Scarlett’s brows knitted together slightly, her expression now somewhat reminiscent as she shifted through the days events “well, some football player managed to pierce his bottom lip with his teeth, there was blood everywhere…and this poor boy managed to break his collar bone after tripping down a set of stairs, and that’s just the start of it” she laughed, somewhat breathlessly as though she’d just been pushing through the busy corridors “I won’t disagree with you, you certainly know how to make an entrance” she settled with a small incline of her head, a warm smile lingering on her painted lips. Resting her right elbow on the arm of the chair she absentmindedly began playing with the ring on her index finger, watching the man before her curiously.
Her brows rose in surprise “oh, I didn’t do anything really…” she dismissed his comments; it was her job after all. If she didn’t do it, then who would? “Anyway-you um, you’ll probably wish you were still unconscious once my motor mouth kicks in” she jested lightly, tilting her head on a slight angle. Scarlett wondered how long it would be until the press begun rolling through the doors, when he was brought to the hospital he made the news. Part of her was surprised he hadn’t already been bombarded by reporters, all eager to know his story- though they would more than likely be severely disappointed for he could offer them one, not for now at least. It was no doubt frustrating for him, but Scarlett was intrigued. Shifting her position, she drew her hand up under her chin and allowed it to rest on the palm of her hand “and in any case, I think I should be the one thanking you. For allowing me to chew off your ear with my consistent chatter over the past several months”
“Renewed. I like that” she nodded considerately; it sounded more positive as opposed to the other alternatives, and positivity and optimism was something that he no doubt needed at this point in time. Scarlett’s gaze began to wander around the room, she hadn’t noticed how tiny it was until now, if it weren’t his lack of past that was irking him, claustrophobia surely might. Hopefully he wouldn’t have to be bed-bound for much longer. A quiet sigh escaped her lips and she returned her attention to the man before her, his smile proving to be contagious, as she could feel the corners of her mouth tug further upward “true, though, I’ll admit I’m beginning to feel like a Disney Princess” she laughed, before drawing her hands up to her face, she’d been smiling so much that her cheeks had begun to ache.
She flinched, somewhat involuntarily as he began playing with the cord, a reflexive response. Scar was so used to children attempting to pull out the shunt, that it had become second nature to leap forward to stop them. However, she quickly relaxed again, shaking her head slowly at her sudden panic. Her gaze followed his, up toward the ceiling as if too, searching. As he spoke again, her gaze swiftly turned to him again, and she gave him a gentle nod “no, I don’t see it. When I look at you I see something unique- John Doe is hardly that” she smiled. Scar clicked her tongue thoughtfully as he listed a few names “I like Christopher…” she said, tilting her head from side to side her gaze still focused steadily upon him “call me completely mad- I don’t know why but you kinda look like a Dimitri” she laughed lightly “well then, I guess that’s sort of bitter-sweet” she paused for a moment, a amused tugging at the corners of her lips “oh no, nothing trivial like that I assure you… just where I hid the bodies of my victims” she joked.
His gazed at Scarlett expectant as she told her the events that took place two days ago, his face contorted a little as he pictured it. He was slightly distracted at how she reminisced though, maybe she had a vivid memory about it. It bothered him that though she sees these kind of things—possibly more of them worst, she could still muster out a bright smile to patients. “Well certainly just the beginning of the chaos, I can’t imagine what the next scenarios were, probably just know that it’s worst, huh?” a low chuckle coming out from his mouth. He matched the warm smile she gave him, “It’s probably how I was before, making dramatic entrances. Maybe.” His face a mixture of amusement and curiosity, a low chuckle coming out of his mouth.
