Disclaimer: I own none of the recognized characters. I am merely borrowing them to satisfy my muse
Chapter 12
Pain. A dull ache and then a sharp stab. Alternating in her head and body. Head would ache, body would stab. Head would stab, body would ache. Repeating the cycle with each breath. With every beat of her heart. CJ groaned. At least she knew she wasn't dead. No way being dead would hurt this much. She was on something soft. What was she on? Where was she? What happened with the dragon?
CJ tried moving, but discovered her body felt like lead. Even lifting her hand proved to be too much of a challenge. Groaning again, this time more in frustration than in pain, CJ focused on trying to move her toes. Start small and then work her way up to something big, like opening her eyes.
She didn't know how long she laid there, just willing her toes to move. Slowly, ever so slowly, they wiggled. All right, toes still worked. What about fingers?
This was harder, and more painful. Each twitch sent a new wave of pain coursing up her arms, her left one more so than the right. Why did that one hurt so much more? Oh, dragon tooth. That's right. She hoped someone had saved that tooth. She would want that.
Fingers moved. Hands closing into fists before opening again.
Now for the eyes.
It felt like her eyelids had been melted shut, not wanting to open. But CJ managed.
She was in a room. Her room, actually. Back in Skyhold. How long had she been unconscious? Slowly, she forced herself into a sitting position. Pain rose and fell in waves, but none of it so sharp as to stop her from moving. There was a pitcher on the desk across the room. Suddenly she was very thirsty. Needed a drink desperately. She eyed the distance. It was only ten feet. Twelve tops. She could make it. Couldn't she?
Turns out, she couldn't. Three steps away from her bed, and her legs gave out, sending her to the floor.
"Damn it." She bit out as that caused more pain. But she still wanted a drink. She had two options. Crawl the remaining distance, or force herself up and try again.
CJ discarded the idea of crawling almost immediately. She would not risk someone walking in and seeing her crawling across the floor because she was too weak to stand.
Through sheer determination, and a whole lot of stubbornness, CJ made it to her desk, sinking into the chair with a sigh of relief. Legs, though very shaky, seemed to be on the whole unhurt. Good. Sliding the pitcher closer, CJ saw that it was full. And it still felt cool. Someone must have brought it recently. With a lot of difficulty, her arms and hands not wanting to cooperate, CJ managed to pour herself a glass. Part of her had been tempted to just drink from the pitcher, but with the shaking of her arms, it would have ended up with her half-drenched.
Thirst slaked, exhaustion swept over her again. Tiredly, she looked back at her bed. Sure, it was softer and more comfortable than the chair, but it was also twelve feet away. CJ wasn't sure she could make it back. Deciding it wasn't worth the effort, CJ crossed her arms and laid her head down on the desk. The wood was cool beneath her cheek. Was she running a fever?
That was CJ's last thought before falling back asleep.
Someone touching her shoulder woke CJ up. She blearily opened her eyes.
"I was gone for fifteen minutes. Tops." That was Iron Bull. "And in that time, despite not moving for a week, you managed to make it to your desk?"
"Was thirsty." She mumbled, laying her head back down.
"And now?"
"'m tired."
"So why not sleep on your bed?"
"Far 'way." Her eyes slid closed. She was close to falling back asleep.
Iron Bull laughed softly. "Fighter, you can't sleep there."
"Can too." She retorted.
"Can not." He exclaimed. CJ ignored him. She was barely awake when she felt her chair move, and strong arms were picking her up gently. She was too tired to fight him as Iron Bull lifted her into his arms, supporting her back with one arm and the other under her knees. Instead she just turned her head until it was leaning against his shoulder.
"Warm." She mumbled.
"Go to sleep, CJ." His voice rumbled against her. "We can talk when you wake up."
CJ was not strong enough, nor did she have any real desire, to fight sleep, so she gave in.
