The Boy with the Two Toned Hair (Bon X Reader)

Chapter Fifty-Nine

Alas, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't get my hand to move. Slowly, the feeling on my hand disappeared, and I was alone again. If I had the ability, I would have burst into tears, yet, I could not. I couldn't do anything. I was stuck in this dark void, unable to communicate, to speak, to do anything to show whoever was with me that I was there. I was completely and utterly helpless. I was hopeless.

There was suddenly a soft noise, one I had never heard before. It was foreign, and in my incompacitated state, it was frightening. There was something else on my hands now, moving up my arms, pulling them out and moving them back in. The touch was soft yet foreign, just like the noise. Maybe they were connected.

Soon, the first familiar rumbling joined the softer one, instantly bringing me comfort. The familiar noise repeated the movement on my other arm. I couldn't help but wonder what they were doing to me. It didn't make sense, but it didn't hurt. It wasn't like I had the option to oppose the actions. For the time being, I could do nothing but lie in wait.

(LINE BREAK)

"-improvement." My eyes snapped open at the sudden noise. Well, at least I think they did. With this pitch black void, I could never tell if my eyes were open or closed. Even if I did know, I don't think there would be much of a difference. "Her vitals...great...stabilizing." There was a voice again. From the sound of it, it was male, but that's all I could learn. I strained to hear more of the conversation as I was only receiving bits and pieces. "I...recovery," the voice continued.

As the voice continued, my anger and frustration grew. Why can't I hear all of the conversation? What was wrong with me? What happened to me? Why am I recovering? I don't remember anything.

"Try...talk to her," the voice said. "There's been studies...coma patients..." If the man had continued, I hadn't heard him. I was too stuck on one singular word he had spoken. Coma. Am I in a coma? What happened to me? Where am I? "Hold her hand," the voice said, breaking me from my stupor."Tell...you're here," the voice directed, and there was suddenly something touching my hand again. It was the same warm, calloused feeling I had felt before. There was something touching my forehead, playing with my hair, brushing it away from my face.

Then, a new voice entered the darkness, shining like a light in the unending void. "I'm right here, sweetheart; it's dad. Just wake up, baby." I could have cried at the sound of my father's voice. "Right here, sweetheart," he repeated, and the thing touching my hand squeezed my hand. It must have been his own hand. "Can you feel me squeezing your hand, kiddo? I'm right here, right by your side," he reminded me. "Tobias and Suguro are here too; so is Mio. And your friends were here to visit just a little while ago," he informed me.

Tobias. Suguro. Mio. Those names sparked something inside of me. It was a new fire burning inside of me, waiting so impatiently to be released. I wanted to wake up, to be with them, to see them, to tell them I was alright. Even with the fire burning within my soul, I couldn't wake up, no matter how hard I tried. In all honesty, I didn't know what 'awake' was or how to get there.

"Squeeze my hand," my father said, sounding as if he was near tears. "Come on, (Y/N), please. Anything," the man pleaded. I couldn't take hearing him upset. He was my father. He was my rock. He was strong. I didn't like hearing him cry.

The fire bursted inside of my chest, and I felt my hand wrap around his own in a small, probably barely noticeable squeeze. But I had done it. And my father had felt it. The squeeze was returned with watery words of praise.

"Oh, God. Oh, (Y/N). Good, (Y/N). That was so good. You're doing so well. I'm here, baby. I'm right here," my father said. Now, it sounded like he was full out crying. I didn't like that. Wasn't that supposed to make him happy? I was telling him I could hear him. Why is he even more upset now? I must have done something to communicate my distress because he was whispering comforting words the next second. "Oh no, baby. Shh, shh. It's okay. I'm happy, baby. Calm down; you're okay. I'm right here," he reminded me. "You're doing so well. Just take your time; take a break."