A/N: Hi all,
I apologise dearly for the delay in updating, it has been an incredibly hectic week and I have not been home. My good friend was kind enough to let me borrow their laptop because I wouldn't stop obsessing about getting it done... what has my life become... Also, it's 40 odd degrees Celsius (104+ in Fahrenheit), so not dying has been quite the priority lately. I've also been doodling more art work than writing in this blistering heat, hence the cover art.
Anyhoo, I'm not confident with this chapter as it does not contain my usual evilness, however, I hope you still enjoy it. Let me know if there is anything I should change please.
Also, thank you to those guest reviewers whom I cannot reply to, but your comments are very much appreciated, as are everyone else's.
please, enjoy.
LT. SIMON "GHOST" RILEY
LOCATION: CLASSIFIED
DATE: 17 January, 2015
Time: 1208 HRS
"Alive?"
"Yes, alive, albeit barely. His injuries are a trifle more severe than we first anticipated, it's taking its time to get everything under control."
He was alive! Holy hell, Gary was alive!
He didn't understand why, but that made him feel happy - happier than he could really recall being for a long while. But then it hit him, more severe? That resonated for a second.
"Wait, what? What's wrong with him? Where the hell is he?"
The man just raised an eyebrow at him scoldingly, as if to punish a young and passionate child for speaking out of line.
He could feel his anger rising now, and his blood boiling. How dare he? Did this man really have the right to question him, or their relationship after what they went through?
Was he questioning their relationship?
He knew he needed to keep his cool, but he couldn't help it. Couldn't be bothered helping it, he was being fuelled by his emotions. Not a smart thing to do in any case, had he not been incarcerated for other a month he would have to seriously reprimand himself for being so foolish. But he'd sort it out later. Right now; he had to find out about Gary.
"Mr. Riley, you need to calm down."
He scoffed.
What a condescending prick! Calm down? Calm the fuck down?! Is this git bloody serious?
He would show him calm the fuck down.
"Well if you tell me what the hell is wrong with him and where the fuck he is then i wouldn't bloody need to! I swear, arghh!" God he needed to control his anger he added as a mental note.
"You'll what? You are in no condition for this nonsense, nor is the Sergeant. I understand what you have been through, and you have every right to be angry - but not at us! I'll let it slide this time, but you better start getting your act together, for both of your sakes. God forbid, he's going to need it. I can only imagine what they did to that poor man."
Though Simon thought the man to be a complete arse, he could see the reverence and disgust written on the man's face at the thought of what he'd been through. Reverence for them, that is. Deciding calming down would weasel more answers out of the man, that's what he tried.
Deep breaths in and out. Calm the fuck down Simon, you are in control now.
"Listen mate." He said, sounding mostly calm, albeit with a hint of fear. "Please can you tell me where he is? You've got to understand, I've been by his side for over a month, I've seen everything they did to him, we've been forced to become close just to survive. I just need to see him, to make sure he's okay."
"Look, Simon, is it alright if i call you that?" He just nodded. "Simon, you've got to understand, the kids a mess, and you're not exactly in great health."
His bloody point was? He didn't say that though, instead he opted for feigning understanding and playing nice. He just nodded, which the man seemed to take pity on him because he sighed heavily and scrubbed his face with his hand, not quite in exasperation, but still annoyed.
"How about I cut you a deal?"
Huh? Now we're getting somewhere! what kind of deal though?
"Go on."
"If you promise to let me do all of these checks i need to do without so much as a squeak, and eat something without complaint, then i will let you see him. Sound fair?"
He just rolled his eyes. Bloody hell, he was being treated like a fucking kid. This geezer obviously didn't heed to severity of his situation, and that really pissed him off. He needed to bloody see Gary god damn it. But if he didn't comply, would he get to make sure the kid was still there, at all? Fuck, he hated this. There was nothing even fucking wrong with him as far as he was bloody concerned.
"Fine., but there's nothing wrong with me."
He eventually replied after several minutes of his internal debate.
This bloody better not take long.
"Be that as it may, I suggest we let the professional decide that, shall we?"
"Think I'd know if I was dyin' Doc."
"I know that, but i also know that even if you did know that you weren't well, you wouldn't tell anyone or ask for help. I wouldn't be doing my job well if i didn't make 100% sure Simon, it's not that i want to make your life worse. Am i correct with that assumption?"
