"And even in our sleep pain that cannot forget falls drop by drop upon the heart,"-Aeschylus
Mickey had the pattern of the ceiling memorised. He'd been staring at it through gritty, sleep deprived eyes for hours, listening to the muffled roars of passing cars, trying desperately not to close his eyes, because once he did, once he surrendered to sleep; that's when it would all come back.
The warehouse, the blow to the head, the table, the ropes, the words...those words that would not stop circling his mind-
He swallowed down the panic in his chest, the bitter taste of bile strong in his throat as he struggled not to remember the rest. Mickey screwed his eyes up tight against the tears he could feel burning, only to snap them open again as his mind's eye conjured up the laughing face that haunted him.
Vision blurred he scrambled for the pills on the night stand that the hospital had given him. He gulped them down without water, too desperate for relief from the burning pain.
It had been four days.
Three since he'd broken down in Jack's arms.
One, since he'd recounted what that animal had done to him.
He lay back down with a weighted sigh.
Everywhere hurt.
The nurse had assured him that the medication would ease the pain.
As the shame and disgust burned heavy in his heart, mental agony far more crippling than any physical hurt Delaney had inflicted upon him, Mickey accepted what he'd always known from the moment she'd refused to make eye contact with him.
The nurse had lied.
There was nothing that would ease this pain.