Beep... Beep... Beep...
"... Eh... What... What is that sound...?"
Beep... Beep... Beep...
"Where am I...? I'm..."
Beep... Beep... Beep...
"I'm... I... I can't move...?"
Beep... Beep...
Beep...
Connor could feel his head going extremely dizzy, but that was almost about it. He had the sensation that it was moving upwards; as if being pushed up into the sky. With a little effort, he could listen to the faint sound of his heartbeat. However, there were no signs of his arms or legs.
Beep...
Beep...
The loud beeping noise kept ringing in the echoing surrounding, as if it were everywhere. Connor's head kept spinning, and something like a faint light seemed to be filtering through his closed eyes. With little strength, he tried opening them, to little success, but for long enough to notice what appeared to be lights rushing downwards in front of him, a blueish squared tiled pattern along with it, and what appeared to be several pairs of flashing eyes before him.
-"... Hurry... Intensive... Care... Patient... Now...!"
-"... Move... Hurry...!"
"What... What are those...?", Connor thought to himself, "Are those... voices...?"
More faraway voices could be heard in the surroundings, but Connor couldn't notice what they were saying. But from what he could gather, it seemed like they were talking about him. Connor was having a hard time putting the pieces together on what was going on, but what was for certain is that these people were carrying him away somewhere.
But he had no time to be taken anywhere.
He had to check on Nicola.
He had to see if his sister was alright.
Fathoming what little strength he felt he had in him, he tried to produce some sort of movement. It was a merely impossible task with the accumulated exhaustion, which wasn't letting him even raise his head. But, just as he was about to give up, he felt his right arm returning to his control, and with it, the fingers of his right hand twitching slightly.
"Come on... notice it, you idiots...", he begged to his insides.
-"... Look... Fingers... Moving...!"
-"... Give... More... Now... Hurry..."
-"... Loosing... Consciousness..."
-"... Heartbeat... Slowing...!"
"I'm not dying... you... lot of... imbeciles..."
But the exhaustion was stronger than Connor.
Before he could try to move again, the exhaustion took the best of him, and lost himself to the world of the blackest sleep he'd only ever had once in life before. Only he wasn't aware of it yet.
Beep...
Beep...
Beep...
---
The first thing he noticed, was the smell. Something that seemed familiar, but long forgotten. Connor struggled to remember where it was from, or what it even was, despite how physically tired he felt. However, after a few minutes of the scent, he came across what it was; a mixture of warm coffee recently brewed, and burnt cinder left from last night's fireplace.
"... But... impossible...", he thought, "I hadn't felt that scent since... since..."
Suddenly, light. And Connor opened his eyes wide.
He blinked once, twice. He was inside a room he took seconds to recognize. The red walls, the small, rectangular shape, with a window at one end and a door at the other. The bed he was sitting in, with a matching maroon cover. The desk in front of him, piled up with books. The closet next to it, which he was sure that if he opened, he would find the clothes he used to wear when he was little. And behind him, on top of the bed, the few medals from swimming competitions he had attended with his oldest school.
Plus, the smell.
There was no mistake.
-"... I'm... I'm, home...?"
Connor could hear himself speak out loud, but it was a mere whisper. His vision was still blurry, and he couldn't tell what was in the reflection of the mirror in front of him. But he was almost a hundred percent sure he was in his family's house of La Crescent, Minnesota.
But how did he get there?
Why was he here?
Did this mean that Nicola was here as well...?
Suddenly realizing he was sitting up straight, and that meant he had control over his body once again. How much time had passed since he passed out?
Stumbling a little, he managed to stand up. It was still very dizzying to his head, but he had to make an effort. Taking one step at a time, he headed towards the door.
The pictures on the walls, the color of the green carpet that lined up the hallway, the lamps to his left and right... yes, this was definitely his house. But he didn't know what he was doing here; with it practically intact. It had been years. Hadn't it been demolished...? Feeling quite weary, Connor spoke into the hallway.
