Slowly he seemed to be floating to the surface of what felt like quicksand. It was both frustrating and freeing for the simple reason that he wanted to move faster; he was never good with having patience and this was no exception.
Finally he started hearing the distant electronic beeping sound that echoed the rhythm of his heart and then he could feel and sense his surroundings, followed by the burning scent of disinfectants and other cleaning products and then slowly, as with everything else lately, he could start moving things like his fingers.
He could feel the rough fabric of the hospital throw under his fingertips and the light burning on his closed eyelids. Then he slowly tried to open his eyes, that took more effort than twitching his fingers and toes, for some reason.
Chase was
