Author's notes: A big thank you to those who reviewed and followed and made it a favourite. I really appreciate your support. I hope you enjoy this chapter. Poor Jane wakes up.
Exactly how many sensations and how much information the human mind can recognise in a single second, Patrick Jane's probably able to tell you and his quick mind can compute more than most, when it's clear and sharp, but, when it's dulled by a heavy dose of drugs there's only one that pierces through the fog and that's pain. He squeezes he eyes tight against it but it penetrates and assaults his nerve endings. He wills himself to return to the mindless state he's just beginning to awaken from and, for now, he's successful.
His watcher sees the agony cross his face, before his muscles relax and he's back to sleep. He laughs out loud.
"Hide Patrick Jane, your relief is only for a small moment, the drugs won't help you soon."
Jane hears a noise, this time, as consciousness gains a greater hold on him, it sounds as if someone's in trouble, in that split moment he realises that it was him, as the pain makes its presence known fiercely this time. His barely conscious thought is that maybe moving will help as he's feeling uncomfortable, his eyes pop open when he can't move his arms.
Pain in his head hits him like a thundering train and he closes his eyes against it and groans. He head feels like it might explode and he suddenly realises he's going to be sick, he tries to move but it's impossible to do it quickly and he only has time to move his head to the side before his stomach releases its contents. It feels like all his strength left with it and he turns his head back and weakly moves it, as much as he can, away from the disgusting smell.
For his watcher it's more than he dared hope for.
"Defaced your living space already Mr. Jane."
It hasn't made his head feel any better, and now he's in need of a drink to clear his mouth. There's something on his face, it's dry and sticky. When he attempts to use his hands to help he's reminded that they're immobile. This time he opens his eyes more slowly. Thick darkness surrounds him, he can't even see his recent work, though there's no doubting it's still there. He knows he's not where he expected to be. He's beginning to work past his headache by concentrating on his hands and arms. They're restrained behind his back but they're not clasped together. He twists his hands downwards and until they grab something. It feels like a steel bar. Whoever has him (it's obvious to him now that he's held captive) they've thought things through. With his hands separated, there's no chance of him picking any locks. Not good news for him. His feet are also held apart so he suspects another bar. He finally makes another startling discovery, he's naked. He attempts to twist his body to sit up and get a better look but pain shoots like a knife through his chest, his ribs hurt. He's unable to stop himself banging his head on the floor as he reacts to the pain. He's exhausted now and oblivion claims him once more.
His Watcher's very satisfied, he leaves to get a bottle out of the fridge.
When Jane awakens the third time, the drug is completely out of his system, taking with it the pounding headache, now Jane's more aware of the pain in his face and his ribs when he moves. A stench assaults his nose and recollections of throwing up vaguely stir in a foggy memory. He opens his eyes slowly and he realises it must be morning. Narrow streaks of light illuminate his prison, it's dimly lit, but he can now make out objects around him. The ceiling above him tells him instantly that he's in a cabin as logs of wood stare down at him. He rotates his head to the side and finds there's not much to see. There's a fridge, a sink and a counter in the corner, underneath a boarded up window. To the right of him is a wooden straight back chair and almost level with his eye line is the culprit of the obnoxious smell, insects are crawling over it and Jane has to close his eyes and swallow hard to fight against the gag reflex overwhelming him. He turns his head to the left to find only a table under another boarded window and a foot away from the window, a heavy metal door. Not much to play with. He looks back at the roof and tries to think but the smell invades his senses. He needs to move further away. He studies his options, with the way he's situated the easiest way would have him turning into the offending substance. He's going to have to turn himself the other way. He's already partly on his back, so it's not hard to finish rolling all the way and is soon laying as flat on his back as he can manage with his arms underneath him. He studies his options once more and decides the quickest way will be to pull himself to a sitting position from where he is now. He just hope his stomach muscles are up to it.
As he lifts his head,and strains to rise the rest of his body, a pain shoots through his chest and he collapses to the floor. He closes his eyes against the pain and takes deep breaths through his mouth. His ribs must be damaged. Once the pain's subsided he looks at his options again, the only thing he can do is shuffle his way across the floor. He discarded that option earlier as the floor's made of rough wooden planks, not ideal for scraping a bare body across. He bends his knees and is surprised when he feels a pull. He attempts to move his feet closer to him but they won't budge, the sound tells him he's attached to a chain. He wonders how long it is. He twist as far as he can until he can't bear the pain and can just see an iron ring, he flops back and despair rushes over him. Not very far, whoever has him means business. The chains, the bars the lack of clothes and the pain, tell him that whoever has him means him harm. He's under no illusion that he's not meant to leave this place alive. Without realising he turns his head and sees the insects crawling all over his mess. He turns quickly away, adrenalin takes over, and using his arms, feet and instinct,he lifts his body and moves to the left, he screams with pain, anger and despair, as he bounces himself as far away as he can.
The watcher howls with laughter.