lalalive23 | Between The Flesh And The Glass: 3/??

Title: Between The Flesh And The Glass
Author:

lalalive23
Pairing: Belldom
Rating: R
Warning: Language
Summary: AU. The year is 2166. Matt works as a cryogenicist for the International System of Health. He volunteers to be the first person cryogenically frozen for 100 years.
Feedback: Tastes like a chocolate rainbow.
Disclaimer: I don't own Muse. This never happened (well, not yet). I don't make money off this. My whole life is a waste lol.
Note: Hai guys!! Happy New Year!! I hope it was wonderful for you all. I'm so happy I got the chance to settle in tonight and write this chapter. I know the past two have been very short, but soon they will get longer and more detailed. Things are choppy and brief for particular reasons. Anyhooo, once again cheers to my darling

sunshine_173 for having a writing party with me and being my beta, soundboard, sister, soulmate, mini-me, eurgoddamthing. Enjoy!!!

Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2

"It's ok. You're going to be fine."

I didn't recognize the person speaking to me, nor did I believe a word he said. He had no idea what I was going through. It was all bullshit lies that he was telling to me and especially to himself. He was keeping up appearances, keeping his voice level to reassure me that I was not actually going to die. But his eyes betrayed him. I kept staring straight into them, watching them flash between awe and fear. I wanted to speak but my throat felt as though it had been slit by knives.

"Don't worry. Don't worry."

His voice was barely a whisper and I almost didn't hear him. As I kept shaking, the sound of the electrocardiogram frantically beeping filled my ears. There were shouts as well. Sounds of metal on metal and a woman crying. I wanted to screamt at her, to tell her to get the fuck out of the room if she couldn't take it.

I tried. But all that came out was a weak moan.

Figures.

Then a new set of hands lifted me up and placed me back on the table. The shock of the steel caused my skin to sting. My eyes rolled back into my head and suddenly a sharp pain stabbed my left wrist. It felt as though my bones were shattering.

"Drink this."

A foam cup was placed to my lips and my head was lifted to help the process along. My head jerked to the side twice, causing some of the liquid to spill on my neck. Experimentally, I tried to move my mouth, my head or my hands.

Nothing.

I had no control of any part of my body, and I felt like a useless rag doll. A thumb pulled my chin down, opening my mouth, so I could drink and I felt the urge to vomit as soon as the liquid touched my tongue.

It comprised the consistency of syrup but it tasted like urine. My head was titled back and I began to gag as I attempted to swallow. Briefly, I wondered if this was how humans had evolved - into some backwards form of cannibalism where the bodily fluids were drank before they feasted on the meat.

That was when the beeping became loud and urgent, and I recognized the pulse of the sound to be cardiac arrest.

And then I passed out.

My chest was the first thing to move. I felt it, even in the haze between wakefulness and sleep, lift itself from the bed - a bed! - before my eyes opened. I was vaulted, by the force of the contents of my stomach, over the side of the bed, and I choked out what small remnants of liquid were left inside me.

Again, nothing. I was left dry heaving helplessly. My left arm slumped over my body and dangled limply. I had no strength to move it.

Momentarily the heaving subsided, and I took the opportunity to assess my situation.

I remembered being awake, however short lived that little experiment had been, and feeling the agony of being alive. I knew I had passed out. I knew it was from over stimulation.

That was it. All in all: pretty fucking useless information.

I didn't know when I was - if I had made it to the 100 year mark or if I had been taken out early. I didn't know where I was. A quick glance with my bleary eyes informed me that this room was new, something that was built while I was asleep.

And lastly: I didn't know why I was sick.

In every single test run, no side effect of vomit or nausea had been present. That is not to say every test subject is the same and that the leap from cows, who posses only a few strands of DNA that differ from ours, to humans was a small one. But we also have to consider: none of our test subjects were drug addicts.

Oh, my beautiful Necozine. So this is how we end our relationship. You, rotting for a century under a piece of wood, and me, sweating sick and yellow stains into the sterile sheets of the future.

Again I felt the waves of sickness roll from my stomach into my throat, and I heaved emptiness onto the white tiles. My spit and drool hung like strings from my bottom lip. What a disgusting creature I was. Sweat beaded and dripped down my face, though I hadn't remembered my skin ever feeling so clammy.

Taking in a breath that rattled my lungs, I recognized something very different about the air around me. It was thick and heavy, the way you would imagine a summer heat would affect the weight of the wind. But it was cold. I furrowed my brow and breathed again. I was held in something of a stasis chamber, and I could sense chemicals in the atmosphere to maintain my body's equilibrium from the outside-in.

