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Right now, lying in this hospital bed, Joel has no idea how he feels.
He suspects, in a disconnected way, that's at least partly due to the painkillers and sedation the doctors had been forced to give him when he'd desperately fought them. Everything had still felt so wrong. Everything. He had been hurt and Spencer had been hurt. Even Coop had been hurt. He doesn't know what state Les and Nerium are in, he can't remember. They had put him on the stretcher and he'd seen Spencer on another bed and everything inside him had screamed against letting himself be separated from Spencer again.
They'd sedated him. Strapped him down. The restraints are gone now, but he can still feel the sedation moving through him, all his thoughts and movements sluggish as a result. He's knocked over his water cup twice now and he's staring down at the floor where the water is pooling and he's thinking about calling a nurse, but before he can lift his good hand to the buzzer, she's there.
"Joel, you can call me if you need anything," she reminds him and he nods.
"I need to see Spencer," he says and it sounds like his words are coming from far away. He thinks maybe he should panic because if his words aren't coming from him maybe the demon is still here. Maybe they didn't win, maybe they only postponed the inevitable.
But there's no panic. And he knows that isn't true. For the first time since he was seventeen-years-old, he's alone in here. He's sure that once he's no longer drugged, it will feel fantastic.
"I know," she says when she's on her feet again and Joel can't remember her name, but he knows she's been very kind to him since he woke up. She's a witch, he knows that somehow and he doesn't know if she told him or if he saw her do something or if everyone knows, but he knows. She understands what he's been through. "Soon, I promise. The doctor just wants to make sure he's okay. He's taken far too many knocks to the head lately."
"I know," he whispers, dropping his head. He knows. It's his fault.
When he looks up again the nurse is gone and Joel wonders if he fell asleep. Spencer still isn't here, so he starts to take stock of his injuries. His left hand is in a cast, the burned portion of his fingers covered in a salve. Luckily the burn hadn't been too bad. He remembers a doctor saying that.
One of his ribs is broken and it hurts when he breathes, but he's not wrapped or bound in any way. He thinks he remembers one of the doctors saying that it was dangerous, it can lead to complications with his lungs, but everything is a bit of a blur.
There are stitches in his forehead just below his hairline and there's a small bandage on his cheek where he'd been cut by glass. Somehow he feels like there should be more. Everything hurts, but there should be more than this. He deserves more than this.
The first few tears splatter on his cast before Joel even realizes he's crying.
He suspects, in a disconnected way, that's at least partly due to the painkillers and sedation the doctors had been forced to give him when he'd desperately fought them. Everything had still felt so wrong. Everything. He had been hurt and Spencer had been hurt. Even Coop had been hurt. He doesn't know what state Les and Nerium are in, he can't remember. They had put him on the stretcher and he'd seen Spencer on another bed and everything inside him had screamed against letting himself be separated from Spencer again.
They'd sedated him. Strapped him down. The restraints are gone now, but he can still feel the sedation moving through him, all his thoughts and movements sluggish as a result. He's knocked over his water cup twice now and he's staring down at the floor where the water is pooling and he's thinking about calling a nurse, but before he can lift his good hand to the buzzer, she's there.
"Joel, you can call me if you need anything," she reminds him and he nods.
"I need to see Spencer," he says and it sounds like his words are coming from far away. He thinks maybe he should panic because if his words aren't coming from him maybe the demon is still here. Maybe they didn't win, maybe they only postponed the inevitable.
But there's no panic. And he knows that isn't true. For the first time since he was seventeen-years-old, he's alone in here. He's sure that once he's no longer drugged, it will feel fantastic.
"I know," she says when she's on her feet again and Joel can't remember her name, but he knows she's been very kind to him since he woke up. She's a witch, he knows that somehow and he doesn't know if she told him or if he saw her do something or if everyone knows, but he knows. She understands what he's been through. "Soon, I promise. The doctor just wants to make sure he's okay. He's taken far too many knocks to the head lately."
"I know," he whispers, dropping his head. He knows. It's his fault.
When he looks up again the nurse is gone and Joel wonders if he fell asleep. Spencer still isn't here, so he starts to take stock of his injuries. His left hand is in a cast, the burned portion of his fingers covered in a salve. Luckily the burn hadn't been too bad. He remembers a doctor saying that.
One of his ribs is broken and it hurts when he breathes, but he's not wrapped or bound in any way. He thinks he remembers one of the doctors saying that it was dangerous, it can lead to complications with his lungs, but everything is a bit of a blur.
There are stitches in his forehead just below his hairline and there's a small bandage on his cheek where he'd been cut by glass. Somehow he feels like there should be more. Everything hurts, but there should be more than this. He deserves more than this.
The first few tears splatter on his cast before Joel even realizes he's crying.