-"... He-Hello...?"—he asked out loud, timidly—"Is there anyone... here?"
RING! RING! RING! RING!
The sound of a ringing phone was coming from somewhere downstairs. Connor knew that the one phone they kept was on the kitchen counter, so that had to be it, if this was truly his house.
-"I'm coming!"—Connor suddenly announced with a hint of excitement he wasn't sure where it was coming from.
Making his way down the hallway and left towards the stairs, in no time he was already at the kitchen, just as he remembered it, with the wooden cabinets and the silverware placed on the lower shelves so that Nicola could reach them as well; and the phone, right where it should be. Connor failed to notice just how unnaturally quickly he had reached the kitchen.
Picking up the phone with an excitement he hadn't had in years for such a trivial task, Connor answered like it hadn't been a day since last time he had done so.
-"Hello? This is Connor speaking! Connor Franta!"—he said into the device, with a grin on his face he was also not quite controlling.
Then, from the other end of the line answered a sweet, sore, yet homely voice Connor almost paralyzed when hearing.
-"My, my... is the handsome young man Connor Franta himself?"
Connor didn't respond.
That voice... was that...
But it couldn't be...
-"M-Mommy...!?"
He could feel tears rolling down his cheeks. His heart, pounding heavily against his chest, up to the point of physical pain. His knees going weak, prompting him to almost fall, but managing to support himself on the counter.
His mother. His long gone mother was speaking to him on the phone, there was no mistake.
-"My, my, honey... are you alright?"
-"Mommy—! Mom—I!"
Connor couldn't manage to say a proper sentence. His throat clenched, his words clogged. His mother was talking with him. That voice he had missed for so many, many years. It was finally back.
-"Are you doing alright, Connie? My sweet, brave, little boy..."—she spoke softly—"Just take a look at you! You're down to your skin and bones... Are you taking care of you? I need to hear from you that you are...!"
-"Mom—! Mommy, I—! I just—I miss you so much...!"
-"I know, son, I know..."—she said, sending Connor something like an embrace up his spine—"But you have to be strong, now. You have been so far. You must go on like that. You have to promise me, ok?"
-"I want to go back mom...! I want to go back like things were before the accident...! If I had never wanted to go to that stupid swimming competition—then I—then you and dad—!"
-"Now, now. Let's not dwell in the past, Connie. Whatever you do. Promise me, you'll go on. No matter what."
-"B-But—!"
-"Promise me, Connor."
Connor's loud whimpers and sobs were barely allowing him to speak. But he composed himself. Putting up a straight face, he steadied his breath, and without bothering to dry the tears off, he stood up and answered.
-"I promise, mom."
-"Good. That's one more promise that you have to keep now, isn't it? There's one you have to always be there for someone, right? Someone that means a lot to you..."
Alexis' face popped up in his mind, as if she had appeared right before Connor for a brief second. She was followed by Mikey, and Grace. And even further away, he noticed a pair of blue eyes.
-"You have to go back to them... to the people who care about you, Connie..."
-"Mom...? Mom, what do you mean...?"
-"I'm afraid I have to go. But we'll talk again, one day. I promise. And when we do, I'll take you for that ice cream I promised you we would go for after the competition, ok?"
-"Mom!?"
-"Goodbye, Connie. I will always love you."
-"Mom!? Mommy!? MOMMY! MOM...!"
It was useless, the line was dead once again. Connor let go off the phone, the device falling to the ground with its chord and all, still hanging from the box it was connected to.
But, it made no sound.
And that's when Connor realized; there wasn't any other sound at all. Not the wind, not the ticking of the clocks. Not even his own breathing produced any noise.
His sight became blurry again; before he could tell, he was already starting to walk backwards, trying to avoid stumbling over his own weight. He felt smaller than before; shorter. As if his entire body had lost a humungous amount of mass. Using his hands to support himself on the walls to prevent falling. His head faced downwards; he could see his bare feet, but... no shadow of his body?
