AN: Oh god, I am so sorry everyone. I've been doing so much stuff lately I just kept putting this off more and more. Well, Christams break is almost here, and I still have lots of stuff going on. So here, It's short but I hope it'll tied you all over for a little while anyway.
Everything hurt. Everything from his head down to the stubs where the bottom of his legs used to be. The pain was probably the only reason why he was sure he was alive.
He couldn't lift his arms, like they were weighted down or something. His eyes lids felt the same way. He could hear, sort of. There was definite sort of conversation going on above him, but if you asked him to tell you what it was about, Fredy wouldn't be able to say.
He tried as hard as he could to open his eyes. Light flooded his eyes and he had to shut them again, but he made a deep, moan.
"Fredy!"
That was the first voice he heard, really heard. Sara's voice, he was sure it was Sara's voice. He made another attempt at pulling his eyes lids apart. It worked and he kept his eyes opened this time.
"Fredy," Sara said again, but while she said his name the first time with shock and almost fear, she now said his name with pure relief. Slowly the room came into focus and with it Sara's face, mere feet from his own. He was in a brightly lit hospital room, he could smell it now to. That sickly clean smell that all hospital's seemed to have. He had gotten enough of that smell to last a lifetime.
Fredy tried to unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth. He couldn't do it. He looked at Sara with pleading eyes and she smiled sadly at him.
Then Fredy realized that there was no one else in the room, just Sara. Not that he truly minded, but it seemed a little eerie, almost frightening, sort of an ominous sign of something horrible. He also wondered who she was speaking to. He was sure he had heard her speaking to someone, but he couldn't figure out who.
Suddenly it was like someone poured ice water into his veins. He knew his eyes must have gotten as big a dinner plates. He wrenched his mouth open but all that came out was a soft gargling sound.
But Sara seemed to understand. She placed a hand on his shoulder but even the warmth of her touch couldn't heat the ice under his skin.
He remembered the shouting and the name calling.
He remembered the hateful faces also.
He remembered holding on to Jeffrey's hand and squeezing it.
He remembered the fear.
And then he remembered the shots and the pain.
And seeing Jeffrey before he passed out.
Then Fredy realized what must have happened. He pulled his stubborn mouth open again and made another attempt at speech.
"Jeffrey," he said. It was only word his could form, the only word he cared about then. He saw Sara's sad eyes and he knew, he knew even before she spoke.
"Fredy, I'm sorry," she said softly. He saw a tear run down her cheek.
All Sara's other words fell off into oblivion, and Fredy didn't hear them. No matter what she said he knew, and he didn't need to hear the words to know.