His mouth quirk up a smile at her humbleness, he did wondered for two days if anyone actually stayed or visited him, either a nurse, janitor just anyone—he never really expected to be relieved when he’d get his answer. And it really felt good, to know. If anyone else did what she did, he’d thank them just as much. “Please, you gave me a time of day, even though you knew I’d never respond in any way.” He urged on, just wanted to reach out to her just how much it meant to him what she did. He laughed heartily, shaking his head. “Well, I’m still talking to you know, so that’s a false assumption if you ask me.” It probably wasn’t a big deal for her, but it was for him. He wondered though what made her a bit embarrassed with her talking, it’s pleasant to talk to her. “Ha, yes. I am glad to be of service—at least my ears were.” He laughed a little. “Even though I couldn’t really remember any of them. I wish I could actually hear back then, it’ll probably keep me entertained when I was in a coma. That’s probably ridiculous because then I would have been awake already.” He shook his head at his silliness, he guessed having slept for a very long time, his mind wasn’t exactly making sense at times.
He nodded in response from her of his choice of words, he guessed it showed that he was optimistic, as supposed to the opposite. Some of the nurses expressed their surprise when he wasn’t exactly bursting in a fit most of the time—though he actually felt that at times he did want to. But never really acted on it. Though it’ll probably inevitably build up and would that would most likely be the outcome—but with the people being kind and supportive and having met Scarlett now, his mind shifted away from the idea. From talking with her, he’s pretty much optimistic. His face lit up in amusement, tilting his head as he looked at her carefully, “Uh huh, yes. That’s the perfect description. Let’s say you are a Disney princess now, eh?” his mind vaguely remembered them, he didn’t really know just how or why he did. He just, did. “Probably better the princesses than the villains?” he mused as she chuckled.
Since all throughout he’d been looking at her, he noticed the flinch from her, it was only a split second though, seeing as she was looking relaxed yet again. And so he didn’t think of addressing it anymore. Instead his attention turned to choosing names. His brows shot up slightly, “Really, thank you. I could have been one with the common name though.” He said, returning the smile. He nodded at Christopher, and a little surprised at her next statement. “I’d hardly call you mad.” He chuckled. “But Dimitri eh, definitely on unique name. What are the odds of me having that exact name huh?” he mused. “Dimitri huh… would you try calling me that?” he looked at her, wanting to test it out, it’ll get a lot of getting used to, especially when he would remember his real name—but since that’s about impossible for now, this’ll have to do at the moment. “Oh really? Well now, that’s certainly a plot twist.” An amused look on his face. “You’re sure as safe from getting in trouble with the police if that’s the case.” He said, playing along.
Scarlett nodded firmly in agreement, he was right, her job- the hospital’s job was to help others even those who outright refused their aid. That is what attracted her to the field initially, the more she thought about it, the more the edges of her cherry coated lips tilted upward. It was an extraordinary feeling, something she could not accurately describe; watching a patient who had been through so much, pass through the hospital doors after being discharged, free from the machinery, the horrid looking hospital gown, with a smile plastered to their faces as they returned to the arms of their loved ones. Scar’s pale blue eyes met his again, she hoped that he would have the same experience, that she would be there to witness him in his moment of freedom from this place “you’re right, it is worth it- in the end”
Brushing the creases from her coat with a gentle flick of her hand, her smile continued to broaden as his laughed filled the air, it was strange, though pleasant to hear him talk, to laugh as opposed to the singular monotonous beeping of machinery that echoed through the tiny room. Catching her bottom lip with her teeth, she gave him a small bow of her head in confirmation “yeah…it was me” she admitted, brushing a lose strand of hair behind her right ear “I was informing you of the chaos on level two” she laughed again, throwing her hands up in the air spiritedly “what a day for you to wake- the emergency room was packed, we were understaffed, total madness” she joked. Her smile faltered for a moment, as she considered his question. Her eyes trailed down the length of the machine and slowly turned to him once more “I was. It was just a matter of time, waiting it out. Sometimes, I’d sit here after my shift and just wait…hoping you might move, even just the slightest. I suppose my patients finally paid off” though her gaze was focused upon him, she seemed to be looking past him, through him. She spoke as if talking to herself, like a spoken thought. It wasn’t until a few moments after ward she realized what she’d just said, a look of embarrassment washing over her. She probably sounded crazy- pursing her lips she averted her gaze.
