Room 101 [Closed to Gene]

[southphillyboy]

after thisHe'd been doing well, so damn well. It had been weeks since he'd had one of those dreams - nightmares really. Weeks since he'd seen the camps, those hollow sunken cheeks and those eyes - it was the eyes that got him. The way they'd barely looked human, some of them

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[traiteur]

Gene comes to quickly, groggy from the sleep that clings to him as he wakes.

Babe is thrashing next to him, yelling, almost attacking him from the dream, and his first reaction is to catch his wrists, hold him steady. Christ, this was a bad one.

[southphillyboy]

That pressure made him react, thrashing at first before it started to rouse him. To sink into his subconscious that it's real, and that everything else up to that point hadn't been. It doesn't mean that he wakes immediately, still half-lost in his dream. At least he's settled some; shaking and letting out a cry - a low keening sound - wanting it all to stop.

[traiteur]

Gene holds his wrists still, loose enough not to hurt him but not exactly gently. "Babe. Babe, cher. Wake up, c'mon." His voice is low, insistent.

[southphillyboy]

Babe, c'mon, cher

The words floated in and out of his consciousness, pulling him from the last vestige of sleep with a start. Babe jolted, body tensing as his eyes opened. Gene. He was there. "It's not- We're still here."