Sleeping Alone

[MICHAEL MATTHIAS WINSTON]

He was back in the infirmary, and the boy yawned a little bit, sitting on the bed. He was tired. Michael stretched slightly and he looked around from his bed. He couldn’t see where the lights were to make it go darker, so he closed his eyes and slipped into the signal world. He pushed, his head wandering through, and he found the signals at least. The lights flickered once, and then they shut off completely. It took another few minutes to crawl out of the signals, and for good measure, he took out the video as well.

He’d not had any reprecussions from it, Michael had merely been able to do what he wanted, when he wanted to do it, so he was really fine with it. He looked down slightly at the sheets and pulled them over him. He really was tired. Rubbing his eyes, he lay down, settling in lightly. He wanted more sleep. The chart at the foot of his bed was jostled a little bit as he moved. The chart labeling what he was, but he hadn’t given much help to anyone.

Michael’s long hair fell in his face as his eyes closed to get some sleep, feeling warm…and happy. He was finally okay. Finally he felt a little better, and there were people who knew him. People who could help him get better. He…he could trust them, right? Yeah…he should.

[MICHAEL MATTHIAS WINSTON]

When he woke up, he was feeling quite a lot better, he was hungry, and he really did want some food, but he’d worked through it more later. Mostly, he was just comfortable. Michael was alone, and the video wasn’t in the room, so he allowed his stern, tight expression to soften lightly as he wriggled his toes underneath the sheets. Warm. Comfy…a real bed. He hadn’t been in one and felt this protected for weeks. He missed his little blanket area, but these sheets were okay too. They weren’t as heavy, which lowered the value for him.

He allowed his hands to fold and unfold a bit of it, touching along the sheets. He’d made them a bit dirty, especially since his clothes were rather destroyed, but at the same time, he wanted those clothes back. Just to have them. To be able to posses them. He touched the bump in his clothes. The bump being the little bear he had, the bear he needed to keep with him. His bear was dirty, but he was most concerned with the big rip on the arm. His eyes actually widened. He was upset about this, quite a bit. His bear was the only thing he had from his real mother. Maybe it meant his real mother was…was…He gulped and squeezed the bear to his chest, letting a small tear run down his cheek. No...mommy had to be okay. She just...she just had to.

[MICHAEL MATTHIAS WINSTON]

He was in between sleeping and waking quite a lot now, and he wanted to stay that way for a little bit longer if he could. He got up at times, with being alone, to wander the infirmary. He did manage to make a bit of a mess, some things hitting the ground with a crash, others just pushed aside in his search. He managed to find the object of his furious searches at least. A needle…but he hadn’t found any thread. Michael, rather upset at that, put the needle back on the counter, which was now strewn with various surgical tools.

He’d been able to use some items as a mirror, and saw that his hair was rather…long. He scratched his head lightly, and then looked down. He had to move his hair out of his face a lot, and he was still quite dirty. He didn’t necessarily want a shower, though he might need one. His face was cleaned up a bit, and Magnus had gotten the most off, but she hadn’t seen his back, which was only cleaned off with the chemicals that Ingrid had cleaned the cuts off with. He frowned a little bit, and he bit his lip.

He was cold again. Michael needed to eat food again too, but once again, he ignored these feelings of hunger. He’d ignored the feeling of hunger a lot before, because there wasn’t a way to get food, so this was the same. Being so stick-thin, Michael couldn’t really do too much physically, and in his searches for items already wounded himself a little bit, but he was getting stronger at least. A bit of the color was returning to his cheeks, and a bit of the personality he had as well, curiosity.

The infirmary was not really a place he enjoyed as much anymore, aside from the bed, but he’d gotten used to that. It was the fact that there were things in there for sick people. Some about it scared him. Something about all the tools and everything, but it was no matter. He sat down on his bed again, seeing as his search had been fruitless, and he couldn’t repair his little bears arm.

Being the clever child he was, he’d also managed to take off the other blankets, from the other beds, and put them on his own. It made him feel a lot warmer, and more comforted. Therefore: It was an okay thing to do. He liked that the room was darker as well, to the signal for the lights had not been returned. He could return it, but really didn’t want to. The video was also still most definitely down, another thing he made sure of, because people watching him…well…it made him feel uncomfortable, and once again, different. It was just something he did so he wouldn’t draw excess attention. Normally it was counterproductive anyways.
His eyes closed as he curled up beneath the mound of sheets and blankets, his body retreating to the fetal position. It helped him with feeling safe, as he slept. It seemed old habits really didn’t die out for someone like Michael. He still had dirty hands, but risked nibbling on one of his fingers, just because he seemed to enjoy the feeling of such a thing. The nibbling soon turned into Michael sucking on his thumb, a habit his parents had allowed him to have. He’d tell someone another time about his adoptive parents, and that he didn’t want to see his real parents. For now, he welcomed sleep, pushing through his growling stomach to get it.

[MICHAEL MATTHIAS WINSTON]

(complete)