đ - For Jeremy to wake Patch up
Cold was what he felt; was the red flag in his mind that something wasnât right. Most of his dreams were simply memories, often of labs and tests, though occasionally newer experiences would creep their way in. This time was the lab, and as he stood in his booth, hooked up for whatever the tests were of the day, he felt the odd, chilling wrongness in his limbs: so strange that he didnât even notice it at first until he felt the need to flex his hand and realized it wouldnât move. His eyes flicked open, but he couldnât move his head to look down, his stare fixed out towards the suddenly empty room, and the cold kept creeping up. He tried to lift his arm next, to move it into his view, if he couldnât move his view to his arm, but this didnât seem to work either. If anything, his limbs felt even heavier, and he wondered if something had gone wrong, as the cold kept creeping up.
He was trying again and again to open his mouth, to call and shout for someone to come back to the lab, to fix whatever was happening, as he felt the cold creeping into his torso. It needled towards his thirium pump from below as the cold of his arms began needling up his throat like icy daggers, even as he knew he shouldnât be feeling anything like this pain and fear, and- It was then that something dragged his awareness up and out as his eyes slammed open. It took a few moments, to realize he was awake, and a few more moments for a shuddering breath to be drawn that allowed him to relax enough to move. First his hands, then lifting his arms up to look, to make sure he was moving, and then he put a hand to his chest, remembering the needling cold that had been so close. He still felt cold, but it was different now, and there was something like warmth starting to spread back out as relief. Patch turned to Jeremy, pausing for a moment as if to remember how to speak, or if he was going to be able to, before he attempted to give the child a tired smile. âIâm sorry, was I bothering you?â