He hated to admit it, but the man had somewhat of a point. Though, the veracity of the assumption certainly did not ease the annoyance he felt at the man any.
"I'll give you that one, but I'm pretty sure Ga- Sanderson, needs your attention more right now. We we're both put through hell, but he was the one that suffered physically - not me. Some food, water and sleep and I'll be right as rain."
The man looked at him thoughtfully for a minute.
"Huh. So that's what this is about. You."
The Doctor pointed at him for a second. "Feel guilty about everything - probably that he suffered worse, physically that is. You blame yourself, probably think that there was something you could have done to prevent it, so you feel it necessary to ensure that Gary is alright, by all means necessary. I'm also going to make the conjecture that you also think you do not deserve any help or to feel any better until he does. Which means, you will probably not leave him until he makes you go away. Thus giving me even more reason to check that you really are okay before i discharge you."
Sadly, the words were true, even he could admit that - quietly of course. But at least the man said he was going to be discharged if he was okay.
"How long will this take?"
"Hmm, not too long i shouldn't think. You probably are well enough physically not to be confined to the infirmary, should you eat and drink plenty - as well as get plenty of rest. However, you and i both know that the physical recovery is only half the battle. Mentally, your state is far from fine, however, i do not think it prudent to allow Gary to wake up somewhere unexpected with people he may or may not recognise and trust. It is because of that, and only because of that, that i will allow you to leave Simon. So please, do try not to kill anyone. It is my job on the line here."
He sighed, purely because he knew the other man was right, but he would never admit that to him. The man knew that too. He did appreciate that he would allow him to see Gary, and that he respected both their needs to not be apart. But he was getting impatient. He didn't even know how the kid was, not good in any case he would imagine. If it meant finding out sooner, he would force his temper in check.
"I promise I wont, alright? Anyway, what is his prognosis?"
This time it was the other man's turn to sigh.
"You're going to have to give us a report on what exactly happened to him, though, we do have experience enough to paint a rather accurate picture. He is not in a good way, and although he is alive, he is far from out of the red yet."
Oh god. He didn't like the sound of that, despite the lack of surprise he felt from knowing that.
"I will not go into explicit details with the full extent because i expect you wont understand all the medical jargon. However, i will tell you that; whatever injuries you expect to see and find, square the amount because it's not a good sight. He has a long road ahead of him in recovery, i expect you'll encourage him to get the psychological help he needs, yes?"
Pfft, like Gary would listen to him.
"Yeah, yeah, i will, but how is he? Stop avoiding the question mate."
He had to know.
"The gun shot wound will be both painful and restricting of movement, it hit his stomach and intestine, thus why it caused so much trouble. There are also the severe burns to his mouth, throat and the path it followed as he was forced to swallow it. He will not be able to talk for a while, and it will cause tremendous amounts of pain. Obviously, we will be injecting him with pain killers through the IV to assist with that, but they can only help so much. Do try not to make him feel so ashamed of being in pain, I know what you boys are like. It's frustrating and unnecessary."
"Gotcha."
He was annoyed at the unnecessary dig, but was too anxious to retort back.
"Continuing on, There are several broken ribs, as well as his leg - he's gone for the double. He also has an unusual injury to his hip."
"They stabbed a scalpel through it, one of the very first things they did."
"Ah. Makes sense, well it looked like it had been broken, but it hasn't healed particularly well. We are hoping that with rest and lack of movement, as well as setting it in a better position that it should heal alright now. The leg will be in a cast for a while also. Sadly, there isn't all that much we can do for ribs. Now, the burns are very severe, and the marks aren't at all pretty - something he'll have to learn to live with. As you know, the ones on his face aren't too large or plentiful, and given time they wont be too visible, but the burns to his torso and arms are quite bad. Try not to allow him to look at them too often, he'll more than likely associate the memories with the scars and he'll slip into the huge black hole we know as depression. I think you understand where I'm coming from."
Oh yeah, he most certainly did. He still could barely bare to look at the ones on himself, inflected by Roba, but he never really told any one about that nor did he let anyone in - except maybe Gary. Shit, Gary was in for a world of pain. He hoped the kid would let him in, so he wouldn't have to deal with this shit alone - though through his personal experiences, he probably would try to push him away. He'd have to try doubly hard to help the kid.
