Smart Guy. (Chase Davenport x Reader)

Chapter Twelve

"Yeah," you lied, yawning. You poked the circles. "What are these?"

"Pancakes," he answered, putting a black plastic fork on the tray next to the plate of the pancakes. "And the fruits are strawberries, cantaloupe, watermelon, and grapes. Eat up."

"Will... will the boy be coming back today?" you asked, playing with the fork you held.

Kaz shrugged. "He might, or he might not. It's up to him. Do you want to see him?"

"I want to know about him. See if I'll remember. Are you sure that I was in love with Chase?" You asked, furrowing your eyebrows.

He shrugged again. "I'm not sure, but there's no chance in heck that he wasn't in love with you. It's almost disgusting how much in love he is with you."

Your face went red, "Then why can't I remember him?"

"Your brain has gone through an intense amount stress recently," Kaz said, looking at a couple of the vitals on the machines. "We don't even know for sure if you'll remember everything. You're lucky to be alive. The thing-a-mabobs your chip sent to your brain started healing them the moment that your brain had started breaking. We are also waiting for them to come back to ask what other things may have caused it."

You poured some of the syrup on the pancakes. The thick maple syrup spread across the tan circles, pouring off of the edges. "Do you have any of that... that stuff that had to be churned in those... those pots with the sticks?"

Kaz snickered. "Butter?"

"Yeah."

He nodded and left the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts yet again.

You wondered where Chase was. You imagined him in a hotel room, talking to his brother and looking through his phone for symptoms of permanent Amnesia. His brown hair would be messy from his hand that had gone through it multiple times. For half a second, you wondered where you had met him. 

Kaz walked back in a few minutes later, butter in his hand.

After breakfast (Kaz had to remind you not to try and stab the pancakes with the spoon since a fork would work better), you were dying to get out of the white, bland hospital room. However, you looked at the IV next to you, your small memory of medicine coming back into your head. You looked at the bottom of the rack, finding wheels.

"Hey, Kaz..."

"What?"

"Could I go and take a walk?"

Kaz paused his quick writing on the clipboard. "I dunno. Can you walk?"

"I'm not sure," you answered. You moved your legs, a headache attacking your head. You tensed up, and held your breath, waiting for the pain to subside.

"If it hurts you too much, don't do it," Kaz said quickly rushing to your side.

"I'll be fine, just take off the thingy connecting to the heart machine."

Kaz shook his head, "We can't. You're still here for us to watch over your vitals and to heal. If it takes to much for your brain to sent the signals down to your legs in order to walk, I'll get you a wheelchair."

"Would you, then? Please?" you requested, grabbing onto the IV rack. You felt thankful that the heart machine's connector was wireless. Kaz disappeared for a few moments, the whole time, however, you were trying to make yourself stand. You looked at the clock. It was almost 12:30. You didn't have any comparison as to how long normal breakfasts took, but you assumed that yours was longer than normal.

When he came back, there was someone with him.

A man with black hair and brown eyes entered the room with Kaz. The man, like the two other boys, looked familiar, but you couldn't quite put your finger on it.

"Who are you?" you asked the man. He looked shorter than most. You guessed that he was shorter than the two other boys, but, maybe, taller than you. You didn't have a good comparison while you were sitting down.

"Adam wasn't wrong," he said, looking down at the chair. "You lost your memory. Which is a shame because we had so many good ones. I'm Donald Davenport; your boyfriend's dad."

"Where's my father?" you asked. You had no memories of your father, but you knew that you had to have one. Yes, the "birds and the bees" had come back to you.

"We don't know," he said. "Yo- OW!"

Kaz had elbowed him. "What did I tell you before we came in here? You can't tell her anything that might trigger a memory. Last time it happened, she passed out from the things in her brain moving too fast."

He moved forward, bringing the wheelchair with him. "Would you like some help?"

You made your body stand up. You jerked forward, your nerves acting up. Kaz and Donald grabbed one either one of your shoulders. You turned your body slowly, ever so carefully so there wasn't too much activity from your brain. You sat down in the chair, suddenly shorter than you were before.

"Where do you want to go?" Kaz asked, gripping the handlebars of the wheelchair.

"Can we go on a walk in the park?" you asked, looking back at the window.

"I don't think that we can," Kaz answered, starting to push you forward, struggling.

Donald shoved Kaz out of the way and grabbed the handlebars, effortlessly pushing you forward at a smooth rate.

"Why can't we?" Kaz was walking next to you at the same pace as you were wheeled out of the room and down the hallway.

"This hospital is connected to an actual hospital. If we were to take you outside, we'd have to do it before the hospital was open or right after it closes."

You looked up at Kaz, giving him your best puppy-dog eyes. "Please? Just this once, and I won't ask again for a while."

"Why can't we use the wormhole transporter?" Donald asked as you were wheeled into a waiting room. The floor was light blue and the walls were white, a darker shade of blue, and had pieces of machinery embedded in the wall. There were a couple other archways that led to other rooms around the hospital. In the wall on one end was a circular stained-glass window with one white outer circle and a black one with a red 'm' and a smaller, white one beneath it. There were three half-crescent tables in the middle, each with a doctor behind them. There were a bunch of beings wandering around the room, a couple connected to machines, lined across the wall. There was a distinct smell of medicine and a little bit of iron and sweat that filled your nose.

"Because," Kaz said, then thought about it for a second. "I don't know. It's not really meant for short-distance travels."

"Do you have to have a specific destination for it?" you asked, looking up at Kaz as you stopped.

He shook his head, "No, as long as it's going to a person, I guess."

"Why don't we give the wormhole transporter a shot?" Donald asked. Kaz grabbed the tan box.

"Okay, but I think that (Y/n) should hold it so we don't get too trigger-happy."

Kaz put the wormhole transporter on your lap and turned back to Donald. You looked at the machinery, finding a dial for letters and a dial for numbers, along with a little black rectangle next to either one. You thought about it for a second or two, then remembered his name. Chase Davenport.

For the numbers, you looked at one of the monitors for the time and date.

Hoping you got the numbers correct, you pressed the button and felt a jolt.

~~~

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I did not do any fact checks before writing this. I want you to keep in mind that this is a work of fiction. Things won't be 100% accurate. Just as a heads-up.

~Kat