“No- no it’s alright, I should just keep my big mouth shut, I mean, I can’t begin to imagine what it’s like- I only wish I could help in some way. All the staff do. You’d be amazed by how many people want to help” she added, gently she rocked on her heels, a habit of hers she hadn’t looked to have outgrown from when she was a child. Scar slapped a hand to her forehead and heaved a sigh “is it really that bad? I don’t mean to be…it’s just- I don’t even know myself. I swear I’m not usually like this, well, at least not this bad” she fumbled over her words, It was as though she had too much to drink- which of course, in reality she hadn’t, but her mind felt as though it had been scattered, much like her speech.
Making herself comfortable in the well-worn armchair, she looked up at him and batted a hand lightly “it’s fine” she dismissed, with a light shake of her head. Clasping her hands together in a ball, she rested them on her lap, her brows knitting together tightly, thoughtfully “well, it doesn’t have to be that way…” she began, her tone considerate “you could always give yourself a name, until you can remember your real one. Have some individuality, besides, you don’t look quite like a John to me” she added, a soft smile crossing her lips. Her brows lifted in surprise and her jaw dropped slightly “really?” she blinked, “well-erm I suppose it wouldn’t be weird, I mean, I did talk to you quite a lot, that to me sounds weirder” she said, drawing a hand up to her forehead “you were kind of like a-a friend, a silent, friend” she confessed, turning her attention to her hands.
He saw the happy expression that plastered on her face, glad that he could somehow make her feel better. He nodded, his own smile plastered on his face. The smile broadening slightly as she confirmed it was her, and he nodded silently, listening to her intently. “And what was the chaos on level two?” he asked, “Since I didn’t really caught on with your story then.” A casual laugh coming from his lips as he joined her, “I guess I like to make an entrance when everyone’s busy.” He joked with a gentle shrug, his chuckle following through. He shifted slightly on his bed, leaning back more, being so relaxed, he didn’t really feel that he woke up just two days ago, instead felt like he’s never been in a coma. He’s probably exaggerating, but talking to her, laughing so casually, it felt nice. Really nice.
His eyes searched for hers and for a moment he was a bit scared that he might be wrong, that he’d assumed it—but her eyes met his again and what he heard was the opposite of what he feared, he almost sighed audibly, his feeling resting at ease. It’s just really good to know that someone was actually hoping he woke up, the fact that it came from her was definitely a plus. Hearing the rest of her statement made him even feel better. His gaze never left hers and his smile broad, he felt lucky that someone was here and stayed with him, the feeling of extreme loneliness decreased immensely and replaced with the feeling of being cared for, something that he was familiar with, but only felt now. He guessed it has something to do with his past, but this was enough for now. “I uh, I really can’t thank you enough.” A light chuckle before continuing, “It was nice to know I wasn’t alone here most of the time. And someone visited, it feels good.” The fact that it was two days and no one was coming up to him and introducing themselves as family, he already knew that no one in his family—or if he ever had one—was visiting him. It was his third day, if he had that caring and loving family, they would probably surround him and never left him till he regained his memories. “Thank you.”
His eyebrows shot up and he shook his head, an easy smile on his face, “Oh, please no, it’s fine really.” He said immediately, chuckling once before continuing, “Just feel free to say anything, I’d rather everyone’s honest and direct with me since I’m basically—renewed, for the lack of better word.” He nodded at her, knowing everyone wants to help in every way they can, all of them were eager to help, though it would be hard sometimes when they would look at you like you’re going to be like forever. “It’s fine really, you guys couldn’t really give back my memories with just a snap. No one can.” A low chuckle came from his lips, “But I do appreciate it, thanks.” His thoughts and worries pushed back as he watched her amused, “Yeah, it was that bad.” He answered, nodding slowly, trying to stifle a smile from forming on his lips, but in the end he couldn’t keep the façade and he gave in, smiling at her. “No, it wasn’t really. You’re fine, no need to worry about it. It’s just better to see smiles, don’t you think?”
