Waking On The Illusionist's Floor

The sun had long since risen, but the three friends were still affected by the past night's sedatives. The Mindreader had her head on The Illusionist's shoulder, while The Shadow sat a foot away. He was never too excited about how much time The Mindreader spent with The Illusionist, and he certainly wasn't happy at all with The Magician. In The Shadow's opinion, that bloody Magician was reason enough for The Mindreader and himself to get up and leave The Illusionist behind. That selfish, scheming b***h was dangerous, to say the least. She had tried to convince The Illusionist to commit suicide on multiple occasions, and The Shadow had his suspicions that it was only a matter of time before she tried one of her "Tricks" on the Mindreader. Probability suggested she would succeed, and The Mindreader would be...

Gone.

He wouldn't allow that. To The Shadow, The Mindreader was family, a sister. There wasn't a moment in The Shadow's memory that didn't include The Mindreader, and he remembered everything. She always needed him, and the feeling of being needed was all The Shadow wanted. He was a part of her, without her, he would be meaningless. 

The Illusionist was the first to wake, most likely due to a large number of instances where the people around him felt it was necessary to administer him a dose of sedatives. In other words, he was used to it. Next to him, The Mindreader stirred. She was leaning on him, it would be near impossible for him to get up without waking her. So, he told himself a story in his head and sat, perfectly still, waiting for the other's sedatives to wear off.