She had to get to him.
Waking him up would be imperative. The world was depending on her to make himsee, for the disease she inflicted upon it would leave nothing alive in its path.
She was carnage.
Rhythmictappingandtheworst humming he’d ever heard filtered through his mind. His head pounded and the light pouring in made his eyes sting. They felt like they’d been burned from the inside out.
Come to think of it, they probably fucking had.
It was rare he recalled anything from the electroshock therapy sessions, but this time they came flooding back.
Dr. Kore and her sadistic need to see him suffer. He had a feeling that he was her favorite patient, but he would never understand why.
He tried to be a model patient in the beginning. He thought if maybe he didn’t cause trouble, she wouldn’t look his way after initial treatment.
He had never been so godsdamned wrong.
Brooks tested his body one limb at a time. When he decided they were all still attached, he tried to open his eyes. It was hard at first, but it wasn’t long before he was blinking against the light.
He raised his hand to shade the light, but paused when he glanced through the window and realized night had fallen. The electroshock must have been extra harsh if his eyes were sensitive to the dim light of the moon.
“I think you pissed yourself.”
Brooks jumped and immediately regretted the sudden movement. The instant burst of nausea accompanied with vertigo and immense pain left him stunned.
“Fuck that hurts.”
“Take it easy, big guy. I think they almost killed you.”
He wiped his eyes and attempted to open them again as he moved wearily into a sitting position. When his foggy vision cleared, he found Lytta sitting on the bed next to his. He cringed when he noticed burn marks on her temples with the same bruising he knew matched his own.
“You, too, huh?”
“That’s what happens when you talk to people who aren’t there.”
Brooks could empathize.
“Are you okay?” Brooks asked.
Her brows furrowed and she took her time before she answered hesitantly, “Why do you care?”
“Forget I asked,” he scoffed.
“I just mean, you hardly know me. We talked one time on the roof and it looks like you’ve got your own demons to fight.”
He let her response sink in. He was too tired to lie or be sarcastic.
“I don’t know why I care.”
“You feel it too.” Not a question, a statement.
“Feel what?” He answered wearily.
“The connection between us.”
“Oh. Uh, well, I’m not really looking for anything, and I had kind of a rough night so–”
A pillow smacked him in the face and nearly ended him right there.
