Locked In

by Ludub

Josh Barrett has just woken from his coma but he is unable to communicate in any way and the doctors all think that he's in a vegetative state and simply unresponsive. In reality, he is 'locked in'. (One Shot)

AN: Soooo… this is just a little one-shot that I wrote a few years ago when Josh was in hospital. It's the first thing I ever wrote, and you could say that something about that storyline (which the show botched terribly) got my attention. I just wish they'd explored it properly and not used it as some cheap gimmick in the 'Who shot Charlotte?' story arc. Josh's injury and his recovery could have been a powerful piece on the repercussions of 'coward punches'. A missed opportunity. Anyway, it captured my imagination, and I've been writing ever since!

I would really appreciate it if you could leave a comment. Any feedback at all would be much appreciated!

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Title: LOCKED IN

ONE-SHOT

Summary: Josh Barrett has just woken from his coma but he is unable to communicate in any way and the doctors all think that he's in a vegetative state and simply unresponsive. In reality, he is 'locked in'.

i.

'I can't move! Why can't I move?' thought Josh, with a rising sense of panic, 'I feel weird!'

He could hear voices around him. There were people on either side of him, and they were talking over him, close enough for him to feel soft brushes of fabric against his skin. He couldn't understand what they were saying but he could tell that they were talking about him. Someone suddenly touched his eyelid and pulled it open wider. He didn't like being touched like that, it was quite uncomfortable, but he couldn't pull away. He couldn't move and he couldn't see what they were doing!

'It's so dark in here. I don't know where we are', he thought to himself feeling frightened and disoriented. He'd never liked the dark.

Not only that, but he felt dizzy and strange, like coming out of an anaesthetic. There was a raw feeling in his stomach and his throat felt like it had been burnt. He tried to swallow to ease the burning sensation, but nothing happened! The muscles just wouldn't work! He tried not to panic, but he couldn't help breathing a bit faster. It hurt to breathe in. And it hurt to breathe out.

What was going on?!

His body felt strange, like every part of him was glued down, and when he tried to move his head, it felt like lead. He couldn't even lift it. He couldn't move at all!

That's when he began to become aware of an annoying beeping noise. It just kept beeping. 'Beep, beep, beep…', slow and steady, but incessant. Was it an alarm clock? No, it was too soft for that. It wasn't a noise that he knew. Whatever it was, he wanted it to stop. It was setting his teeth on edge. Like a child kicking the back of your chair on a plane, over and over, and over again, until you finally snap. He could feel the tension building… Why wouldn't it stop?

Suddenly something was crushing his right bicep. It really really hurt and it was making his heart thump loudly in his head. The thing on his arm was squeezing tighter and tighter, stopping the blood flow, and he thought that it was never going to end. 'Stop! Stop! Stop!' he wanted to shout, but he couldn't open his mouth. What were these people doing to him?! Was he being tortured?!

With a soft whoosh, and an enormous sense of relief, he felt the crushing give way. He desperately wanted to check that they hadn't done any damage to his arm but again he couldn't move.

'What is wrong with me?!' his inner voice asked himself.

"Vitals look good" said a female voice right beside him, "Blood pressure's still a little high…"

That's when it hit him. He must be in hospital! That was a blood pressure cuff! There was something wrong with him and he was in hospital!

Had they said that his blood pressure was high?!

"Will I tell the family…?" said a male voice, "Get them to come in?"

He didn't hear a reply but suddenly there were new hands pawing at him. Andy and Evie were there... He could hear them talking to the doctor. They were asking why he wasn't able to do anything. Why he was like this? He tried to concentrate on what was being said because he wanted to know too, but he couldn't follow for long. Why couldn't he make himself listen?!

'Oh God, what's happened?!' cried his inner voice, and then he heard that annoying beep pick up the pace. 'Beep beep beep beep…'

He was starting to really panic now and the alarmed voices around him weren't making things any better. Bodies crowded in around him. He couldn't see them but he could feel their presence. Crowded around him in the dark! Hands were touching him everywhere! He wanted them to stop!

'Get off me!' he shouted in his head, 'Stop it! Stop touching me!'

There was a hand pressing heavily on his shoulder, holding him down, not that he could move anyway. A voice was talking calmly too, issuing orders, and telling people to move away. He was relieved to feel some of them leave. It was like the air came rushing back. Like he could breathe again…

"Josh?" said a calm and authoritative voice, "Josh, if you can hear me, I need you to try to calm down…"

The voice drifted then. He could hear people talking but the words sounded garbled. He couldn't understand.

