Whenever You Remember (A Niall Horan Fan-Fiction)

Chapter 4

"He wants to speak to you," I looked up from my bowl of soup and saw Dr. Morgan standing there. There was no one else in the cafeteria this early, no one else he could be speaking too. "I'll let you finish eating and then we'll head on up."

"We can go now," I pushed away my bowl and got to my feet. "I'm not hungry anyway."

We rode to the top floor in silence. I was biting my nails, a bad habit I had for when I was nervous. I wasn't sure how he was going to react to me now, knowing that we weren't friends. Dr. Morgan gave me an encouraging smile before opening the door to the boy's room and disappearing down the hallway. I cautiously entered, closing the door behind me as I kept my eyes on the ground. When I heard the click of the latch I finally looked up.

"Hey," I slowly crossed towards the bed where he was sitting, stopping awkwardly a good ten feet away. "How are you?"

He was hugging a pillow to his chest with his right arm, the lost look in his eyes exemplified. He had nothing and he knew it. "I just wanted to thank you," he half-shrugged, "for being nice to me even though you knew I was crazy."

"You're not crazy," I sat down next to him. "And besides, it was my fault."

"What was your fault?"

"You getting hit by a taxi."

His eyes locked on mine, "You were there when it happened?"

I nodded and he suddenly looked hopeful. "So you met me before I lost my memory."

"Yeah."

"Do you know my name?"

"No," I nibbled on my fingernail and tried to stop my tapping left foot. "I don't know anything except that you offered to hail me a taxi when I couldn't do it. You told me that I had to have confidence, had to act like the city ran because I wanted it to run. And you said that I needed to get a bit further out into the street and wave my arms more. That's what you were doing when you got hit."

"Oh," he looked disappointed. "Well that's better than knowing nothing. Thanks again for being so nice."

"How long are you going to be in here?" I indicated the whitewashed walls.

He shrugged, "The doctor said I have to stay here until I either regain my memory or they find someone I know whose care I can be released into. They honestly don't think there's anything they can do for me."

I suddenly had an idea, "I'll be right back."

"Okay," he nodded glumly as I crossed the room and opened the door, calling for Dr. Morgan as I went.

-

"Come in," I heard a sleepy voice call the next morning as I rapped on the door. I slipped inside, flipping on the light as the boy moaned and covered his face with his arm. He was still in bed, blue eyes heavy with fatigue and face creased with pillow marks.

"Good morning," I smiled and pulled a chair up to his bedside.

"Annie?" his blue eyes peeked out at me. "What are you doing here? I thought it was the doctor when I heard the knock."

"Visiting you," I cheerfully rummaged through my overstuffed backpack. I wanted to help him, to reverse what I had done to him. I also had an alternative, bit more selfish reason, for being there. "I brought you something."

"What is it?" he struggled to sit up and I automatically reached out to help him. He batted my hand away and did it himself. "You didn't have to bring me anything. You didn't even have to come."

"Sure I did," I plucked the teddy bear down in his lap. "And I brought you a friend."

His right arm clutched the bear to his chest and I was surprised to see him blinking away tears. It was only a stupid bear, nothing to cry over. "Thank you," he sniffed.