Runaways prelude

I remember the coldness suddenly disappearing, and being carried easily by large arms. It hurt incredibly, being moved around like that, but I could't say it was intentional. Much later, voices - strange ones, mind you - all around me. Then being released on a soft surface, then sheets. The pain wasn't gone yet. Hands and bandages, various substances that made my skin burn more for a bit, the occasional pinch of a needle. The pain subsided with time.

And the bed was practically everything for the next few days... weeks... months maybe. Who knew? Time was agonizingly slow without having much to do but breathing. Oh, but there were also a few conversations, to which I couldn't reply. It was always the same voice, that rough, deep, but strangely soft voice, which sounded oddly familiar. Once in a while it would visit me, making my comatose days more interesting.

Then one day, after a long time of silence and utter boredom, I saw some light. After so much darkness, it was blinding, even if it still seemed far off. It was slowly, very slowly drawing closer. At first, I thought it was death. Or afterlife. Or purgatory, I don't know. But I certainly didn't think it was what it really was.

And that was how I opened my eyes to a gray brick room.