Chapter 2
There was a bright light. At first it was almost blinding, but it was not long before my eyes started adjusting. I could hear sounds nearby, but I could not make what or who was the source. Then there was the pain, duller than before, but there still. My body felt as if it was floating. My mind was foggy. Am I dead? I wondered as I once more sank into the embrace of darkness.
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My entire body felt sluggish as I woke up. My brain felt muddled as I lay on my back, blinking up at the ceiling. Turning my head slightly to the side, I could see that I was in a large pristine room with a multitude of devices among the many beds rowed up along the wall. The other beds were empty, and no one else was around. It was all so quiet except for the steady beeping coming from one of the machines near my bed. The constant beeping combined with the silence soon lulled me back to sleep.
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The next time I woke I could hear voices. The sound was muffled, so I assumed that there was someone another room nearby. Feeling tired and fatigued still, I closed my eyes and started to once more drift off to sleep. But just as I had almost managed to fall asleep, I heard someone enter the room. Opening one eye, I watched as someone neared my bed. It was not one of the two men I had seen in the forest, but he too seemed familiar. I closed my eye as he reached my bed. I could hear him pick something up and walk up to one of the machines near my bed, because I could hear buttons being pressed. Building up some courage, I opened my eyes and was met by a sight that I had not been expecting. Yet there he was; the spitting image of doctor Carson Beckett. I could not help but to stare at him. Surely my mind was playing some sort of trick on me. What else could it be? It would be unlikely that some friends somehow managed to hire the actor just to play some sort of trick on me, or if it was part of some sort of bad candid camera show. I tried to rub my eyes, to see if what I was seeing was some sort of hallucination, but I was unable to bend my right arm as I felt a sharp pain, causing me to groan from the pain.
"Oh, you're up" he said as he turned around, having heard me. My eyes widened and I felt like a deer caught in the headlights. That Scottish accent! No, it can't beā¦can it? The shock must have been visible, because he was telling me in that mesmerizing accent of his that it was alright and that I was safe now. I opened my mouth to say something, but my mind was blank and I was left speechless. Beckett, or the man who bore an uncanny resemblance to the character, missed my ever so graceful staring as he put down whatever it had been he had been holding. He walked over to my bed and started to examine the needle in the crook of my arm first as I was unconsciously rubbing it.
"May I?" he asked as he took hold of my arm and gently straightened it out, inspecting the area where needle penetrate my skin. He carefully poked the area with his fingers before moving on to checking up on the other injuries I had. I could not tear my eyes away from him as I watched him giving my wounds and bruises a check-up. His touch was soft and gentle as he pushed away the blanket over me to inspect a small gash I had on my left thigh, all the while I stared at him, still unsure if this was all real. Once done checking the various bumps and bruises I had somehow gotten on my body, he helped me to sit up. My head felt quite heavy and my body sluggish. Once in a sitting position, I felt slightly dizzy while he turned my head slightly, pushing back my hair to checked a wound I had apparently gotten on the left side of my head. By the feel of the gentle prodding, it was a bit above my ear. Replacing the dressing on my head wound, he brought out a small flashlight and shone it in my left eye and then my right. While he did so, I noticed just how blue his eyes were. I had sometimes thought them to be grey, or at least blue-grey. Blinking as my eyes adjusted back from the brightness of the flashlight, I shook my head slightly as if to shake the strange thoughts from my mind, yet feeling as if my head weight a ton, this only made me woozy. This cannot be. He is not Beckett, he can't be. It had to be some sort of hallucination, or a strange dream. But it was just so hard to ignore the fact that the man before me looked just like him. Everything from his clothes to his accent were identical to the Beckett I had seen on the show.
"There, all done" he said, interrupting my train of thought as he helped me lay down again. Getting out a syringe, he filled it with some liquid and injected it into the IV that was attached to my arm. Confused, I looked up at him wondering about what he had just injected me with. However, it was not long before I had my answer. My eyes started feeling heavier by the moment as I sank into darkness.