I cant let the kid fall into the same lonely path of isolation and no help as me, it's dark and takes you to a bad place. A very bad place. So, I have to help him somehow because it's important that that doesn't happen. I don't even understand why I need to help him so bad, but I do. Maybe the doctor was right before, that i feel guilty... Shit i don't know, but is it wrong to act like i care out of guilt? No, because i really do care about him, that's not just guilt talking, I've always cared about the kid, strangely enough. Loved the idiot from the... Wait?! What the fuck? Loved? What the hell are you on about, you twat! Holy crap, you're losing it Simon, you need to get your head back on straight before people start worrying... I just care about him, and if anything, it's just brotherly love, right? Right. That's it, I'm worrying over nothing.
Suddenly there was a noise in front of him pulling him from his thoughts, clicking fingers.
Shit, right - the bloke was talking to me. Oops.
He looked up to apologise for his rudeness, but the other man didn't appear angry, more concerned. Just what he needed.
"Should I be worried about you Simon? You were on another planet for at least a few minutes. Not a nice one at that i'll add if your facial expression was anything to go by."
"No. I'm fine, I was just thinking about what they did to Gary, and how to help him." he lied, flawlessly he thought. The other man didn't seem to agree with the flawlessness so much, but he was an idiot any way and Simon didn't care what he thought. His thoughts were back on seeing Gary again.
"Hmm. Well, do you wish for me to continue with the injuries or not?"
Shit, there was more?
"Yes, sorry. Please do."
"Well, there is a lot of swelling as well as dirt and filth caked in most places, not so dissimilar to you. I suggest showering before confining yourself to his room for his... Sojourn."
Now thinking about that, he did feel absolutely horrible and disgusting. There was grime everywhere and he just felt vile. Even just scrubbing his hand over his face he could feel the caked dirt, and shit - the fucking facial hair growing too. He hated that, always had and he was in desperate need of a shave, it was itchy and irritating. He wondered how he hated noticed that before. It was all he could think about now.
Maybe i should have a shower before i see him, but... No! I cant, what if he wakes up?
The other man had obviously seen his distress about the situation.
"He's not going to be awake for a while now, Mr. Riley, you have time to fix your personal hygiene, so please do."
"Thank god."
The thought of a nice, hot shower was bliss. Between his worrying thoughts about loving - no he didn't! Gary and the other man explaining the situation and his condition, he felt less desperate to be with the other man before he had managed to clean himself. He still wanted to see the man, don't get him wrong, but he definitely needed a shower first, that was for sure. And something to eat, fuck he hadn't noticed before, but he suddenly realised that he was bloody starving. He hadn't eaten anything in weeks, but then the guilt hit him. Gary was fucking force fed, so what right did he have to bloody be able to eat properly when the kid couldn't? And he knew the kid would never look at food again in the same way, because he'd said so himself.
Fucking hell.
He didn't know what to do. Why should he be alright if Gary wasn't? It wasn't fair. This whole fucking thing wasn't fair. Fuck, he needed to distract himself.
"Is that all?"
"Hmm." The Doctor looked up from where he had started to check everything was okay with him. "Well, there was some swelling on and in his head, and signs of concussion which we will need to keep a close eye on. And also the malnutrition - you've both lost a fair bit of weight." The man prodded his arm as if to demonstrate.
"Fuck."
Hadn't even thought about that, that's going to be a bitch to gain again in muscle. Bloody hell. Why the hell am i even worried about fucking muscle mass whilst he could fucking die anyway? What a fucking selfish git I am.
"It will be a while before he is mobile again, this will significantly impact his mental state also. You need to be prepared, this will not make him exactly pleasant at times, you should expect: mood swings, tantrums, anxiety and a lot of anger and frustration. All understandable, given the circumstances. Just be prepared and try not to lose it too badly - he'll probably be relying on you perpetually just to get through the day. This is often the case when two people are incarcerated for a long period of time together. "
"Yeah, I know."
Suddenly he found himself wondering whether it would have been better for them to both had died in there. The fight and constant pain was far from over, he was sure.
"I am sure you do. In any case, your vitals look good, still very dehydrated and some nasty marks but given time and plenty of replenishment, you'll be back to normal."
"Told you, can i go now?" He hoped the man would forget about him eating something, but he was doubtful he would.
"You need to eat first."
Damn.
"How about I shower and get cleaned up, then i eat in Gary's room?"