"Is he gonna be okay?" asked Andy, lifting his hand and giving it a squeeze.

He understood that question. He wanted to know too!

"Yes, he's calming down now…" the woman answered, "He was just getting a little distressed… It's a good sign actually… He's becoming more aware of his surroundings…"

'More aware?!' he said to himself, with a flash of anger. Did they think he was brain dead or something?! He was aware alright! He was scared out of his wits!

"Just talk to him" said the woman, before walking away. He could hear the click of heels as she moved towards the door.

'Okay!' he reasoned with himself, 'Just do what she said… Just try to calm down…'

He concentrated on slowing his breathing. Andy was talking about things that had been happening in the Bay, and about people that he knew, but he just couldn't follow. He couldn't concentrate. Not when his heart was still beating so fast and with that stupid beeping still distracting him. Couldn't they turn it off?!

'Think, Josh!" he said in his head, 'Think! …What's the last thing you remember?... Evie! Evie was in trouble, Tank had her somewhere, the text message, the map. I needed to find her!'.

But… he could hear her now?! She was saying something to Andy… She sounded like she was on the other side of the room… So, she must have been okay? Had he rescued her? He wasn't sure… He couldn't remember…

'Why can't I remember?!' he asked himself again, 'What happened to me?!'

He wanted so badly to scream out the words but no matter how hard he tried to move his mouth, to find his voice… nothing came out!

He spent a while just concentrating on his breathing… just tuning everything out… and trying to calm himself… After a while it worked…

Now, someone was holding his hand. It was a small hand and they kept running their thumb along his thumb. It felt nice, reassuring. He needed that right now. He was pretty sure it was Evie. He thought he could smell her perfume, mingling with the antiseptic smells of the hospital.

'Why can't I squeeze her hand back?' he thought, 'Why can't I move?!' He'd never felt frustration like this.

Then other people were talking again… It was like time didn't make sense anymore… Was he simply drifting in and out? Had he missed something?

He did his best to concentrate on the voices of the people but he was finding it difficult to follow their words. Everything sounded so distant and echoey. Whoever was speaking now, he didn't think he recognised the voice. He started to decipher the occasional word but a lot of it was medical jargon.

"MRI...intracranial pressure...vegetative state...tachycardic….. response to pain...GCS...need to wait and see... long term damage"

'Oh, shit!" he thought, 'Are they talking about me?! They're talking about brain damage!'

His heart started to race again as a terrible realisation hit him.

'They're talking about fucking brain damage!' he screamed in his head, 'That's what this is! That's why I can't move! I'm fucking brain damaged!'

ii.

He woke up again, there were people in his room. Had he been asleep?

He slowly become aware that someone was talking to him, and holding his hand. It was Andy. He could hear his voice, full of emotion, and pleading with him. He was trying really hard to concentrate on what he was saying. Why was this so hard?!

"Mate, please just look at me" pleaded Andy, "Squeeze my hand, anything... Just, please, let us know you're in there. C'mon Josh, squeeze my hand! You can do it!"

'I'm trying to!' he screamed at him.

Of course, no sound escaped his lips. Not even a whisper. And he made no outward sign of having heard or understood. So, Andy slumped back in his chair with a sigh of defeat. He could hear his disappointment.

'I'm trying!' he sobbed inside his head, 'Oh God! Andy! I'm trying so hard!'

He wanted desperately to let him know that he could hear him, and that he was still in here. He wanted to squeeze his hand just like he'd asked him. He wanted it so badly, but no matter how hard he concentrated, nothing was working. He couldn't understand why.

If his mind was working enough for him to be pissed off about all of this, then surely he had to still be okay?! Didn't he?!

It wasn't like he was some drooling vegetable. He was awake. He was alert. He was still Josh Barrett…

"Come on, mate?" pleaded Andy, giving his hand a gentle squeeze again, "Just look at me, mate?"

He tried to move his eyes in the direction of the voice but he failed at even that simple movement. He was pretty sure that his eyes were open but he couldn't even blink. Then a thought began to creep in, as though his brain was slowly connecting the dots…

Were his eyes really open? How could he be sure when it was so dark in here? Why was it dark in here? Why did they not turn on the lights? Surely that wasn't normal in a hospital?

