It wasn’t a sensation of waking really; it was more like the feeling you get when you transition from one dream to the next. You have no control, it never makes sense, and you’re basically there for the ride. Surreal was the word. But Wash was awake, fully awake for the first time in hours.

He could feel hands pressing his shoulders to the table. It was cold. He was cold.

He could barely breathe and the pain was unbearable. He had trouble pulling in even short breaths through his mouth and it felt as if needles were piercing his skin everywhere.

His head was pressed flat to one side, but it didn’t matter. His vision was cloudy and he couldn’t really make anything out. If he had to guess, he was facing the wall.

He could hear screaming. It took a second but then he realized. It was him. He was the one screaming. It was a hoarse noise, almost like a moan. He didn’t remember when he’d started and was fairly certain he couldn’t stop.

The hands on him pushed harder, holding him in place as he started to struggle. Now he couldn’t breathe at all. He was choking. This had to be what death was like.

“Jayne!” he heard from somewhere behind him. He knew that voice. He knew that name. Mal. Mal was saying something to Jayne. Jayne must be the one holding him down. “Ease up. We’re not trying to strangle him. He just needs to be immobile.”

He heard the man let out a huff of air just above him, but the pressure lessen after that. He was breathing normal again, well relatively normal.

With much effort, Wash had managed to stop himself from yelling or at least yelling at the top of his lungs, but still couldn’t figure out what the hell was going on. His throat was dry and sore. He noticed now that, aside from Jayne holding down his shoulders, something was wrapped around his legs and chest keeping them from moving as well as he lay flat on his stomach.

He tried to ask a few times, ‘What’s happening?’ but never got it out quite right. It sounded heavy and garbled to his ow