed and replied "I'm sorry sir, but you can't have any water. You're still nauseous. I can get you ice chips though." The nurse turned around and left the room. An hour later he still hadn't come back with the Ice Chips. (Really? Is everyone that works here just a dick or something? Ha. Dick.) He winced at the thought of his best friend. He hopes he doesn't know about what happened. He really hope no one knows. He lays his head back and tries to sleep through the headache.