Finally, he made his way to the central hallway of the first story of his house, on which end was a large wall mirror. Managing to stand close enough to see his reflection, Connor made the best attempt he could to stand up straight.
He blinked once, twice, because he couldn't believe what he was seeing. The person staring back at him in the mirror wasn't himself; or rather, it was himself, but not the Connor he was today.
It was him from ten years ago, when he was eight years old. Still with the full cheeks and chubby belly, and without the scar on top of his right eyebrow that resulted from the car crash.
And suddenly, everything went dark. He lost the floor on which he was standing, and he could feel the entire house collapsing. Someone he fell into what felt like dark, cold water, but still could breathe. As he floated down into the nightmare, his mind raced and his hear pounded in fear.
-"This isn't happening... This isn't happening...!"
Connor was on the verge of screaming, but it would have been to no use. He knew nobody would be able to hear him inside that hell he had been thrown into.
When he blinked again, he was sitting on the back of a car seat. He could see that the outside was dark, and it was raining heavily. In front of him, to formless shadows argued like a volcano would battle a typhoon, but they had no shape no coherent voice. Rather, their speech was almost like the growling of two hungry howling beasts. The windshield wipers of the front of the car were moving left and right heavily, and an all too familiar song was playing on the radio.
"Coming out of my cage, and I've been doing just fine
Gotta, gotta be down, because I want it all!
It started out with a kiss, how did it end up like this?
It was only a kiss; it was only a kiss...!"
-"No... not this again..."—Connor managed to choke out, crying in silence.
He was already too used to this nightmare. His mom's words rang on his head, asking him to be strong.
"If it meant to relieve this moment yet one more time, then so be it.", he said to himself.
He could already see the flashing lights of the truck heading their way into collision with Connor's car. So, waiting for the inevitable moment of the crash, Connor took a grip of the seatbelts to his sides, Connor armed himself with valor and waited for the impact.
Just as the song reached its chorus, the truck started honking, and came into crashing violently with the car. However, this time, Connor felt how he was pushed away backwards, flying through the back window which had shattered into a million pieces as he went flying right through it. However; it didn't hurt. Nor did it feel like he was falling. It was as if he were soaring. Flying away from that horrible memory, away from the moment his parents died. He watched the car bursting into flames and the truck stumbling over to a side, in the middle of the lonely road surrounded by forest, melting snow and heavy rain.
As he flied away, he allowed his body to be taking by the wind current that carried him with ease.
When he felt he had stopped moving, he tried opening his eyes, this time with more difficulty than before. He saw blinding lights atop of him, and felt the faint odor of linoleum and disinfectant. He could feel something connected to his right arm, like a small pinch. From the corner of his eye, Connor noticed it was an IV line, which was probably providing him with blood to make up for the lot he had lost in the accident. Judging from the strange contact he felt on his hands, he would say he was under some sort of cloth or cover.
A hospital.
And not just any hospital; he was in the exact same hospital he was on the night his parents died. Just like the relived memory, it was as if he was going step by step through that day, and all that happened afterwards.
If that was true though, there was only one way to prove it. Fearing what he would see, Connor slowly turned his sight to his right. And sure enough; right next to him, fully clothed, and sleeping with a peace and gentleness he hadn't seen in years, was his six-year old brother Brandon, tugged right next to him, holding on to his arm and rest his head on Connor's chest. Upon the sight of the child next to him, Connor could feel himself almost break down in tears once again. Extending his left arm, trying his best not to wake the boy, he attempted to pat his golden head. And to his surprise, he did get the feeling of something grazing the tips of his fingers. It was as if hay passed right through and between them, soft, and pleasuring to the tact.
But if Brandon was there, sleeping with him in the same bed, it meant that something else was happening in that very same room.