Smart. The fuckers weren't entirely useless.

My head began to throb, the effort of living too much for my weary synapses. I watched with morbid fascination as my middle finger twitched several times. With all the strength I could muster, I attempted to make a fist so I could stop the bastard from moving.

Couldn't even ball my fingers. What the fuck kind of physical therapy was I going to need? I was worse than a baby. Maybe I was paralyzed.

I started wishing for death when I noticed a black shadow in the corner of my eye. It assumed the vague shape of a human, though I wasn't sure. Unable to turn my head to look, I forced my eyes on the object but soon gave up when the act of focusing made me ill once more.

Heaving all my spit onto the tiles, I thought of what a wonderful show I was putting on for my small audience. Maybe I would shit the bed as the finale.

The black figure remained for several minutes and, eventually, I my irritation got the best of me. Squeezing my eyes shut, I tried to find my voice for the first time in 100 years.

'Speak….motherfucker.' The sound of my voice made me wince. It was raspy and dry, a darker, rougher version of myself. I needed water.

'How are you feeling?'

The voice was magnified which lead me to believe the person was outside whatever walls I was contained in. I resented their question.

'I'm having…" I paused to gather my strength, my words. 'A fucking picnic.'

They ignored my comment completely.'You passed out in the middle of cardiac arrest. It's been three days since your initial awakening. You also sprained your left wrist.'

I hadn't even noticed the bandage on my wrist. This must have been the intense pain I felt during the awakening. Truthfully, it was a frightening thing to consider - that the force of my spasms was enough to cause my joints to tear. It was tightly bound and made of a fabric I had never seen before. I sighed. Another thing to add to the list of shit I had to deal with.

'Your muscles have atrophied a considerable amount, so don't be surprised if you have no motor control.

I groaned in response as I regarded the pattern my saliva had made on the floor. While this did explain my considerable lack of strength, this did little to offer any vague sense of comfort.

'You're contained for now in the stasis chamber. You might remember this as the room in which you changed your clothes just before you underwent the freezing process. It's changed considerably in the last 100 years. It was developed approximately twenty years ago purely for your arrival.'

My own fucking cage. How quaint.

After a moment's pause, they spoke again.

'Is there anything we can get you?'

I snorted. It fucking hurt.

'Are you…….taking requests?' I had a fucking list the size of Jupiter….if Jupiter hadn't exploded in some kind of cosmic event, that is.

'What do you need?'

A new life. Death. A different body. Necozine. 'Water,' I said.

Almost immediately I heard the sound of a door sliding open and footsteps softly walking towards me. The feet paused just below my sightline before hands grappled along my ribs and turned me onto my back to rest my head on the pillow.

A young woman stood over me, smiling softly, a clear plastic object placed over her mouth and nose. I had never seen such a thing before, but I assumed it was for sanitation purposes rather than cosmetic.

'Your immune system is very weak…' The voice continued, but I ignored it and studied the hair and neckline of the nurse above me. I watched the way her dark skin seemed to glow, the way she moved with ease. Beautiful.

She placed the glass to my lips and I was pleased to taste real liquid instead of the synthetic abomination that had ingrained itself on my memory. I downed the whole glass, letting the moisture soothe the ache of my scarred throat.

'Mr. Bellamy….we do have one more thing.' The voice shattered the peace I had only just found. 'There are…unidentifiable substances in your blood stream. We have no idea what they are or how long they've been there.'

Goddammit, Necozine, you just refuse to give up.

How could I tell them about a drug they had never heard of? How could I potentially ruin the experiment they had built their lives on? I decided not to say anything and allowed the nurse to wipe the cold sweat off my brow.

I stared at the ceiling as she injected something into my right hand that made my vision start to spin.

'Was it you?' I asked.

'What?'

'Was it you who caught me?' I didn't know why the thought suddenly came to my mind.

'….Yes.'

I smiled.

'We will start therapy in a few days, once you've had a chance to rest.'

I smiled at nothing and no one, hoping I could sleep through the phases of my withdrawal. Instantly, I knew that it would be impossible. As I drifted off to sleep, I had the sudden realization that coming off Necozine was going to be more difficult that being resurrected.

Current Music: Emerald & Lime - Brian Eno

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

darthtofu.livejournal.com

I just kinda really fucking love how Matt's drug addiction is affecting everything. YOU'RE SO COOL.

From:

ashamedbliss.livejournal.com

this is pretty much what I was going to comment so i'm going to tag mine onto here xD

LOVE THISSSSSSSS KAT <33333333333333333

From:

Finding beauty in the dissonance

Between The Flesh And The Glass: 3/??

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