The other man looked at him doubtfully for a minute before sighing in defeat. He hoped that meant the man was willing to relent. After his previous train of thoughts, he really did not feel like eating right now.
"Fine. But i will be checking on the both of you regularly, so you'd better stick to your word Simon."
Yes! Wow. Bloody hell, I sound like a teenage girl whose exited to see whatever prissy boy singer is todays gimmick. Though, i think Gary's better than that Beaver bloke, and i have a good bloody reason too so they can shove it up theirs if any has something to say.
"Thank you." he finally settled on replying to the Doc after a few seconds of contemplation, whose name he still couldn't quite remember.
"You're welcome, just look after yourself, yeah? Don't want to see you in this bed again" he paused for a second then smirked "- you're a right pain in the ass."
At that he actually laughed, "Thanks mate."
"It's Jefferson, by the way."
Fuck, now he remembered - the doctor whom he had told to fuck off after he got shot a while back and claimed he was fine. Needless to say, a few hours later he passed out in the middle of the room. Oops.
"Heh. Sorry, forgot. You're snarkiness makes sense now though."
"Hilarious." He dead-panned. Though Simon could detect a small smile behind the man's sarcastic demeanour. "You are free to leave now, then."
"Thanks." He got up, albeit slowly, remembering what had happened last time he had tried to leave. He didn't want anything stopping him now. Luckily now the dizziness wasn't as bad and he could hide it. Walking again felt weird though. "Bye."
"Yes. Bye, for the moment."
XXX
He finally made it to his and Gary's shared quarters to grab his razor and some clean clothes. It took him longer than he'd admit to get there though, but at least he hadn't forgotten the way.
Grabbing the items from where he had last placed them, he quickly hurried to the shower room, hoping desperately that it was empty.
Hell, maybe i should have showered in the hospital wing, least i would've been guaranteed some privacy - they're terrified of me mostly.
But he couldn't be bothered going back the other way now, he wanted to feel clean. How the hell was Gary going to deal with showering with people around now? He found himself wondering.
You bloody idiot, the bloke can't even walk, i doubt he'll be showering properly for a while - poor sod. Someone will have to help the kid, that would be humiliating to any man. I mean I could help him, I wouldn't mind... What the fuck Simon!? What the hell is wrong with you, why the hell are you thinking about washing another man, for bloody sakes.
He sighed in frustration, what the hell was going on with him lately, he felt so conflicted. He was starting to wonder whether there was another reason why he wanted to look out for Gary so much.
Finally he made it to the showers, and to his utter relief they were empty too. He was shocked, it wasn't like him or his luck threshold to have things go his way. So he quickly locked the door behind him before anyone could come in, like MacTavish would tell him off anyway. Bloke would understand his need for privacy. Hell, all of them probably would.
He made his way over to the bench and mirror next to the showers, stripping his clothes off slowly - the fatigue and lethargy was starting to set in, but he chose to ignore that. For the first time in weeks he saw himself in the mirror, and what he saw was not what he expected. He looked tired and ragged - you could definitely tell he hadn't washed in a good while. He was filthy, from head to toe - it reminded him of a Christmas song that he remembered from years ago; something about being covered in soot after falling down a chimney. he hated Christmas. And, he felt like he had both these things done to his body - not that that was relevant he mused.
He could also see the difference in his frame - what was once completely solid and bulky, was now still mostly solid but there was definitely not the same level of bulk as before. He wouldn't say he looked entirely weedy, but he was still not what he was happy with himself at all. Then there was his face. God, he looked like he'd aged 20 years, and that was just his eyes. What were once bright and sharp where now dull and exhausted, surrounded by black bags that reminded him of a panda. A dead panda.
The beard didn't help any, that would definitely be the first thing he fixed, he hated it - reminded him of the filthy people he'd seen in his lifetime. If he didn't want to get this shit off him so badly he would have shaved before his shower - also, he hated shaving before having a shower. He stepped into the shower, and turned it on.
At first the water felt good, though a very drastic change to what his body had gotten use to. He felt that with every bit of dirt that was washed away, so was a bit of his tension and stress. He could feel the now brown water dripping off of him loudly, and he suddenly realised it reminded him of the water that dripping from the taps and Gary in that god forsaken bathroom.
Drip, drip, drip...