Connor turned right, and there it was. Both Nicola and Dustin, in their ten and twelve-year-old selves, talking to a faceless man. His name or anything about him was unimportant. What mattered were his words, which were shattering their world into pieces.
-"Your parents... are dead..."—he spoke, like a rumbling monster that lives beneath the bed of the children who misbehave, just like in bedtime stories—"The crash, it was too strong... Tomorrow the Social Agents are coming... you four are being taken in by the State..."
At first, silence. Connor knew that they wouldn't turn around to see him, but he still prayed to every God that he was being quiet enough for them not to feel the need to turn around. Dustin remained immobile. Nicola, on the other hand, took two steps forward tentatively towards the man. They were both facing away from Connor, but he still could imagine the face she would have at the time; heartbroken, disbelief, worry, anger, concern... all at once, never to end. Her green eyes probably turning older and gray, her entire body shivering, and she using her arms to rub her shoulders trying to fathom some heat.
-"W... What does that mean...?"—she asked, then turning to her older brother, who despite the age different was pretty much her same height—"Dustin... what does this mean...?"
Dustin didn't say anything, nor would he say anything.
He wasn't going to say anything for the rest of the night.
Connor saw all of it once again. He saw how Dustin remained immobile and Nicola fell to her knees, and cried inconsolably. Just like back then, just like that time. Yet no one helped her up, or consoled her. No one told her it would be alright. Nobody hugged tight and said that things would be ok. Not Dustin, who was next to her. Not Connor, powerless, who watched from his hospital bed. Crying.
The view changed again, and this time he was standing at the end of a white corridor. This had to be the same corridor from that hospital. Next to him, was Dustin, along some of the nurses and staff of the hospital. And faraway down the hallway, too far away for him to reach, was a group of people slowly walking away. Doctors and other faceless forms led the way, and on the rear, walking hand in hand, were Nicola and Brandon. They were being taken away; away to some foster house where the two of them would spend God knows how much time. Connor saw how they stopped on their tracks, and Brandon turned his head around on his direction, watching him with an unreadable expression. Then, when he noticed Connor was looking back, he turned away and took cover behind his big sister. He was afraid. Afraid of his own brother whom which he had slept next to just moments ago inside Connor's memory.
It stung Connor right in the heart.
-"Brandon... Nicola... wait!"
He started walking at first, then jogging, then running at full speed. Chasing the figure of his siblings as they headed away from him. But no matter how much he exhausted himself, no matter how fast he ran; it was an impossible task. It was as if the hallway stretched itself even further the more he tried to reach them. His legs were now heavy, and he could feel his entire weight pulling him down, and making his movements slower than those of the entire reality around him.
-"Wait... Please...!"—he begged into the nothingness—"Wait... For me...!"
But it was futile. Both Nicola and Brandon were at the end of the hallway with the rest of the mob, and they disappeared into a blinding light that led Connor to cover his eyes in an attempt to prevent it from driving him insane.
"It's all your fault... it's all your fault..."
Still standing in the same position, Connor felt how a strong gust of winter wind struck him, along with the feeling of snowflakes on his exposed skin like they would on the coldest of nights. He removed his hands from his eyes, and saw that he was effectively outside the entrance to the hospital at night, next to the street. The only person there with him was no other than Dustin, who was intently watching the silver wristwatch of their late father, which he held on his right hand.
Connor was struggling to breathe. He knew what was coming. He knew this nightmare, this... ghost.
Swallowing a huge gulp of saliva down his throat and arming himself with courage, he took two step forward towards his older brother. Without hesitating, he spoke up.
-"Dustin...? Dustin, why... Why are you so quiet...?"
No response.
-"Dustin... what is... what is going to happen to us...?"
Nothing.
Dreading the next dialogue, Connor shed a tear as he asked the third and final question.
-"Dustin, I think that... I think that Brandon... h-hates me... do... do you... do you... hate me, too...?"
