Chapter Text
With every breath, Martyn feels like there's a screwdriver jamming into his brain, pain shooting up from his sinuses into his skull in an unending cacophany. He fruitlessly works his jaw like it will release some of the tension, but even that slight movement somehow seems to make it all worse. Opening his eyes is a monumental task, and everything looks blotted out and dream-like in quality. Is he anchored in the stream? If he drifts too far it's going to be hell to un-fuck it all.
He tries to open his mouth to speak and call out to DOC, if he still has connection at all, but at first attempt the words don't come. Gods, what happened? The pounding in his head only intensifies. Martyn takes a few slow breaths in through his nose and out through his mouth and then tries once more. This time his voice comes, albeit weak and the words gummy.
"DOC … we gotta …"
A hand touches his shoulder, and Martyn jumps, an unconscious reaction that only makes everything hurt worse. He forces his eyes open more. If he's not in the stream, then he needs to get back, to be safe, so —
"Woah!" Startled sounds rise up as Martyn throws his weight forward and lurches to his feet. A gray haze floods him from the inside out and just as soon as he's upright, he's falling, barely caught by the shoulders.
It's very real, very firm, and as he's lowered back into a horizontal position he only mamages an ungraceful "uhhhhnnnnnn?"
"Don't get up." Doc orders. Doc? What the hell? Martyn is staring up and can't quite make his eyes focus. "Don't move, actually."
Another face swims into view and for a second Martyn sees — a rat, a preacher, a vampire, a king — and then it clarifies into Ren, or at least clarifies as much as is possible.
"It's alright, baby." Ren says the words but his voice is shaky. "I'm right here."
"Where…" Martyn swallows thickly. "What?"
"Do you remember what happened?" Doc asks.
Martyn shakes his head a little and then flinches, squeezing his eyes shut. "Ow. Ow." Maybe Doc has a point about not moving at all. "Are you real?" He mumbles.
Ren grasps Martyn hand and Martyn can feel him trembling. "Yeah, we're real, man. Promise."
Martyn tries to breath in through his nose and out through his mouth like that's going to fix the everything. "Where're we?"
"You said we should not be here, Ren and I." Doc explains slowly. "Something about a stream."
What? Why the fuck would he have pulled Doc and Ren into the stream with him? If Martyn could smack his past self he would.
Ren is speaking in a hushed voice to Doc and Doc is responding steadily and calmly. Something about how Doc will work it out and Martyn will recover and Martyn knows he needs to shake this off and get up. He needs to get them anchored, if he hasn't already, and then get them out of here.
"Ren." Martyn says as loudly as he can, which is an unimpressive volume. "Need you to help me sit up."
"No." Doc interrupts brusquely, but Martyn fumbles and tugs on Ren's sleeve.
"Please." He pleads.
Bent to his will, Ren's arm snakes around Martyn's shoulders. Doc puts his hand on Martyn's other arm, relenting.
"Just give me some time." Martyn's voice slurs as he pushes through the exhaustion. "I got it."