Who Really Knows, Anyway--A CrissColfer Fanfiction

Chapter 17

Darren had been sitting in the hospital chair beside Chris' bed for four days. He had ignored the doctors' protests that he leave, and Chris' manager's warnings that he needed to sleep.

Chris had been unconscious. Luckily, the doctors had reported that no permanent damage had been done, Chris' head wound had been stitched up successfully, and his ribs were close to healed already.

"He's very lucky," the doctors had said, "He's in very good shape. It could have been a lot worse."

Darren didn't think this was lucky. Chris was in a coma, for God's sake! Darren hadn't left his side. Chris' manager and publicist kept bringing him food and coffee that he would pick at and then push away. The doctors had called Chris' parents, but everyone had assured them that it wasn't too serious, he would wake up soon and they didn't have to travel up to see him. Even Mr. Halling had stopped by, but mostly it had just been Darren, standing vigil at Chris' bedside.

Darren rubbed the dark circles under his eyes. Even with an extensive amount of hospital coffee, four days with no sleep could do a number on one's physical appearance. Besides the raccoon eyes, Darren's curls were wild and untamed and his clothes were disheveled and starting to smell. His mental state was much worse. He refused to leave. Shortly speaking, Darren was a wreck.

Darren talked to Chris when no one else was around. "Hey, Chris. I miss you. You should probably wake up soon, because you were supposed to sign books in Powell's and I know how much you were looking forward to it."

"Chris, you need to wake up, because I have a present to give you and I know you'll like it."

"Chris. You have to wake up. I miss you like crazy."

Darren heard the doctors whispering about him out in the halls, but he had stopped caring. He knew he was being unreasonable, and that he needed to get some sleep and proper food. He had tried to get up, drop Chris' hand and leave. But every time he had left his place next to Chris' bed, he had come right back.

It was now 10 o'clock at night, approaching the fifth day of Chris' hospitalization. A nurse walked in and placed a comforting hand on Darren's shoulder.

"Honey, I know this is hard for you, but you've simply got to get some rest!" she said.

"No," Darren mumbled, "No, I'm staying."

The lady prepared to give Darren the pep talk he had heard from just about every doctor in the facility. He just shook his head at her, and she gave up, leaving the room. Darren burst into tears. Why couldn't Chris wake up? He was perfectly healthy, besides the fact that he was in a coma! Nothing was wrong with him. The doctors had said that it was all on Chris now to wake up.

Reporters had tried to come in, obviously. The staff of the hospital had hurried them away, telling them nothing. The only other outsider they had let in had been a man from the police force, asking Darren about what had happened. He told him; Chris had gone across the street to get some food after his book signing, and when he was a couple feet away from the sidewalk, a navy blue SUV had hit him from behind. Darren had rushed to him, but the car had driven away, and he hadn't seen the license plate or driver. While he recounted the events, Darren wanted to break down, but he stayed strong and didn't cry until the officer had left.

With everyone so optimistic that Chris would wake up, Darren was worried that their hopes would be dashed. He had heard the sad stories about somebody falling into a coma and never waking up. But that simply couldn't happen. Darren didn't know what he would do if Chris didn't recover. He had been so happy, so incredibly happy these past 2 months with Chris, and now he couldn't imagine life without him.

Darren leaned forward in his chair, putting his head next to Chris'.

"Please, Chris. You have to wake up," Darren whispered before drifting off to sleep.