I used to never write fanfiction, but a friend of mine who does convinced me to try. This is my first decent effort, and I hope you all like it. Let me know what you think. I'd appreciate no flames, but constructive criticism is welcome. It's just a short little introspective type piece from John's POV. Enjoy :) Jessy
"Awakening"
I awoke in a cold sweat, nausea washing over me with intensifying force. Quickly, I seized the pail next to my bed and rolled over, emptying my guts into it, everything inside of me burning. The past week had been a particularly harsh for me physically (though in dying, how could it get worse?), though I suspected that within a few days it would start to ease back, and for a little while it wouldn't be as bad. Then I would go back to being worse, and the cycle would continue. As it had been for so long, so it would continue to be.
After I had finished puking into the bucket, I slowly sat up to go empty the mess into the toilet. Cautiously, I stood, and took a step forward. I felt immensely weak, but not so weak that I couldn't walk. My quarters in this place were relatively small, so I didn't need to go far anyway. I had given up on my apartment in favor for this factory where I could work undisturbed, researching and creating to continue my mission.
I moved into the bathroom, dumping the contents of the bucket into the toilet and flushing it down, rinsing the bucket out in the sink. I was now wide awake, and had no desire to return to my bed even to rest, so I moved into my work area, wrapping my robe around me tightly.
As I moved down the hallway towards the elevator, I paused to glance down at the couch where Zep was sleeping. Whenever I had rough periods like this where I might have greater difficulty in simple tasks, Zep usually stayed with me. He'd all in all proved himself to be a most loyal assistant, someone I could actually trust. He'd been there when I had first been given the news that I was dying, and in my time at the hospital had been the closest thing to a friend I'd had. He had been the one to come to me to talk, to voice his own frustrations about the doctors at the hospital, but his company was not unpleasant. I suppose that I had become the closest thing to a friend he had.
When I had started working on my mission, I knew that with my weakening condition I would likely need someone to assist me with the more physical aspects. I'd found the perfect assistant in Zep. I knew that there was some admiration for me on his part, and that made him very trustworthy and eager to assist me. There was also his weakness, which while I didn't intentionally use to my advantage, I inevitably found myself doing so. I had become aware of it early on in my first week at the hospital. I observed how easily he was pushed around with no resistance whatsoever save for a nasty glance while the person's back was turned. That and nothing more. There was also an almost painful shyness and social awkwardness to him, something the just barely disappeared when he was with me. He lived alone, was always alone. Until he met me.
I saw so much within him, and I suspected I knew his character and his capabilities better than he even knew himself. Enlisting his help for my mission had been the first step. He would follow my instructions perfectly, helping me set up each pupil in their personalized classroom. He'd also helped me with medical aspects, helping me to acquire any medical equipment and medicine I might need, as well as helping to take care of me when I was especially weak.
I moved quietly over to him, where he lay curled up facing into the back of the couch. I leaned over, listening to his breathing. I reached down and rested a hand gently on his shoulder, though he did not stir. It seemed he'd lived most of his life sleeping, and now I had plans for him to wake him up. There were qualities I wanted to see come forward, and I knew that with the right stimulation, they would.
I removed my hand and stood up straight, then turned and walked towards the elevator.