And then, Dustin moved. He switched his attention from the broken device on his hand, to the eyes of his brother, green just like his. Only Connor's were full of sadness and grief, whilst Dustin's were with rage and... hatred.
Switching the direction of his body and stomping towards Connor, he pushed him violently, sending Connor directly to the ground. Just like when it had happened in real life, Connor watched in shock as he laid on the ground, powerless to do anything.
-"YES, I HATE YOU!"—screamed the older of the two, with a wrath Connor had never seen on him before in his entire life—"I HATE YOU, AND I WISH IT HAD BEEN YOU WHO DIED IN THE CRASH INSTEAD OF MOM AND DAD!"
Throughout the years, Connor's memory of his brother's attack had been altered and shifted, little by little erasing the more hurtful parts and simply replacing them with blurs of nothingness and opaque. Now, however, it was fully back on. Like the first time. And Connor doubted he'd ever be able to forget.
Crying with rage, Dustin went on with his rampage.
-"I HATE YOU, AND I DON'T WANT YOU NEAR ME! THIS IS YOUR FAULT! YOUR FAULT...! IT'S YOUR FAULT THAT THEY DIED...!"
Dustin clenched his fists and kicked the ground. His eyes were shut strongly and his jaw was gritting, trying to prevent any further explosions. He kept crying and stomping the ground. Connor tried to stand up, and with weak legs, he managed to do so.
-"Dustin, I—!"
-"NO! NO, SHUT UP! I DON'T WANT YOU TO TALK TO ME! I DON'T WANT TO BE WITH YOU, OR ANYONE! I JUST WANT TO BE LEFT ALONE! AND I DON'T WANT THIS FUCKING WATCH!"
With mighty force, Dustin tossed the watch away into the ground, and then in the same movement, his fist went right into Connor's face, sending him to the ground again, this time not to stand up. Connor took a palm to his cheek as he cried in both pain and distraught, while his older brother went about his condemning.
-"IT'S YOUR FAULT...! IT'S YOUR FAULT...! IT'S YOUR FUCKING FAULT...!"—Dustin screamed—"MOM AND DAD DIED, BECAUSE OF YOU...! AND THAT'S WHY BRANDON HATES YOU, AND I HATE YOU, TOO...! AND NO MATTER WHAT YOU DO, THAT WILL NEVER CHANGE...!"
Connor saw, once again, how after furiously professing his hatred, his older brother turned around in a swift moment, and without giving it a second thought or care, ran away into the darkness of the forest beyond the road. And that would be the last time Connor would ever see him, until the day he appeared at Grace's house.
Connor remained in the ground crying for what seemed an eternity. He couldn't feel the snow falling on him anymore, and he kept whispering things to himself.
-" P-Please... Don't leave me alone... I'm sorry... I'm sorry, Dustin... Mom... Dad... It's my fault... I'm sorry..."
But it was too late, Dustin was gone and Connor was alone, and he knew that. The memory was still stinging, but he had already lived it before, and several other thousand times when his mind played tricks on him. Connor knew how to survive this one.
He just had to pick up the watch.
Standing on his own two feet, struggling not to crumble to his shaking body, Connor managed to compose himself and walk towards the sparkling silver thing that laid on the ground before him. He crouched down, and picked it up from the snow. The machine was badly broken; both the glass was cracked and the clock hands weren't moving at all. They were forever stuck in the same unimportant numbers. Connor wasn't even sure if they were the time of the car accident, because they had said that the watch had taken so much damage that the time on it probably got changed at the moment of the crash.
But it didn't matter now, did it?
Connor placed it inside his pocket, and watched the white ground beneath his feet. Waiting, for the nightmare to be over.
"Come on... haven't I had enough...?"
But it seemed like the dream wasn't going to end. Connor remained frozen on that spot, waiting for an ending that wasn't coming. At one point he looked upwards, towards the blackest snowing sky.
-"... What else do you want from me...?"
-"... That's a question I've been asking myself, Green."
That voice.
