When the Traffic is Lite \\ Sakura and Shikamaru
Beep. Beep. Beep.
His head was pounding, his heartbeat vibrated with every cell of his body, his lips were dry. What the heck is going on... He licked his lips but his tongue was just as dry.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
Swallowing was hard, his throat was raw and he couldn't open his eyes. He tried to lift his hand to his eyes but he was sore, drained and sorry. Every muscle hurt, and he could only feel half of his body. Pain killers. What happened? He wasn't sure he was alive.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
He listened intently to the reoccurring sound and decided the pattern was matching with his heartbeat. A machine. They were monitoring his pulse. Where am I? It was too loud. Both of them were too loud. The machine was too sharp and his heartbeat was too intense, or he felt it too acutely.
He tried to raise his arm but he couldn't. he tried to move his toes but they hurt. He needed to figure out where he was before he asked for answers. For all he knew, he could be on enemy territory; and he was in no shape to push his luck.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
He could only focus on one sense at a time, and he was already denied his sight, but he had to figure out where he was before he did anything else.
His pulse translated into beeps; muffed voices; paper -- lots of it; a vivid, sterile smell; something soft beneath him.
A hospital.
He opened his mouth and tried to speak, but nothing happened. He tried again, harder this time, and managed barely above a whisper:
"Is anybody there?"