Redesign Me, State of the Art (Jalex)

You Broke Me, You Saved Me

Alex's POV

They don't tell you that when waking up from a pain induced coma, you can be awake for quite a while without being able to open your eyes. Coherent wasn't necessarily the word I would use to describe my current state though. My own thoughts seemed clear enough; it was the words floating around and not the product of my speech that were jumbled beyond recognition. I caught phrases here and there but they belonged to nameless voices that were nearly impossible to place. Gradually I could feel light start to creep its way under my eyelids and the brighter the illumination grew, the more I was able to understand and process the conversation taking place near my bedside.

"I am so ashamed, you have to believe me. I just- I can't even begin to explain what it was like. Trapped inside your own head... It's a horrifying feeling."

"You couldn't control anything?"

"Not a thing. Essentially a prisoner in my body."

"That really must have been horrible."

"Not as horrible as the things I was doing. What I did to you, to all those kids, to my own son... I-"

The sentence cut off in synchronization with the sharp intake of breath I involuntarily took upon slightly shifting my position against the pillow. I could suddenly feel the whole room watching me in deafening anticipation. I optimistically waited for them to resume their chatter and forget about me, but was granted no such luck. Internally, I sighed and figured this was as good a time as any to open my eyes.

Another thing they don't tell you is that hospital lights are blinding upon resurfacing from your unconsciousness. Knowing this, I mean, shouldn't these places be more dim? I felt like I was staring straight into the sun for a good minute and a half before the picture in front of me began to even itself out.

I was situated in the central focal point of a fairly small room. My angle left me opposite to the door and pressed up to a wall that had a window next to it on the right. Standing beside each other at the foot of my bed were Jack and Peter.

"How are you feeling?" Jack immediately interrogated with concern, walking around to lightly put his hand over mine. My head throbbed and I lifted the hand he wasn't holding up to my temple.

"What is he doing here?" I questioned, my words dripping with spite. Peter's face fell and I saw Jack's waver, trying to find the right thing to say.

"It's a long story, we can talk about it later," he stated quickly.

"Jack. I love you," I saw his eyes brighten at my words, "but that's not good enough." He changed back to that concentrated look again before Peter spoke up.

"I understand. Just tell me when he's ready," he said before sighing and disappearing into the hallway. Jack's head turned back to face me as soon as Peter left and once again examined my physical aptitude.

"So really, how are you?" he reiterated. I was ready to fight my way to information about Peter, but Jack seemed heavily worried, if not riddled completely with anxiety referring to my well being. Resolving that my argumentative skills were better than his, I decided to put his fears at ease for a second.

"I'm alright, a little banged up, but I've seen worse," I expressed with a grin, reciting the words the both of us seemed to generally repeat after waking up from a stupor. My calm demeanor proved to lift his spirits a little and he smiled in return.

"Awesome. That's great."

Our eyes remained locked on each other, almost like there was a fear if we looked away, one of us might disappear. His thumb continued to rub the back of my hand softly and I honestly couldn't tell if it was to try to calm himself or me down. The tension in the air soon became thick with silence of the unspoken curiosity about whatever information he was withholding from me.