In the blink of an eye, everything went black again, only this time it didn't change; Connor had been sent into the deepest abyss of a dark world, and there wasn't anyone else with him. Then, a bright, dancing light appeared in the far distance. It didn't illuminate much, but it was enough to catch his attention. Feeling that he had to chase it, he started running after it.
Connor felt how with every lunge he took forward, he became faster, got less tired, and even got bigger. After a few yards forwards he was already going at full speed, and was already grown back into his eighteen-year-old self. But the light, which turned out to be a flame, wasn't drawing much closer; just so enough that he could see it more clearly. The voice, which he unmistakable recognized as Red's, spoke from within it.
-"Maybe you should have listened to Lia and just leave, Green."—it said—"Maybe it would have been better that way."
Connor stopped running, and stood still on his tracks, the flame just a few feet away from him now. It was a small wisp of red fire. If he tried, he felt that it could fit atop the palm of his hand. It floated right in front of him, faltering a little against the cold air of the darkness.
-"Perhaps like that, none of this would have happened..."
-"... What are you talking about...?"—Connor asked, doubtful.
-"My, my... You sure aren't bright..."
Connor frowned. He knew that this was a nightmare, and it wasn't the first time that his bad dreams had taken the form of Red. He knew this was just trying to get to him.
-"You aren't real."—he said convinced—"What happened to Alexa wasn't my fault. I didn't put the posters, or told anyone about Lucy. I didn't even write it down in my journal. Her secret was going down to my grave with me."
-"Hmm?"—the flame mumbled—"How are you so sure you are saying the truth...? You don't seem to convinced..."
But Connor was convinced this time.
-"One of us had to get burned."—he stated—"Too bad. It was fire instead of ice, in the end. I could've handled it. I could've burned for you; I wouldn't have minded."
-"And for that, you are one step ahead, bad boy..."
The wisp started disappearing, perishing under the darkness, as its voice died into a faraway echo. In a desperate attempt to prevent it from dying, Connor cupped it between his hands, only for it to burst into a huge ray of light that illuminated the nothingness around him.
After his eyes adjusted to the change, Connor noticed a strange, yet familiar setting. A large, faraway plain. On top of him, a clear blue sky with a sun to the far west, and several white cotton clouds dancing slowly through the view. To wherever he looked around him, nothing but sunflowers. A beautiful meadow that seemed to extend for eternity.
The air smelled sweet, and his chest felt full. This Eden made him feel good. It made him feel safe. However, despite the beauty and the tranquility, he couldn't help but feeling like there was more to the plain. He took a hunch, and turned around fully. And, effectively, in the not too far distance, a little construction could be seen. Or rather, a small bench with some sort of roof on top of it to provide shade.
A bus stop?
Connor walked towards it slowly. It looked far away, but the dream allowed him to arrive at it swiftly in a matter of seconds. There wasn't anyone but a girl he had never seen before sitting on it. She was wearing a short sleeveless white dress with matching sandals. No jewelry, no necklaces or anklets or earrings. Smiling at her like she wasn't just another stranger, Connor took a seat to her left side, which was free on the bench, taking little importance into the matter.
The girl had pretty dirty blonde hair, but Connor couldn't see her eyes or her face. It was as if the sun glowed on it so that he couldn't notice her or her factions. Connor thought that perhaps it would be the best time to start a conversation.
-"Hi!"—he said, grinning widely—"My name is Connor. What is yours?"
The girl looked downwards, apparently unable to face Connor. She shook her head in negation, and Connor noticed a slight blush.
-"Oh?"—Connor asked, conflicted—"It's ok. You don't have to tell me your name if you don't want to."
Connor turned frontwards, and observed how the sun reached its setting point in front of them far away. For some reason, the entire scene made him feel nice.
-"... Are you waiting for a bus?"—Connor asked.
The girl nodded, but still didn't look his way. Connor was mesmerized with how pretty she seemed to be, but still she refused to speak and he couldn't tell the details of her face.
