He was still sleeping.
She was watching over him, as always, but he hadn't woken yet.
He had been sleeping like this for most of his life.
He just hadn't woken one day when he was three.
She called 911, but…
He kept sleeping.
We wasn't brain dead, that's all the doctors could agree on really. Some of them thought that at almost 13 years old it was time to stop his life support. Others thought she should keep praying and paying hospital bills and working four jobs and hardly getting the time to see her baby boy, because his mind was active.
He was dreaming.
"Do I have to go now?" A little girl's voice rang out down the ward.
She was a pretty little red head with a strong Scottish accent, she was adorable, but she had such an active imagination. Her Aunt spent most of her time with Amy, but her parents rarely got the chance to be with her.
Like her.
"Yes Amy, it's time to go home," Amy's aunt replied rolling her eyes just a little.
"But Mels and that boy are still here, and Clara's new, and I don't wanna go!" Amy argued. Amy's aunt sighed again and took hold of Amy's hand firmly.
"You're better now dear, and your friend Rory was released a few days ago," Amy's aunt told her softly, "You want to spent time with Rory don't you?"
"Yes…" Amy sighed sadly, "But I don't want to leave everyone else either."
"You'll have to though."
"I know."
With that Amy and her aunt finally made it out of the ward.
She watched them go.
Her son stirred again in his sleep and she snapped to attention.
There was a little tear in the corner of his eye. She wiped it away softly.
He turned his head away from her.
She sighed.
Melody River had been released again. She had been released twice now, only to be brought back when her 'visions' came back.
Melody thought she had killed someone, and occasionally she was convinced that it was the little boy down the ward from her. So the doctors made sure to always put her in the bed next to his, so she could see him breathe and move in his sleep.
But it seemed that this time she was actually cured, which was a nice change of pace.
But it could be that she would be back in a few weeks.
Clara Oswald (she called herself Os-Win, because she insisted that she always wins at every game), had been moved closer to the only boy left in the ward as well.
Clara sometimes spoke to him, the same way a number of other children throughout the years had done so.
Most notable had been Susan, in the early days who read him physics books (to make his smarter) and Rose about a year back, she had been glued to his side for a long time. Rose still came to visit every once in a while, but it had been quite a long time since she had last come.
The woman sometimes wondered what happened to all the children when they left.
Most of them had been attached to her son in some way, and a number of them hadn't wanted to leave him behind when they were better.
The boy in the bed stirred and groaned a littler and his mother looked down at him and Clara stopped chattering to him about the school work she had to complete.
His eyes fluttered a little, and he groaned sleepily again, and his arms twitched upwards like they wanted to rub his eyes, and…
He went still again.
His mother cried.
Clara pretended she didn't see.
The ward was empty save the little boy and his mother.
Clara had been checked out weeks ago, and although Melody had done another stint in the ward, she had also left.
There had been another boy for a little while, but he was very ill.
He didn't make it.
Her son cried in his sleep.
The mother wiped his hair of his face. She should get someone to cut it for him again soon, it was getting a bit long now. She had left it a bit long for a while…oh…a year or more, but it seemed time to cut it short again.
He'd had a visit from Rose, apparently the girl was starting secondary and didn't have much time for anything but school.
Her son had seemed to enjoy Rose's visit. He had smiled anyways when she squeezed his hand.
Sarah-Jane (one of the older children to have been on the ward, she was almost twenty now) had also stopped by for a short visit some time back and the little boy's forehead had furrowed like he couldn't remember her.
Sarah-Jane had cried a little.
The mother had cried more.
There had been three more children to pass through. One had died.
The little boy had another setback when his life support machine had malfunctioned and hadn't delivered enough oxygen and his nutrients were short.
For several days after that he had seemed just on the edge of waking.
He didn't.
It was nearly four months later that he stirred like he was waking again.
This time his eyes opened all the way and he tried to speak around the tube in his throat.
He panicked for a long moment at not being able to speak, not knowing where he was, and not recognizing the three children sitting around him (his newest companions, a little girl of about 4, her older brother, and another little boy who was maybe 9).
"Thee!" A young woman's voice called across the ward.
It was little Amy Pond. Not so little anymore. She was fifteen now, and was that Rory Williams on her arm?
Behind Amy and Rory were Susan (she was married now, but she had left her husband at home, he had never really known the little boy in the hospital bed), Rose, Melody, Clara, Martha (Martha hadn't been on the ward long, but she had been jealous of Rose and all the children talking about the pretty blonde), Grace (Thee's mother was sure the poor girl had a crush on her son, but she had never had much proof either way), and swaggering along like he owned the place was Jack Harkness (he had just enlisted in the RAF, and during his time one the ward he had nearly died seven times, and three times his heart had actually stopped before they could resuscitate him).
"Are you…Are you all real?" Thee asked his voice hoarse and raspy.
"Yeah," Susan was the one to reply and a bunch of the group started pulling up chairs to sit around him. For a child who had slept for over ten years of his life he did seem to have touched a lot of lives.
"But…Mummy said they were just funny dreams," Thee protested, "She said I wasn't The Doctor and I don't have a TARDIS and I'm not really old."
"No, you're not," Rose said sadly shaking her head and taking his hand, "But we're still your companions you know."