He wakes up missing fragments of time.
There are horrible days where he can feel the wind blowing right through him and this horrible howling in his ears. Nothing like the wind. More like cries and curses. It's too loud and he wants to jump up- screaming.
And then, sometimes there is silence, utter silence and white and-
-he wakes up in the hospital. Or... he isn't sure what to call it. The kind of hospital where they send the homeless? Where you go if they can't find your family or your insurance. He sits up, disoriented. He looks around, his head throbs and he touches it, gingerly. A band-aid on his forehead, his hair cut down short. Bandages on his hands (the phrase "stigmata" flashes over his thoughts, for no reason that he can figure). He's still wearing his glasses. Or- new glasses. He fingers the heavy plastic frames. Durable, probably. He wonders what happened to his old pair as he pulls himself out of the bed. He checks everywhere in the room, but can only find his jack