He couldn’t erase the smile on his face, though he didn’t really attempted to anyway. His hands resting on his lap, one hand slightly playing with the cord injected on his hand that connected to his IV. His interest piqued as she said it didn’t have to be John Doe, and he listened to her, considering her suggestion. He nodded, “Yeah, I suppose you’re right, that would be better than having to be another John Doe.” His eyes darted upward, as if there were a list of names he can choose from the ceiling. He looked back at her, “Not a John?” his mouth formed a lopsided smile as he looked at her expectantly, “Well, what name would you think suit me? Charles perhaps? Or, or… James, Christopher?” he said, remembering some names he’d heard in his two days in the hospital. “Yes, it’s a faint memory, but it matches with my memory before I woke up.” He smiled, taking in her look of surprise, and possibly growing embarrassment. “I suppose it is weird,” he agreed, but not the kind of bad weird, it didn’t bother him much. “I’m glad I got to be a friend, albeit silent. I guess I wished that maybe I was able to actually listen to what you were saying.” He wondered just how many times she talked to him; what were the things she talked about, if she vented or shared her secrets with him. “If you ever told me you had a crush on a certain nurse here while I was asleep, I guess your secret is sure as safe with me since I don’t remember it.” He joked lightly, casually laughing.
Another airy laugh escaped her painted lips, this time however, it was different, less reserved, and no without a doubt louder than before; causing the brunette to cover her mouth with the back of her free hand “I know, it’s terrible- not just for you either, I mean, even the medical staff don’t enjoy watching patients being jabbed and whatnot. I know I don’t feel exactly fantastic when I have to try and wrestle a ten year old who’s terrified of needles to give them an injection” she sighed, her brows knitting together slightly, forming a crookedly elongated line across her forehead. Scar’s lips pursed slightly as she recalled the event, it was all a hectic blur, she remembered leaving the room in an ecstatic panic- her head a buzz, though she didn’t seem to be consciously thinking, she was on autopilot as she raced down the corridor, forgetting her pager which had fallen out of her pocket as she dashed from the room, grabbing the cuff of Dr Cooper, a close friend of hers, who too, had been assigned to their John Doe’s care.
“Well, sort of yes- when you showed signs of movement I was there but I left the room to grab Dr Cooper, and, it was all so frantic, I didn’t get the chance to actually witness you wake…I got lost in the swarm of machinery and people that came rushing into the room” she admitted, a light stroke of pink tinting her cheeks. Clearing her throat quietly, she slipped her pen back into the breast pocket of her coat and placed her clipboard on the bedside table, choosing to busy herself with the machinery, tinkering with the dials until she looked somewhat satisfied “you’re lucky, you know. To be honest none of the medical staff were sure you would wake…” she added quietly, taking a quick glance in his direction, a somewhat solemn look upon her face “and, I know it’s hard now, but if you take things a day at a time, try not to fixate yourself to trying to remember the past, it may just happen sooner than you think” she tried to sound positive, in truth, Scar knew that there was a possibility he mightn’t regain all his memories with his extensive injuries, but, if there was one thing she knew- anything was possible, if he were able to wake when the odds were ultimately stacked against him, surely he could get through this. She hoped he would.
Scarlett’s brows rose, and she looked momentarily startled “oh- yes I’m fine. Goodness, I must be displaying really odd behaviour for a patient to ask me whether I’m alright” she jested light-heartedly, dropping her hands to her sides. Turning to face him properly, she did as he asked, permitting a smile to cross her lips- it wasn’t forced, nor was it mocking it was the smile she so often wore when she dealt with younger patients, children, it was nurturing and gentle. But it didn’t last long, as she reverted back to her somewhat robotic self, that was the façade she often used when dealing with difficult patients, though, of course he was anything but, though she felt the need to distance herself and it was the only way she knew how. Turning on her heel, she went to leave the room, only to be stopped by three little words. For moment she stood, uncertain, her left foot barely touching the ground as she had stopped mid-step.
