((AN:Hey guys! Sorry I haven't written for a while! I've been trying to finish this forever and I just found it and rewrote a bunch of it and I'm finally deciding to split it into chapters and maybe that way I'll finish it. It wont be too long, but long enough. I saw a movie a few years back and I got my inspiration from that. Though I don't remember the movie name, whatever. Enjoy~ R&R~))

I've been in this same hospital room for the last five days.
I've hardly eaten anything, barely slept.
I'm not a patient though.
For every second that ticks by my heart breaks a little more.
The doctors are starting to worry about me. I know them by name now.
But I'm still worried about him.
Him.
My friend, my lover.
My Angleterre.
The one laying on the hospital bed.
I sat there, in the chair beside his bed.
I watched him sleep as his chest rose and fell with every breath he took.
Whenever he shifted I got my hopes up.
Maybe he would wake up.
These last few days have been the longest days of my life.
I came home from work one day to find my beloved…
I will never get those images out of my head.
They have burned their way into my mind's eye and I can't stop thinking about it.
It was so deep, the cut on his wrist…
I don't think it will ever heal.

I picked him up and hurried him to the hospital.
At the end of the night we were both covered in his blood.
I don't remember the last time I cried so hard.
In fact, I don't think I ever have.
I cried until the tears refused to fall anymore.
The sound of his heart monitor beside his bed has kept me awake.
The doctor comes in and tells me he's in a coma.
He could wake up tomorrow, or he might never.
And that thought scares me.
The doctor leaves and I find myself crying again.

I still can't stop replaying that scene in my head.
When I found him…
My heart is so broken.
I just don't understand.
The doctor has told me that he suffered massive blood loss.
This doesn't surprise me.
He goes into more detail about how his body responded to what he did to it.
His body stopped functioning after he had lost so much blood.
His brain went so long without oxygen it began to die, killing off vital parts of itself.
He tells me that he might suffer from memory loss.
He might forget nothing.
But…
He might also forget everything.
That breaks my heart even more.

What if he can't remember me?
That would kill me.
The room is silent all aside from the heart monitor and our breathing.
I'm dying inside.
I can't wrap my head around this.
Please, someone tell me it's a nightmare I'll wake up from.
This can't be real….

The only thing I can ask myself at this point is;
Is it my fault?
Did I cause him to go over the edge?
I can't ever forgive myself.

It's been six nights now, the doctors tell me I need to go home.
I argue with a few of them, tell them I won't leave him.
I can't. Not again.
They force me out of his room, I start throwing punches.
It's not like me, I know.
But what can I say?

It was a knockdown-drag out fight.
There was blood everywhere.
I might have hospitalized one of the doctors, I'm not really sure.
I have a bruise on my cheek and a bloody nose. Oh, and a split lip.
They forbid me from the hospital. Only for a little while though.
They tell me I can return in three days, unless Arthur wakes up before then.
I hold my breath for a minute as I stare at the hospital from the parking lot.
I wipe blood off my face with my sleeve and climb into my car.
I gripped the steering wheel tight, white-knuckled until the tears start to fall again.
What's happening to me?

I made it home last night, the first night in many.
It felt so…empty.
I felt so lost, so alone.
I looked around the dark room and remembered the light it once held.
I remembered all the memories we made here, all the laughs we shared here.
It will never be the same again.
I knew I wasn't going to sleep, but I crawled into bed anyways.
I got in on his side, taking in the familiar scent.
I was too tired to cry anymore.
I laid my head on his pillow, wishing it was him filling this space with my arms around him to hold him close.
There was a distinct sound of crumpling paper. I felt around for a light switch and turned it on.
I saw an envelope sitting on Arthur's pillow.
I picked it up and carefully turned it over.
In curvy letters it read: Francis.
I opened it up and read the letter on the inside.
It was short, but long enough to reach inside my chest and pull.

I didn't mean it to end this way. It just kind of… happened. It got out of control and I'm sorry. Just know that I love you with everything that I am and nothing could ever change that.

Truly Yours,

Arthur Kirkland.
That was it.
I was done.
I slid off the side of the bed, falling to my knees.
The letter flew out of my hands and slipped under the bed.
I had my face in my hands as I wept on the floor.
I felt so pathetic, so sad.

I don't remember falling asleep, but I remember being woken up by the phone.
I'm not sure what time it is or what day it is. Or even where I left the phone.
After three rings I find it and answer groggily.
What?
Oh, thank heavens!
I hang the phone up in a hurry. I panic a little before deciding my actions.
I took a quick shower and changed my clothes. I neatened myself up before leaving my house.
The doctors tell me he's shown signs of waking and they want me there.
I was asleep for two whole days after I collapsed on the floor crying.
I was sore but I didn't care, I needed to get to the hospital.

When I arrived the nurses didn't say much to me. The doctors led me to his room.
He wasn't awake yet, but he was making progress.
The doctors say he's out of his coma, that now he's only in a deep sleep.
I can tell by the way he's snoring and mumbling.
My heart swells in my chest. I'm overwhelmed.
I take a seat in my chair by his bed and take a few deep breaths. I have a smile on my face.
I take his hand in mine for the first time in a few days. I relax a little, knowing things will get better.
I feel rested, even though I didn't sleep very well on my floor.
Arthur stirred again, his hand twitched for a minute before he sighed and continued dreaming.

As cliché as it sounds, I slipped into dreams myself. I guess I wasn't as well rested as I thought I was, even after two days of uncomfortable sleep. Not that I minded. I actually started to feel comfortable sleeping in that hospital chair.

The next time I woke, everything changed.