Suddenly it all started flashing before his eyes; them turning the tap on Gary, the terrified look in the poor kids eyes, them starting to electrocute him and Gary's blood curling screams of excruciating pain, his own screams of anger and bloody murder towards the fucking Russians.
Drip, drip, drip...
The sound of the water hitting the floor from the leaky tap whilst they continued this exercise and even when they'd finished... He could feel his chest tightening, and he suddenly felt himself hyperventilating. The images wouldn't get the fuck out of his head and he just wanted it to stop, he wanted the fear and guilt to stop, but it just wouldn't.
Drip, drip, drip...
He could hear the screams so clearly now, like they were in the same room again. He felt like he was back in that room and was being restrained again, he felt so helpless and so much like everything was out of control. He felt the chaos that went through his mind when he was actually there. But he knew he wasn't there any more, he wasn't. He kept trying to tell himself that. He wasn't there any more, they were safe - Gary was safe!
He abruptly realised that it was himself screaming - it was his own screams, not Gary's. The dripping sound wasn't from a leaky tap, it was from the powerful shower he was now sitting on the ground in. There was nothing there restraining him but his own mind and fears, and he didn't have to kill those men any more, because they were already dead. They were safe.
His breathing started to normalise as his thoughts were becoming more rational. He was in the shower back at base, Gary was also back at base. They weren't in that hell any more and it was all okay for now.
Gary is okay, Gary is okay...
He was starting to calm down now, he was starting to get control back in his body. He could move again and most importantly he could breathe.
"Holy shite."
He realised what had just happened: he'd had a fucking panic attack over a fucking shower. God, he'd never live this one down, he just hoped to hell that no one heard him screaming. He would hope to God, but Hell was the only thing he was sure really existed any more.
"Fuck!"
He so desperately wanted to get out of the shower now and go and see the kid, to put his bad thoughts to rest. But every single bit of his will power told him - forced him, to stay, or people would notice. He wasn't clean yet, he had to finish.
It was fucking difficult, but eventually he managed to get himself clean in that fucking shower without passing out. He didn't know how the hell he managed it, but somehow he did. Now all he had to do was get rid of the fucking beard and he could see Gary and it'd all be okay.
I sound bloody hysterical right now, not to mention obsessed over the kid, but I just need to see him. Besides, nothing in my mind is rational anyway. Not any more. One doesn't go through watching your best friend almost die and not worry about them, right? That's completely normal.
XXX
He was finally making his way back to infirmary after managing to get clean, he felt so much better despite the previous escapade, although he was fucking exhausted. Felt like he hadn't slept in years, not that he felt he'd have much success if he tried.
His face felt normal and not so itchy any more, and his clothes didn't smell like they had become a makeshift latrine. He hated how they were just that bit looser on him now though, so he wore a jumper to hide his self consciousness. Not that it was cold at all, but after being in that glacier he had been stuck in, the extra heat felt magnificent which was another bonus to hiding himself.
He was anxious to see Gary for himself, with his injuries. Last he had seen the Sergeant, it had all been a big blur, and after hearing what was wrong with the man medically, he was kind of unsure what he would find.
What he did find when he walked through those daunting metal double doors, however, was worse than even he was expecting. Gary was pale - really pale. Not that you could see much of his skin, there were tubes, wires and bandages everywhere; he really was a mess. The worst part was, he knew how every single wound was inflicted, and every time he saw the area of his body, he couldn't get the images of watching it out of his head. He almost couldn't bear it, but he couldn't leave him and the fear of leaving him out weighed the guilt and memories from looking at him.
He grabbed a shitty plastic chair from against the wall and moved it next to the Sergeant and hesitantly sat down. Looking back at the younger man, he suddenly didn't know what to do. Was he supposed to talk to the kid, or just sit there? When would he wake up? Would he want him there when he woke up? Would he panic? So many thoughts were going through his mind and he couldn't help but feel stress and panic wash over himself. He rubbed his calloused hands over his face in exhaustion.
"Fuck, Simon calm the fuck down." he muttered to himself.
He really did need to, for Gary's sake.
Sighing for what felt like the millionth time, not knowing what else to do, he grabbed Gary's hand loosely and held it in his own. He hoped dearly that no one would walk in on this, but he was at a loss of what to do, and it somehow just seemed right. That didn't make him weird, right?
Besides, they'd been forced to do more intimate things to survive anyway, this was nothing.