If she weren’t at work, she’d have probably, childishly stomped her foot and whined in her uncertainty of what to do- that’s usually what she resorted to, or she’d have just continued to stand there, frozen in place. Sometimes, she hated that she had this immense fear of disappointing people, or hurting them, sometimes her heart was too generous; she was the woman who would take in twenty strays, the one who’d help the drunken man on the side of the road stumble back home. Or more to the point, she struggled saying no. With a gentle nod, Scar returned to face him, glancing down at her watch “I suppose I could stay for five minutes or so, the next patient isn’t due to have their medication until twelve” she said, batting a hand dismissively. Making her way toward the chair at his bedside, she allowed herself to fall into it. It was familiar, comfortable, though everything had changed “so uhm…you don’t remember anything, not even your name?” she asked, curiosity swirling in her opaque eyes.
The laugh that emanated from her lips made him smile, the familiarity of it still seemed uncanny to him, but he found that it didn’t matter much as they talked. And somehow things felt rather less awkward, even just for a bit. And he was more than happy to see her being comfortable, she looked like someone whom he was conversing to naturally, like a stranger you meet somewhere, rather than a nurse to patient. His own chuckle joined in with her and died down shortly, “Yes, I didn’t put it like that much, but you’re right.” He nodded gently as he watched the obvious dislike look that settled onto her. “I can’t imagine just how you deal with it, but it is for their- our own good. It’ll all be worth it in the end.” He offered a smile to her. He imagine she was one of the friendly nurses and is often more of a sister to the children than the nurse she was.
It was indeed frantic, he only had so much of moments to himself before his room was a storm of machines, doctors and nurses. He guessed he was too overwhelmed with it all and he couldn’t focus on one person at a time. “It was crazy, yeah. Well, I’m just glad I get to see the one who was here before I woke up.” He let out a chuckle. “I’m sure it was your voice that I heard just a while before I woke up, hm?” he inquired, a genuine look of curiosity on his face, despite his question to be a bit teasing. He continued to watch her still as she busied herself with the machines, he didn’t have anything to do but that anyway, he just wished he wouldn’t be looking like a complete creep. They had that pregnant pause before she spoke again, and he took in the change in her tone, and then her words. If it were different, if he wasn’t the one comatose, he’d probably be thinking he won’t either, but she was right, he was indeed lucky. He nodded in response and considered what she said, “Except… you?” he asked curiously, “I guess- at least I hope that you were at least positive in me waking up.” He hope he wasn’t just assuming, that she indeed did, but with the lack of ‘we’ in her sentence, it seemed unlikely that he was. He caught her solemn gaze, her words affecting him slowly , feeling a bit doubtful but at the same time hopeful that she was right. “I guess you’re right. I just couldn’t help it thought, it frustrates me to no end that I know nothing about what happened, and my life basically.” A bitter laugh escaped his mouth before he could stop it. He knew she said it for him to not worry so much, so he shook his head, “Sorry, can’t really help it. But I’ll try to take it one day at a time.”
He chuckled casually, shaking his head lightly, “Not so much as odd, but maybe uneasy.” His smile rested easily on his face, it lit up even more as she did smile. Yeah, he nodded slightly, he’d prefer seeing that smile of hers anytime. But the moment ended just as she was preparing to leave, done with checking on him, and he was afraid for a moment that she won’t take his request, and he understands of course, but it doesn’t mean he won’t be a tad disappointed. He watched with a sad look upon his face as she made her way to the door, and he was glad he decided to just blurt it out, seeing her stop at his mention of staying. He tried to hide that triumphant smile on his face, as she stayed there, completely thinking about it, but he’s sure she’s definitely staying for a while.
Five minutes, he nodded, that was enough, so long as he could spend a longer time with her. He was calmer right now than the past two days. “Thank you,” he said sincerely as she made her way towards the chair that was beside his bed, he assumed it was the same one she on when she saw him waking up. He quirked an eyebrow at her before she asked her question, he chuckled once, before he nodded, “Yes, I tried to remember, but nothing came to mind.” He gave a glance and shook his head, “And that’s I might only introduce myself as John Doe, along with other John Doe’s in the hospital.” He shrugged, an amused smile on his face. “Though this might sound weird, but I do remember your voice. I guess you were talking to me? I couldn’t make out the words though… I actually thought it was only created in my mind, like a dream. But here you are.”
