He slept long and deep, the drug that had been injected into him pressing him down farther and farther until there was only oblivion. there were no dreams, no fears... and most of all, no pain. When he at last began to struggle back to consciousness, it was with only a dim, groggy, fuzzy awareness that time had passed. He couldn't say whether hours, days or years had passed. He didn't actually hear the noises around him so much as realize, as he felt his ability to recall memory begin to return to him, that he could remember having heard sounds around him as he slept. The sounds didn't actually register in his mind until  long after they had faded.<br/><br/>His first sense to return to him after memory told him he was waking up, was the sense of touch. He could feel warmth, soft fabric, and comfort. Another groggy flicker of memory struggled to the surface and he recalled the last thing he'd been aware of before sleep had overtaken him. A tender, gentle touch to his cheek. The memory set his cheek to tingling. It was a sensation that he was completely unfamiliar with. His life had never been gentle. He had never known kindness when it was not driven by a dark ulterior motive. It made him nervous. His hand moved slowly, with great effort as he fought off the drug, and touched his cheek.<br/><br/>For a while, he struggled to open his eyes, but found the effort too taxing. Finally, he relaxed and let out a long sigh. He drifted again, half awake and half asleep, unable to resist the soothing draw of the warmth that enveloped him.