So I've decided to continue this. It's going to be a series of drabbles taking place both before and after the accident and I'm going to keep the story marked as complete, as I'm only going to write more when I get inspired. But, well, brain damaged Ace is fun to write.

Enjoy~

The longest nights are those spent alone, the ones where you sit in an uncomfortable chair and stare down at the one person you care about most, wondering if they're ever going to wake up. Marco learned that the hard way. For seven hours his mind repeated it again and again and again—the call, the drive there and the waiting, so much waiting.

He never had to plan a funeral before, and he didn't want Ace to be the first.

The blond ran a hand gently across his forehead, swiping stray hairs out of the boy's eyes while being careful to avoid touching the bandages. He didn't want to hurt him. He didn't want to make the poor boy suffer any more than he already had.

Marco remembered hearing once that people in comas could hear what you said. Was Ace in a coma or was he just sleeping? He hoped he was sleeping, but on the off chance he wasn't, what should he have said? What words could he have used that were appropriate for something like that? After seven hours of silence, he wanted to find out.

"I wonder… if you can hear me," he stated reluctantly. His hand moved from Ace's forehead to his shoulder and his finders glided down his arm, latching tightly onto the splayed hand resting on the mattress covers.

Machinery around them beeped and noised, cutting through the eerie quiet of the room. He hated that he didn't get a response, even if it was expected.

"They say you'll be different yoi," he mentioned, fixing his eyes on the stitched and bandaged area of the younger's head where he impacted in the accident, "that you'll change. But… they didn't say how."

Would he remember him? Would he be impaired? Could he speak? Could he move? Could he listen? The possibilities terrified him, each becoming worse than the last. But come what may, he would stay by his side. He would stick with him, visit him, take care of him, because he could never abandon someone he held dear. Even if he couldn't speak. Even if he didn't remember.

A small, quiet, insignificant groan had Marco's heart stopping, daring to hope that he would open his eyes. He held fast to that hand, cradling it in both of his as his jaw snapped closed. The boy stirred. Ace stirred.

He opened his eyes.

A shaky smile made its way to Marco's face as he observed his companion stare at the ceiling with partially-lidded eyes. He looked pale, probably from blood loss, and so, so tired. But he was alive—alive and awake—and the relief that washed over him made him want to cry.

The blond removed his right hand from Ace's to wipe his face, feeling a stray tear sting against his eye. He wasn't one to be emotional but he was just so happy.

The moment seemed to alert the patient to his presence and grey eyes rolled over to him, unfocused even as he registered his face. Marco did his best to smile, to stop the rush of adrenaline in his veins from making him tremble, but he was too overwhelmed with excitement to tell if his attempts bore fruit. Even still he just continued to rub his thumb lightly over Ace's knuckle in a soothing gesture.

"Hey there," he greeted in a whisper, somehow managing to keep his voice steady. When he got no response or recognition his heart clenched and all of the 'what ifs' from earlier came to the forefront of his mind. He swallowed. "…Do you recognise me, Ace? Do you know who I am?"

When the victim blinked he looked like he was staving off sleep, his eyes fighting to reopen. The blond wondered how long he could keep himself from drifting off again.

"…Marco."

He pressed the boy's hand to his forehead, letting out a shivering breath. "Thank god…" I was so scared that…

When he lowered Ace's hand to once more look at his face, Marco was met with a gentle chuckle and the faintest hint of a smile. He wasn't sure why the youth was looking at him like that, wasn't sure why he seemed so happy when in such obvious pain, but he didn't dwell on it. If Ace could smile, maybe everything would be alright.

"Marco," he called softly, happily as he returned the blond's grasp. "Marco. Marco."

At first he was silent, not sure how to act, what to say. He wished he'd rehearsed. "I'm here, Ace. What is it yoi?"

The boy's lip quivered, eyes turning glossy and in an instance he sat up and thrust himself into the elder's chest, wrapping his arms feebly around his torso. His jaw went slack as he stilled, his companion's actions not fully understood.

"Scared, Marco. Scared."

He stiffened with those words, returning the embrace with a soft gaze. Of course he was scared. Of course. After all he'd been though, how could he not be? "It's alright now. You're safe. You're in the hospital, yoi; we're going to take care of you."

"Care…? Marco care?"

"I care," he affirmed, "and I'll stay with you. But I need you to lie back down, alright? You need rest."

He felt a nod as the youth went limp in his arms and carefully he began lowering Ace to the mattress, readjusting the blankets on his resting form. It wasn't long before Ace shut his eyes again, soft snores breaking the silence, the only sound as he pondered the behaviour he just witnessed. It was hard to tell much of anything from only a few broken words, but it was enough for him to see and understand just what they meant.

Ace wasn't the same. He never would be.

And Marco didn't know if he could handle that.

And thus it began. It feels weird, I already replied to reviews... IT'S MADNESS I TELL YOU. MADNESS! Anyways, hope you enjoyed! Please review if you can~