Scarlett who had a keen eye, noticed the reflex- she was used to dealing with flinching and wincing, it was practically part of the job description though, for some reason, one even she couldn’t seem to place her finger on it made her feel somewhat wounded, and it was without a doubt reflected in her expression. Perhaps it was because she had become accustomed to his comatose state, accepting and without judgement whatever she had to say he would listen, no matter how much she babbled on, or complained it was in a way, comforting to know that she had someone to share her thoughts with. Or perhaps it was that maybe, secretly, she held onto the hope that he might remember her, know her name, recalled their or- more accurately her convocations. Of course, she was elated that he had woken- that she had been there in that moment, but it was different now.
With a gentle shake of her head, she composed herself, after all she was a nurse she shouldn’t be so fixated on such things. Her sapphire eyes returned to the upright figure, who had offered her a smile, which she almost hastily returned “yes, but uh…as I’m sure you’re more than over being poke and prodded I can assure you that I’m just here to get your readings” she spoke lightly, almost airily as she gestured to the various machines at his bedside with a pen she had removed from the breast pocket of her stark white overcoat. Scar hesitated for a moment, his question, though simple had stumped her- though why should it? Embarrassment maybe? Again, she was being ridiculous. Making her way toward the machines she held her clipboard against her hip, scribbling down notes “and to answer your question is, no…” she began, shifting her gaze between the monitor and her clipboard.
A quiet laugh escaped her cherry painted lips, laced with slight humiliation “while you were comatose I was assigned to check up on during my rounds- when you woke I came to check up on you and well-” she paused for a moment, and her pen ceased its scrabbling as she turned her gaze toward him “here you are” she smiled lopsidedly, with a gentle shrug of her shoulders “I overheard the doctor’s saying you’ve got one of the most serve cases of retrograde amnesia they’ve come across in quite some time” she blurted, unable to stop herself and only after, had it occurred to her that her statement might only distress him more. Her eyes darted between him and the monitors as she looked for something to say. Pursing her lips tightly, her shoulders visibly rose and fell under her coat as she inhaled deeply “but, that doesn’t mean you won’t regain the memory you’ve lost, of course, it’ll just take time- I’ve seen many amnesic patients able to recover a lot of their memories”
Part of her wished she fall into a coma now and save them both the humiliation. All professionalism looked to have seeped through the door, and it made her feel uncomfortable. When she wasn’t stoned faced and taciturn as she usually was while at the hospital she would revert to her normal self, her rambling, motor-mouthed self which she saved for her life outside the hospital. Maybe it was because she hadn’t treated him like a patient, not a conventional one at least while in his coma more like a friend, a confidant. Something a professional would never do, but who else was there? He’d had no family or friends to accompany him for those immobile months, only her and occasionally the chief of staff- it was difficult not to take on the role “well, everything appears to be fine” she concluded, a clear shift in her tone, it was more restrained, proper “I’m sure they’ll allow you to start taking short walks around the ward soon enough”
It was disconcerting. There was just something about her voice- and he was sure it was hers- because he remembers it, to think he would remember nothing but her gentle voice. But now he was listening to the voice he thought was only an imagination before, something that his subconscious mind had made. He immediately scratched the idea that maybe she had been part of his past, but looking at the person in front of him, it wasn’t the case at all. Though it did seem that she had that slight recognition of him. Nevertheless, the fact that he remembered something was of importance to him, the vast emptiness of his mind simply scared him, and her voice- or simply her- if there was something more, he could hold onto to her at the moment. He offered another small smile, realizing just how much pondering he was doing. There was an awkwardness between them, it’s not surprising, seeming as they only met, but when you recognize someone’s voice and couldn’t remember much else, it was a different kind of awkward.
