Room 507, Thursday afternoon into evening
Jan. 4th, 2007 03:15 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
nadiathesaintIt wasn't until Nadia got back up to her room after talking with M and then with Marty that she began to feel the effects of having been up all night.
She shut the door, and suddenly it was as if her body weighed a thousand kilograms. She stumbled over to her bed and flopped over on top of it, falling asleep in moments.
And beginning to dream almost as fast.
It started the same way the last one had, flashing back to that hellish time on the boat with the drug dealers over Thanksgiving. She lay in cold darkness, unable to move and barely able to think, while horrible things happened around her.
This time, it wasn't just hints of those horrible things.
This time, as the dream progressed, she got to see them.
Dr. Wilson, who'd been so kind to her when she was lying on that bed in the clinic, turning to face someone in an alley, his face etched with concern.
Reaching out to catch someone.
A jarring, slicing pain through the hand, glinting metal falling through thick, red blood.
Glinting metal slicing through Dr. Wilson's stomach.
A cry of denial, though she couldn't know whose it was, her own, the doctor's, or someone else's entirely. Or all three, at once, in one breath and one voice.
A sickening crack of skull against brick.
Falling.
Another cry of denial, this one definitely her own as she struggled to wake up, struggled to run forward and rewind what she was seeing, keep Dr. Wilson from facing whatever this was, seeing it all again in reverse, but, still, not even a glimpse of who was behind it all, just flames, lighting the walls and making dancing shadows for an instant, and then it was done, and Nadia sat up, gasping.
Furrball ran for cover.
Nadia shot him a hurried apology as she yanked her coat on and ran for the door. No telling when it would happen. No time frame at all, but she knew that it was one of those dreams and that she had to find Wilson. She'd check the clinic, first, she couldn't remember if he'd be on shift, but if he wasn't there, she could check his apartment. Find him, or find Aziraphale who would be able to help her make sense of it all and then they'd save Wilson and everything, for once, would be all right.
She just had to find him, first.
[ooc: not open for interaction. Permission for dreaming was received from all concerned parties.]
She shut the door, and suddenly it was as if her body weighed a thousand kilograms. She stumbled over to her bed and flopped over on top of it, falling asleep in moments.
And beginning to dream almost as fast.
It started the same way the last one had, flashing back to that hellish time on the boat with the drug dealers over Thanksgiving. She lay in cold darkness, unable to move and barely able to think, while horrible things happened around her.
This time, it wasn't just hints of those horrible things.
This time, as the dream progressed, she got to see them.
Dr. Wilson, who'd been so kind to her when she was lying on that bed in the clinic, turning to face someone in an alley, his face etched with concern.
Reaching out to catch someone.
A jarring, slicing pain through the hand, glinting metal falling through thick, red blood.
Glinting metal slicing through Dr. Wilson's stomach.
A cry of denial, though she couldn't know whose it was, her own, the doctor's, or someone else's entirely. Or all three, at once, in one breath and one voice.
A sickening crack of skull against brick.
Falling.
Another cry of denial, this one definitely her own as she struggled to wake up, struggled to run forward and rewind what she was seeing, keep Dr. Wilson from facing whatever this was, seeing it all again in reverse, but, still, not even a glimpse of who was behind it all, just flames, lighting the walls and making dancing shadows for an instant, and then it was done, and Nadia sat up, gasping.
Furrball ran for cover.
Nadia shot him a hurried apology as she yanked her coat on and ran for the door. No telling when it would happen. No time frame at all, but she knew that it was one of those dreams and that she had to find Wilson. She'd check the clinic, first, she couldn't remember if he'd be on shift, but if he wasn't there, she could check his apartment. Find him, or find Aziraphale who would be able to help her make sense of it all and then they'd save Wilson and everything, for once, would be all right.
She just had to find him, first.
[ooc: not open for interaction. Permission for dreaming was received from all concerned parties.]