Looking at the kids face, he just felt awful. He was barely recognisable - he was gaunt looking and pale, and he looked more like a dead panda than he did he smirked to himself. He had some nasty looking what would soon be scars too, he hoped the kid could deal with that. The constant reminder. No, Gary would. He would make sure the kid got through it even if it killed him in the process.
"I'm sorry mate." he mumbled quietly.
He vaguely wondered where the doctor was, he said he'd be here soon enough, and he hadn't eaten yet which he was bound to get in more trouble for. Though, he suspected Jeff knew that he needed some time alone with Gary to put his mind at ease. Maybe the old fart wasn't as bad as he thought.
Who knows?
A lot of thoughts were running through his mind, and he soon found himself starting to fall asleep in the chair. The sleep was definitely welcome.
Lucky for him, his sleep consisted of very strange things like men in dresses and strange people doing strange things, much like what happened in your dreams after taking medication or whilst being pumped with some kind of painkiller. He assumed that they must have given him something when he'd been asleep previously. He wasn't sure if he was thankful or annoyed that no one told him or asked his permission.
But he was abruptly shaken awake by a sudden, harsh movement next to him.
Gary!
He shot up to see what was happening, but he wasn't expecting to see the absolute fear and agony in the young Sergeants face. His dark brown eyes were wide - almost wild looking. His breathing was erratic and uneven - very similar to how his had been earlier that day in the shower, and he was thrashing. Though his movements were sluggish and slow, he could tell the other man felt restrained and unsure of where he was. He soon realised that the kid was panicking about something. He didn't blame him, but he needed to calm down before he hurt himself more.
"Gary! Mate calm down, it's me, calm down!"
But that didn't work, he didn't even seem to recognise his voice - it just made him panic more.
"Please, mate - listen!"
he tried again, trying to sound calm with each attempt, but he wasn't. Not at all, he was terrified of not knowing what to do. Gary just started trying to say something, but he couldn't because of the burns to his throat.
He tried to touch him to get his attention so he could make the kid recognise him, but he wasn't expecting the reaction he got.
"No, No!" Gary barely made out through the pain, hissing and jerking away from his hand. "Don't touch me!"
That shocked him.
It barely sounded like those words because they were rasped and slurred, but Simon knew, he just knew that it was what the kid had said, sadly. Honestly, it hurt. Gary was afraid of him. That made him wonder, of the very few times they had been separated, what had those bastards done to him?
He had no idea what to do, the machines around him were beeping furiously, and he could hear several alarms going off. Fucked if he knew what it was, all he knew was it wasn't good at all. He needed to do something, yet again he was useless.
"Gary!" he kept trying but nothing was working, he only seemed to exacerbate the man's fear until he started screaming. That certainly wasn't good.
Suddenly the heavy doors burst open, and several medical personnel came rushing in, in a hurry. They looked at him and asked what happened before hurrying to try and sort out the distraught young man.
"He just woke up and started panicking, I don't know what happened - he doesn't recognise any thing and he's terrified." he replied, giving his "professional" opinion.
"Highly likely."
One of them replied, "We'll have to sedate him, give him something that will keep him calm."
He went and grabbed something, pouring it into a syringe and came back over, ready to sedate Gary.
"You'll need to move, please." He honestly couldn't even tell if the bloke was an arse of he was just trying to control the situation. But he didn't want to move, though somehow he felt it wouldn't look to good if he didn't. After a few seconds, he hesitantly relented and moved further back into the room, watching them closely for any signs of malpractice. He really didn't trust anyone any more, especially not with his Gary.
Fuckkkkkk! There i go with the fucking "my Gary" again, bloody imbecile, what they hell is wrong with me?
He groaned at himself for being such an idiot, he was so sick of this. He was sick of his thoughts, he was sick of being useless and he was sick of this lack of fucking control. He just wanted to scream and throw things again, it seemed like the only thing that could help. Remembering his promise to the Doc though, he instead chose to just sit down and avoid making a scene.
Fuck!
After a few seconds, the thrashing and the screams finally began to subside, leaving a panting and sweaty looking Gary. Whatever they had given him certainly worked. Within a few more seconds, Sanderson was unconscious again, leaving only silence in the echoey white room. The only vestige of the previous cacophony being the desperate pleas Gary had made for him to not touch him ringing and replaying over and over in his ears.
What a mess.
There It is! I do hope it was okay and you still come back for more! because there will be plenty more...