He couldn’t help but chuckle lightly, shaking his head, “If I told you I don’t mind, I would be lying.” He admitted, for two days, surrounded by nurses, doctors all up his ass, examining, asking questions. It was only that day he had a rest from them. Though he appreciated her assuring him, she seemed nice- but of course all nurses and doctors are towards patients- but he could feel she was a nice person, friendly even. He noticed that it took a moment for her to answer his question, he watched with a curious gaze as she made his way towards the machines. His brows shot up, then he recovered from the slight surprise, he guessed it explained the recognition she had with him. His face turned towards her hearing her laugh, and again it was familiar, and it made him smile. He took in her story, “Ah, so you were here when I woke up? Why didn’t I see you there?” he asked in confusion, he wondered lightly what would be the difference if she was there the moment he woke up.
He returned the smile with his own, “But yes well, here I am indeed.” With no recollection of what happened to him, it was upsetting, more frustrating than not that he couldn’t remember a thing, but he tried to hide that, tried to keep it away because he knew he might just get angry at anyone, and it would be just pointless. His attention turned to her again as she told him about his condition. It should have upset him, but it seemed that the way she said it was innocent, that she was simply sharing something. He simply looked at her, unable to say anything, because whatever the doctor said is true. Severe Retrograde Amnesia. He had no idea what his amnesia really was, he’d probably have to ask later. Nonetheless, it was still amnesia and he had no memories. He was unable to hide the smile as she looked troubled with what she said, it was quite endearing to see. He nodded, “Yes well, I still hope I can regain them soon. But thank you.”
He knew without a doubt that it was impossible, and knows that what she said was true, it would take some time, he didn’t know how long, how long did he had to wait just for him to regain his memories back. The thought that he’d have to live each day with nothing of his past. He hadn’t much thought about past that, of what he would do, having to distract himself with doctors and nurses. He just wished he didn’t have to, he might not get an answer or a solution to it anyway. He pulled away from his thoughts yet again, wanting to get distracted. Looking at her, she seemed to be feeling awkward, seeing as she was quite troubled again. “Are you alright?” he asked with a polite smile. “I don’t really mind what you said, so… how about a smile?” he looked at her expectantly, though it may be quite endearing he preferred to have her smile at him, rather than awkward. He noticed the change of her actions, and he knew she was back to nurse mode, and if she was finished it would only mean she’d have to return to her duties, would it be selfish of him to keep her there? He hadn’t felt relaxed in talking to anyone for the past two days and it felt good. “Could you stay?” the words slipped his lips suddenly, all thoughts of subtleness jumped out and he just… said it. “I mean, if that’s okay. I’m sure you have other patients to attend to. But it would be nice to have some company now and then.” He tried not to look as embarrassed as possible, hopefully his smile would hide it.
It had been like any other day, the corridors a buzz with people, doctors, nurses, hunched over patients, and anxiously waiting family members crowded together on the terribly uncomfortable seating available. Scarlett had become accustomed to the sight, the noise, the anxiety. It wasn’t a matter of trying to cope with it- she had to. The ability of keeping a level head in a life or death situation wasn’t something that came natural to her, but it was an aptitude she had to develop quickly, something she was never told in her lectures at University. Neither was she taught to keep all emotional attachments to her patient’s supressed. It was ironic in a way; those in the medical profession needed hearts of stone, and yet harbour the ability to sympathise with grieving loved ones; a contradiction with a slender line between.
Doing her usual rounds, with a clipboard held tightly to her chest as she waded through the halls, Scarlett made her way to room C127. Approaching the room, she gently pushed the pale blue door open. The patient inside was a mystery- a John Doe. No one had come to see him since he was admitted, not even his family, or his friends. Comatose, and with no identification, not even a driver’s licence he lay under the sea-green sheets passive and tranquil. Permitting herself a small, somewhat saddened smile, she made her way to his bedside “me again” she laughed quietly, checking his respiration rate on the monitor situated between the bed and a row of cabinets.
