He couldn't see. Why couldn't he see? Nearby a woman was screaming and crying; her sobs were harsh and ragged and wild, and they hurt his ears and head. Pain throbbed dully in his skull, and with each pulse came a wave of nausea. He wanted to be sick. Everything was white, a white bright agonizing blur...but now there were shadows, shadows shaped like people. He struggled to focus on their fuzzy outlines as they poked at him with fingers coated in some tight, slippery, unnatural material. A bitter alien scent clung to them, a clean yet unpleasant odour that felt scratchy in his nose. Something was not right. He wished the woman would be quiet so he could think and try to understand, but now she was choking out a word between her sobs, incessantly crying, "Derry, Derry!"
What's Derry? he wondered. The word meant nothing to him. No, not nothing. The more those two syllables fell on his ears, the more they stung a buried part of his aching brain, but he forced his thoughts away from there – the pain was too sharp, the effort too great. He was tired. There was a high-pitched, rhythmic beeping sound in the background. It too sounded unnatural, but it was oddly soothing in its regularity.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
His lids were heavy.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
His eyes itched.
Beep. Beep.
More poking.
Beep.
Enough. Enough for now.
He slipped back into the comforting blackness, away from the unnatural world of white light and blurred shadows, and for a few moments before it enveloped him entirely he saw the rolling green of his home country, but he felt no peace. The scratchy smell followed him into his dreams and the woman's broken voice rang in his ears, crying out for Derry.