A voice cuts through his sleep like a knife. A padded surface sits beneath him. Both are familiar but not. Familiar but--

Neil inhales sharply. His dark eyes snap open to bright, stinging lights, and he exhales on a cry. Shuts his eye tight to keep out the glare, pulling the skin on his forehead and subsequently his poorly stitched and made incision.

It is a poor decision.

"Shit! Ow, fuck!"