Scarlett scribbled down a his heart rate, and blood pressure swiftly before placing her clipboard down on the nearby table before returning her attention to him once more- it was good to talk to coma patients, they could hear though unfortunately any convocation that was had was one-way. Glancing over her shoulder warily, Scarlett proceeded to sit in the navy armchair she would often take residence in when visiting room C127. With no one to keep him company, Scarlett often took it upon herself to take on the task, even it were only for a few spare moments “you wouldn’t believe the morning I’ve had, some guy who’d been playing football came in with his bottom teeth through his lip- the mess was ridiculous…not to mention the amount of stiches he needed” she murmured, studying his peaceful face.
Sheepishly she reached her hand out toward his, which lay on top of the covers and lightly touched his hand, which was surprisingly warm despite the slight chill in the air “you know, this might sound crazy but-” she began, only to trail off as she felt his hand shift under hers. Jumping to her feet, she looked toward the monitors; his pulse rate had increased significantly- he had begun to stir…
It had been two days since he had woken, and Scar had been forced to watch from afar as her colleagues, fellow doctors and nurses preformed tests, and scans, the police too had gone to question him but it seemed that little information was found. It wasn’t until her late shift that she was once again allowed to enter room C127. Peering through the tiny crack in the door, she nearly jumped in surprise as she saw their John Doe sitting upright in his bed, having become so accustomed to seeing him lying peacefully. Softly, she pushed open the door he clipboard held at her hip. It was strange- she wasn’t sure what to say, though she had spoken to him many times before, but it was different now, now that he was awake.
“Uhm..hi” she spoke timidly, somewhat cautiously like you would to a threatened animal, clearing her throat quietly she moved further into the room.
There was a constant sound, a beeping sound when it finally registered in his mind, it seem to rouse him from his sleep. His eyes started moving under his still closed eyes, movement was somewhat foreign to him for a moment as he tried to. Only to have his limb protest and ache from sleeping, but he didn’t stop until he could move his arms up slightly, feeling something attached to him as he did so. There was a lot going on and the more he couldn’t see, the more it scared him, even more with the sounds coming to a fast beat rather than the slow one it had before. His eyes finally opened and was suddenly blinded by the light, shutting it closed and using his hands as shield he blinked hard, until he could focus on his surroundings.
It was white, everything was; it was the first thing that came to him, because with his eyes darting from every area of the place his eyes could reach, the color white dominated over. The second thing was the machines, to his left and then to the right, there were machines, which explained the constant beep. It scared him that none of the things made sense to him, even to the slightest, and the fact that he was alone didn’t help. Sitting up, it required more effort than he thought it should, he took more a good look around, the fresh flowers on the side table along with other things and a clipboard, the chair just right beside his bed that seemed to be occupied not too long ago, and from there nothing much else, considering the room was small.
There was nothing in his mind, not even a foggy mess which he preferred, at least then he could just think it over. But having an empty mind did nothing. He dug deep, deeper even, he was clawing into the dirt just to find something that made sense to him. Nothing. Though there was something faint, like a voice or a touch, but it was a blur that even that didn’t almost count as anything for now. It was all he could think of from the past two days, among other things. His waking up seemed to have been an event in the hospital, nurses kept coming over, doctors come to check up, and surprisingly, police officers as well. It came to him as a shock that he was in a comatose for months now. Though not so much when the doctor told him about amnesia, it was pretty obvious, he couldn’t remember a thing for the life of him. The news had a harder impact on him than he thought it would; he remembered nothing, not even a name- his name. Nothing and he just felt empty, his mind actually thinking if it would be better if he just died in his accident.
Adjusting the pillows behind him, he slowly sat up, even after two days, it seemed he still found it hard to move freely on his own. He hadn’t even tried walking yet and wondered just how much effort he’d have to exert. His face away from the door and to the pillows, he didn’t notice nor hear anything until she spoke. He jumped slightly, still haven’t come accustomed to people that much. But when the voice passed through his ears, it registered in his mind; he remembered it. And he could only place it to the faint memory of the voice in his mind. “Hi,” it was awkward, so he gave her a smile, like he did with most nurses, “Here to check up on me, I assume.” He was looking at her, he was curious about her; if she was indeed that voice he heard while he was in coma. “It’s the first I’ve seen you. Is this your first time coming to my room?”