Simon's P.O.V.
The blank stare was the worst part of it. The eyes that never seemed to focus on anything, the ears that didn't hear my words and the person that didn't seem to see me or feel my touch. He was there physically but him, his personality, his mind, his person, wasn't there anymore. He was absent.
The doctors didn't really know what to call it because it wasn't a vegetative state, he was awake and able to move if prompted but he wasn't all there. He had no response to verbal stimuli, didn't even seem to hear the words anyone spoke, and barely responded to both pain and visual stimuli and even that reaction was slow and took several seconds.
But still, I looked after him. I couldn't let him go into care, I couldn't pawn him off to someone else even though he wasn't the boy I used to know anymore. He was my responsibility, and I would look after him till the end of time.
It was a complete accident that he ended up this way, and I really couldn't fault anyone for it. There was a collision between Lachlan's car and another random car at quite high speeds, the occupant of the other car was killed and Lachlan ended up with severe, debilitating, brain damage that meant he spent 6 months in hospital.
"Come on Lachy." I whispered, even though I knew he couldn't hear me. He only stirred when I placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, his eyes blinking slowly and staring blankly up at the ceiling, seeing nothing.
I had to lead him through everything, show him which motions to make, do essentially everything for him and once he was dressed and awake I tugged him gently to his feet. He stumbled a little and barely remained on his feet, but he did.
"Come on you." I said, already exhausted. "Breakfast time."
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I slid down the now closed door, burying my head in my knees. I burst into tears just like I did every night because holy shit- I didn't think I could cope with it anymore. I couldn't work and look after Lachlan, he needed full-time care, but I couldn't let him go into care, I knew that.
"God, what am I going to do?" I whispered, begging for someone to listen.
But of course there was no one.
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Even the rest of the Sidemen could see the deterioration, but not in me, no. Lachlan was deteriorating very rapidly and over the space of a few weeks things suddenly fell apart underneath me and there was nothing I could do.
Vikk noticed first, confirming the worries I had been having for a few days.
"He's not as there as much, is he?" He asked, referring to the fact that he seemed to be even more absent than before. I nodded.
"He's even less responsive, he's taking longer to wake up and he doesn't want to stand on his own." I said, brushing some of his hair out of his eyes. "He doesn't want to eat either."
Vikk sat down on the side of the bed and started going through the exercises the therapist did to check his response time. First you press on the soles of his feet, then ankles, then knees, thighs, stomach, hands, etc. and then check how long it took for him to look around and see who was touching him.
"Almost 10 seconds." Vikk said, his forehead wrinkled with worry. "That's double the time from last month."
It took me another few minutes to get the worries I had been having out into the air because if anyone knew what to do, then it was Vikk. He was the sensible level headed one when it came to emotions because even though Lachlan was one of his closest friends he had learned to overcome the fact that it was never going to be the same.
Me on the other hand, not so much. He had been my boyfriend, he still was, but half the time I treated him like the same person who would record or laugh or joke with me when he wasn't that person anymore. He didn't even recognise me, but I didn't want to believe that.
"I'm scared Vikk..." I whispered, still playing with his hair. "What if he's... dying? The doctor said he wouldn't have a very long life but they said like 10 years, not 2. I don't want him to go."
Vikk moved a little closer.
"Simon, the Lachlan you knew died in that car crash. You have to accept that he isn't going to come back from this, there isn't going to be a miracle where you wake up and he's back to normal. This damage is permanent, and if he is dying then maybe it's better that way."
"What kind of a life is he living like this? He doesn't recognise anyone and doesn't respond to verbal stimuli, you have to help him with everything. This isn't Lachlan, as much as you try to tell yourself that. He's gone Simon."
That wasn't what I wanted to hear, but a niggling thought in the back of my head told me that it was what I needed to hear. Lachlan was never coming back and I had to accept that, even if I didn't want to. The boy I knew was gone, replaced by a mind that didn't know who I was.
"Maybe... maybe you're right. I can't move on with him here because... even though I know it's impossible, there's still some stupid hope that everything'll be better one day." Vikk interrupted my rant.
"It's not stupid Simon, having hope isn't stupid. No matter how improbable it is you still have hope, but I think it's time to move on. Make the most of having him here beside you and then once he's moved on, cherish the memories you had with him, with the Lachlan you knew."
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The end came sooner than I think anyone thought it would, but maybe it was a mercy. By the end he was barely even responding to physical stimuli and had slipped into some sort of coma which was how I knew the end was going to come.
It came less than 6 months after my conversation about moving on with Vikk, and I felt guilty when his death lifted the heavy burden I had been carrying off my heart.
I was sad, yes, heartbroken even, but finally he could be at peace and the emotions I had held onto for far too long could be at peace as well. I could remember Lachlan as the bright and happy, loud energetic boy I love so much rather than the one I had for the last 2 and a half years of his life.
He was only suffering living like that, and I could be happy knowing he was in a better place. Sure I might have been left alone without him but I had my friends and family and I had comfort in knowing that he was at rest.
My heart was at rest too and finally, finally, I could move on.
I no longer had to be burdened by the presence of someone I didn't know, the constant thought that he was still in there somewhere, listening, and that he was suffering. He wasn't suffering any longer and in fact his last moments may have been more peaceful than any other, slipping away in his sleep.
Both he and I were at peace now he was absent from my life both in mind and body, not just mind.
"I'll always love you." I whispered to the grave, a familiar site. "I'll never forget you, or the love you gave me."