His heart began to beat a lot faster and that stupid machine started beeping annoyingly fast as well. He hated the sound of it. It only succeeded in making him panic even more!

It was pitch dark in this room!

There wasn't a chink of light anywhere!

It was completely and totally black!

With a jolt of panic, like someone had just kicked him in the stomach, he suddenly grasped the awful truth.

He was blind!

iii.

'Ow! That really hurt!'

He was woken by a sharp pain, as someone rubbed their knuckles roughly over his sternum. It left a burning sensation under the skin on his chest. He wanted to reach out and hit the person that had done it!

"...today he's responding to pain!" said a female voice, "It's a huge improvement!"

"I told you so" said Evie.

"Yeah, you did" said Andy.

'Yes, I'm responding to pain!' he shouted in his head, 'That really fuckin' hurt!... How would you like to be woken up like that?!'

Voices murmured in the background, and he tried not to let himself get angry about the fact that he found it hard to follow what they were saying, and that he hated it when he heard them laughing. Every little giggle felt like it was aimed at him. Like they were mocking him in some way.

"Okay… but I'm coming back later" said Evie, and he sensed that she'd gone.

A large hand, that he knew to be Andy's, took hold of his own and held it against his chest. He could feel the heat of his body.

"Okay, mate" he heard him say, "You can do this… Just open your eyes for me…"

He began to panic. So, his eyes weren't even open now, and he didn't seem to be able to open them. He tried, but he couldn't!

'Oh fuck, this is bad!' he cried in his own head, 'This is really really bad! I can't even open my eyes now! I can't move, I can't talk, I can't see! I can't do a single fucking thing! They should have turned the machine off! I don't want to be here like this! Not like this!'

The panic was overtaking him, his heart hammering in his chest, and a wave of nausea crashing over him. A terrible thought began to form.

'What if I get sick like this?' he thought, 'If I vomit, I'll just choke to death!'

That only made things worse!

The machine was going mad again and he heard an alarm go off! Footsteps followed, and then there were lots of hands groping at him all at once. Voices talked over one another and he heard someone say '10ml of'… something… and then there was a sudden rush of cold in the vein in his arm. He felt strange at first… and then he began to feel floaty… and calm… and tired…

'This is a nightmare' he told himself calmly, 'It has to be. This can't be real. You'll wake up soon, it's not real, it's not real, it can't be, it's not real…'

'Locked in', he thought, as he began to drift into a warm and mindless bliss, 'That's what they call it, isn't it? Locked in…'

iv.

He spent his days being manhandled and hauled around the bed, dressed and undressed, washed, and shaved.

Sometimes they were gentle hands, accompanied by soft murmurings of reassurance, and sometimes he was roughly dragged about in aggressive silence. Either way, they didn't seem to think that he was in there, or aware of what was going on.

Hands would appear out of nowhere, groping at him and touching him in intimate places, often without any warning. He would wake to find that he was being washed, or that someone was checking his catheter, and roughly poking at him 'down there'. Even worse was the fact that he was wearing a fucking nappy. He didn't think that he'd ever come to terms with that.

No-one seemed to think that he should have any say in what happened to him. Or that he was even aware of what they were doing. He had no way of knowing what was coming, or when... He'd hear footsteps approaching and start to panic before they even touched him. It was terrifying, and more humiliating than he could put into words. Not that he could put anything into words anymore.

Having no voice was the worst thing of all! No way to say when he was uncomfortable or in pain. No way to say 'stop!'. Torture victims were treated better than this!

v.

'Okay, concentrate.' he told himself, 'Move your finger. Just one of your fingers. Surely that's not too much to ask!? Come on, twitch, gggggrrrrrrrrrrrr!'

He'd never felt so weak or so helpless.

The fingers on his left hand suddenly twitched slightly. Then he moved his index finger. A definite movement.

'Oh, my God!' he squealed in his head, 'I moved! I think I moved! I did, didn't I? Is anyone there? Did they see me move? I can't hear anyone. All I can hear is beeping. That stupid machine beep beep beeping. Please, someone come back! I want to show you that I can move, that I'm here! I'm listening!'

He'd never been so excited! He heard footsteps approaching.

'Oh fuck! Thank God!' he shouted inside, 'Look, look, I'm moving my fingers! Look at my fingers!'

