( No Title )
Hal was aware that he was still alive, but that was close to all he was aware of. There was pain, somewhere. In his body, probably, he was pretty sure. But it felt distant, and unimportant.
He tried to assess what did feel important, but it slipped away like a fish between his hands.
Focus. Focus.
He was sitting somewhere. Sitting up.
Tried to move his arms. Couldn’t. Met resistance.
Bound? Strapped in.
He was strapped into a chair– he was in pain– he couldn’t think straight.
A red gloved hand brushed against his cheek.
“Morning, stranger,” purred Revolver Ocelot.
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Written for @febuwhump day 12 prompt: Semi conscious
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