Carter wakes up in a hospital dorm, sunlight streaming through the curtains.

He sees a face looming over him, auburn hair illuminated by the slivers of light coming through the windows, warm brown eyes that remind him of a rainy day cuddled up in a blanket and cinnamon hot chocolate.

"Carter," rasps the boy's voice. It's hoarse, like he hasn't spoken in weeks. Tears start to stream from those chocolate-brown eyes of his.

"Carter, Carter, Carter," he repeats, "...finally, my Carter, my stupid idiot Carter, my Carter, Carter..." he continues, as if Carter's own name is his only salvation.

He bends down to put his damp cheek next to Carter's on the soft pillow, to share his warmth, to kiss his smile back to life.

"Carter," repeats Adrian.

"Who are you?" he replies.