Suddenly he found himself thrown on his side, as the bedsheets were whipped out from under him, and new ones pulled across. A second set of hands, pulled him onto his back again, and then he was thrown up onto his other side so the sheets could be pulled across and tucked in.

He was crying on the inside but he had no idea if they could tell.

What was the point? No-one knew that he was in there!

vi

About a week later…

The frustration was unbearable. He couldn't make his body do anything that he wanted it to! Any movements he did make took an enormous amount of energy and concentration. Even then, they weren't fluid movements. His left side was easier than his right, which felt heavy and weak. Every movement was like walking under water. He'd never felt so tired.

His right hand felt like it was pulled tight and tense and he couldn't open his fist very easily. That made things even more difficult, especially because he couldn't see, and his left hand just didn't have the same dexterity. His fine motor skills were decidedly limited.

They'd finally figured out that he was blind. "Cortical Blindness" they'd said, due to swelling and scarring in his brain. They weren't sure if it was permanent or not. At least they'd been honest.

He had so many questions but no way to ask them.

Hannah had been the only one to actually speak to him like a person, like someone who still had a brain, and like he might have questions. He was glad that she was there.

No one had even bothered to tell him what had happened. He'd had to piece it together from overheard conversations, and the whispers of nurses who came in to change him.

People often talked as though he wasn't there. Talked over him. The kinds of conversations that they would never have had if they'd known he was listening. He knew things about the nurses that he shouldn't have known. Things about their personal lives. He knew that one of them had a terrible yeast infection that wouldn't clear up, and that another one was cheating on her boyfriend with one of the doctors. He also knew that they thought he was some kind of 'vegetable'. Awake and moving, but not 'all there'. Not a man any more. Not sexual in anyway. It was as though he'd been neutered… He was something to be babied and pitied.

He hated it!

Through their gossiping, he'd come to know that it was Tank that had done this to him. Just one punch. A single punch to the back of the head. What they called a 'coward punch'. And now the sneaky little shit had played the 'mental illness' card to get a shorter sentence. He was going to get away with it. Tank was going to walk out of that prison in a few months 'a reformed man', while he was going to spend the rest of his life trapped in a malfunctioning body, and cut off from everything, and everyone, by his own damaged brain. It wasn't fair!

Not only that, but Andy should have been the one to tell him! He was angry with him for that. Wouldn't he want to know if it was him?! Wouldn't he be lying here seething if it was him in this position?! Wouldn't he want to know who was to blame?! He was furious!

And Evie was being sickeningly sweet! She was pawing all over him but he couldn't think of her the same way anymore. He wanted her to go away!

For a while he had craved her touch, but it sickened him now, and made his blood boil. She was to blame for this! Okay, so obviously, it was Tank that had thrown the punch… but it was Evie who brought him into their lives. He would never have had anything to do with him if it weren't for her!

She'd refused to listen to him! He'd tried to tell her! Time and time again, he'd tried! Anyone could have seen that Tank was trouble. Anyone with half a brain anyway! But she hadn't been thinking with her brain, had she?! She'd thrown herself at the first psycho that had shown her some attention. Dropped her knickers for him at the drop of a hat, and even had herself branded for him. His initials tattooed on her stomach, like a dog marking its territory.

She'd thrown everything away for a man that had only wanted to control her and hurt her. Who had kidnapped her, and held her prisoner…

…And then?! Then?! She'd expected him to save her! She'd called him for help! And he'd gone running! Like an idiot!

And what had it got him?

'Brain damage!' he thought bitterly, 'This is my life now! I'm going to spend the rest of my life like this!'

The injustice he felt was overwhelming.

He couldn't stand having her around him now. He didn't want her witnessing this! Not this! Seeing what was left of him. This pitiful shell of the person he'd once been. 'Josh Barrett' only in name… He felt small, and helpless, and pathetic… and he hated himself.

This was her doing though! This was what she had reduced him to!

Why should she get to play nursemaid now? Why should she get to ease her guilt?!

He wanted her to feel bad. She deserved to feel bad for what she'd done. She should have to carry this guilt with her forever, just like his brain would forever bear the scars…

"YOUR FAULT" he'd managed to scrawl on that piece of paper, hoping that she'd leave.

It was her fault… and he didn't want her to forget that.

He wanted to die, and he wanted her to feel bad when he was gone…