So, continuing with the journey @healing-winston-pratt and I have decided to take to rise Winston and Callum from the death, here’s another fic, and this time is about Winston :) This one is a full collaboration, meaning we both wrote this, so we hope you enjoy it XD
Part 2 will be uploaded by her soon.
You can fin the canon divergence explanation here.
THERE’S MILD SELF HARM MENTIONS IN HERE
When Winston woke up, all he could see were the lights. Blindingly bright lights. And he stared at the ceiling for a while, because he didn’t know what else to do besides waiting until the rest of his senses responded to him.
His gaze remained fixated on those lights; later, he began to smell; and his surroundings were penetrated with a latex odor, combined with chlorine and something putrid… in the sense that everything smelled like blood and wounds. That is, in case wounds had a characteristic smell to them. To Winston’s view, they did. Everything had a smell, just like everything could be related with a specific color.
But that was just him, maybe.
Then he started to hear. And he heard the worried, hesitant chattering all around him. People screaming orders, people screaming as they followed those orders; people bawling; people in a deep state of distress calling some person’s name; he heard questions, some of them empty, routinary ones and others filled with much more substance, meant to subtract more specific details about something.
Then he started touching, although he didn’t touch anything; he just felt the sheets beneath him, and the uncomfortable mattress and the cold structure of the hospital bed.
And a very…broken hospital.
The building seemed fine, of course. But the place…not so much.
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