-"I don't know if I'm waiting for a bus as well."—Connor confessed, still looking at the setting sun—"I have the feeling that if I get on a bus, I will leave somewhere I've never been before..."
He made a pause, realizing that what he said was probably true, even if he didn't know where he was getting it from.
-"... And that once I get there, there isn't any going back."
The girl looked downwards. Connor got the impression that his words had gotten to her, even if she didn't speak. There was something too solemn about her, as if she were just waiting for the next wind to send her off from the ground and flying into the sky, until she reached the next bus stop on the next sunflower meadow. He wondered if it had been like this for her entire life. Probably it had. Probably it had for him as well, moving from one town to the next as a foster kid seemed just like him taking several many bus stops from one to the next, never knowing when would be his last.
-"... I think I don't want to take the bus."—Connor confessed—"I think I don't want to leave this place yet. Yule... I think I like it here."
He nodded his head, committing to the words he was saying.
-"Yes, I like it here... I... I have made so many good friends here, and... And I finally felt, like I had a home, you know...? And then..."
He looked at the distance, as a gust of gentle wind played with his hair.
-"... Then I met someone, and... in a bus stop, just like this one, I saw him for the first time... and I don't know if I can through another day without letting him know how sorry I am for all the damage I've made him."
This time, the girl looked at Connor. But he was too focused on the sunset in the far ahead, he didn't bother to look her way. He was contempt knowing she was listening.
-"I think I still owe him an apology."—Connor said—"And that's why... that's why I can't leave yet. Because I know Alexis will be fine, and I know Grace and Mikey and Lilly will as well... but... I can't leave without telling Troye that I'm sorry, first."
With a new resolve, Connor stood up, patted the dust off his jeans and stretched his arms wide. He then placed both hands on his hips, and spoke with a new found resolve.
-"I have to go back."—he decided—"I made a promise to mom. I said I would be strong and go on no matter what. And I have to keep that promise. I can't just take the bus yet."
Just as he had said that, the noise of a bus honk came from their far left. The girl looked in that direction, where effectively a bus was approaching. But it was still so far away. There wasn't even a road; it was clearly driving over the sunflowers. However, it didn't seem to disrupt the view or kill the flowers. The illusion was clearly made to tempt all waiting passengers to board the vehicle.
However, Connor had already decided not to. And feeling like he had to do the same for the girl, he extended his right arm towards her.
-"What do you say?"—he asked—"How about we skip on this bus for now, hmm?"
The girl's hair flowed with the wind. Connor still couldn't tell her face, but for some reason, looking at her made him feel strange. Almost as if he had known her for a long time. After a long pause of consideration, she nodded slowly, and took a grip of Connor's hand.
The two of them stood up, one next to the other. The girl wasn't much shorter than Connor, and she could feel her hand on his, like soft feathers rubbing against his skin.
Taking a steady breath, the two of them walked towards the setting sun in the far away.
---
... Beep...
... Beep... Beep...
... Beep... Beep... Beep...
His head felt dizzy. His fingers and toes twitched, and he could feel drops of sweat falling down his forehead and chest. His eyes were making circles inside his eyelids. Slowly, he tried to open them, this time achieving so with much less difficulty than before.
At first, the light that was directly on top of him was blinding, but after blinking a couple of times he was able to adjust to it. He could feel two tubes plugged to one of his nostrils each, as well as the thin layer of cloth that protected him from the exposure to the elements. He was laying down, and this was a hospital. But the green walls and the white ceiling were both proof that this wasn't the same hospital as the one from his nightmare. In front of him, he could notice a shut white door on the far right, and to his center and left a large window that was shut down with white blinds.
He could feel a gentle weight pressed on top of his left leg. Making an effort, he managed to move his head to see what it was. And, resting with her eyes closed and breathing steadily right next to his bed on a chair, was Alexis. Still with the red beanie on, wearing everyday clothes as if she were about to go to school. She was sound asleep, with her head resting on his thigh and her arms acting as pillow. When seeing her, Connor couldn't help but form a smile. He then saw further back, and there was Mikey, sleep just as her on a different chair that was resting on the wall of the room, still with his glasses on, and even drooling a little. Connor felt that he was smiling like an idiot, and a tear was falling down his face.
Suddenly, Alexis' eyes started fluttering open. When she noticed Connor looking at her, she perched up instantly, and rushed towards him, engulfing him in a hug, as she sobbed heavily. Connor hugged her back. Neither of them said anything for a good five minutes, when Mikey woke up as well, and reached Connor's right side of the bed, a few evidences of tears on the verge of his eyes as well. He squatted next to his bedside, hardly believing his foster brother was awake once again.
-"D-Don't e-ever s-sca-care me l-like t-t-that a-again—!"—Alexis cried, holding on to Connor, as he patted her head.
-"Dude... you gave us such a fright."—Mikey said, scoffing near the end of the sentence—"You sure are one lucking bastard... you... you..."
-"You could've d-died...!"—Alexis cried further.
-"I'm... sorry... Mikey... Al..."
Both Mikey and Alexis took their distance from him. They both watched him as he spoke.
-"I'm... sorry... for... everything..."—Connor said.
-"No... No, no I'm sorry!"—Alexis said, still sobbing and whimpering—"I've been so selfish, and childish, and...! And... I almost lost you..."
Connor took Alexis' hand in his, and caressed it tenderly.
-"You would... never loose me..."—he said softly, then taking Alexis' pinky finger into his, and binding them together like they did when promising something—"Always... take care... of each other... right?"
Alexis dried off her tears with her free arm, and then nodded her head in agreement.
-"Right..."—she said.
Connor then turned towards Mikey.
-"I'm sorry... Mikey... If I ever was... A dick, to you... For no reason..."
Mikey laughed a bit, shaking his head, clearly thinking Connor was being delusional.
-"What was in those painkillers they gave you...?"—he asked.
Connor just resorted to scoff and pat Mikey's arm. After composing himself a bit, he tried to sit up straight, and managed to do so to some extent. Then, without waiting for another minute, he asked what was eating him inside.
-"Is she... is she ok?"
Both Alexis and Mikey looked at each other with weary eyes. Clearly they knew whom Connor was talking about. Mikey spoke first.
-"The girl you rescued from the water, she's..."
-"... She's here as well."—Alexis concluded—"She's in bad shape, but... but they say she'll make it. Connor, the doctors said... they said you saved her..."
Connor could feel himself crying again.
-"I did...? Did I... Did I save... Did I save Nicola?"
At this, both Mikey and Alexis went pale, looked at each other with concern, and then back at Connor.
-"Connor..."—Alexis whispered to him—"Did you... did you just say...?"
Connor started shaking his head in denial.
-"It... It wasn't... It wasn't her...?"
Mikey looked at his feet, and Alexis bit her lower lip. Then, she shook her head in negation.
-"No, Connor..."—she revealed—"The girl, the one who jumped into the water... her name... her name is..."
Connor saw how the door of his room opened, revealing two nurses entering out of the blue, followed by a doctor. A doctor he couldn't help but feel like he had seen before. He was tall, very well-built, and bulky. His strong semblance was only complimented by his complete lack of hair on his head. He was very tan for a man his age (he must have been in his fifties), and had several wrinkles on his face and hands.
And then, Connor noticed why he seemed so familiar. Because those piercing blue eyes couldn't be anyone else's.
-"I see you are awake, Connor."—said the man,with a deep, steady voice, yet somehow, friendly and caring to the ear—"My nameis Doctor Shaun Mellet. I wanted to come here, and thank you, personally... forsaving my daughter's life."
---
A/N
...
... So, yeah.
I don't know how sleep works lol
See ya soon, you crazy lot!
--Coffee