"Oh my god..." Lawrence says, shock that is somehow relieved etched into his no longer ghostly white face, "Adam...How did you-When did you..." Probably the look on my face shuts him up. I haven't seen my own appearance since before the bathroom but I'd guess it's nothing pretty right now. My eyes pass over him, taking him in, recovered...physically at least. I suppress a shudder at the absence of his right foot. Though his grey sweatpants cover the stump I can still remember what it looked like when the wound was fresh. Lawrence shifts on the bed so he is sitting on the edge. He leans forward slightly, as if to get up, his left hand aimed toward the crutches propped against the sickening off-white of the ward's wall. I won't let him come to me. I force my feet to move though my entire body feels like it's full of gelatin. Like learning to walk as a child I slowly move towards him, my hands clenched into trembling fists. Why is it when something disturbing happens, good or bad, the world seems to slow and your heartbeat becomes the only sound you hear? I will never understand that. But as soon as you make it to wherever you're going, time speeds up faster and everything is suddenly louder. If only for a moment. When I reach Lawrence I have to stop a moment to make sure I'm still breathing. They don't tell you in these situations you forget to breathe. I close my eyes, still desperately confused. I feel his palm on my cheek and it's the same as I remember, warmer though.
"Adam." How I've longed for that voice to say my name...in that gentle, cautious tone...I open my eyes to the real world for the second time...and collapse onto Lawrence. My arms wrap tightly around his neck, not even causing a flinch at the pain in my still-healing shoulder. And I hold this position, sobbing into his shirt, hardly knowing what I'm doing. I feel his arms close around me, one hand on my back and the other...God, is it doing something right...the other is on the back of my head, stroking my hair in a comforting way not even a mother could master. He is initially surprised but soon realizes my condition (what it is exactly, I don't even know) and begins whispering to me. I can only make out a few phrases and for all I'm concerned, those are the only ones that matter.
"It's okay...I'm here..." Repeated over and over as I cry on his shoulder like a child. If this is a dream or a hallucination brought on by hunger and solitude...if I'm still chained up in that bathroom...I don't want to wake up. I don't want to open my eyes to darkness again. The feel of Lawrence's hands is intoxicating...I have gone too long without human contact like this. Even after the tears run out and I am heaving for breath I still cling to him. I am terrified. I think he knows this.
"Lawrence," I whimper, and at any other time I would feel ashamed of how pathetic I sound, "Lawrence, I'm scared."
"What are you afraid of?" he asks soothingly, falling into his role as doctor.
"Waking up...and finding out this isn't real." Lawrence brings his hands to my face and pulls it upward.
"Adam, look at me," he says, "Open your eyes." Slowly, uncertain, I do as I'm told. His light eyes are serious and stern yet so very concerned. Why? "You're really here. I wouldn't lie to you." He touches his forehead to mine and smiles reassuringly. "See?" I close my eyes once more, absorbing it all. God...
"Lawrence," I begin, breaking the pleasant silence, "How long has it been since then?" My companion stiffens; the question seems to be a sore spot. Hesitating in what seems a beat too long he responds,
"I-I really can't say. As soon as I came to in the hospital I told them about you...and then Alison, my wife, mentioned Zepp had the camera feed to the bathroom in our house. But that was...almost four weeks ago...They never told me when you got here." My blood runs cold. I pull back, confusion creasing my brow. Four weeks?
"That's impossible..." Lawrence looks away, deep in thought as well.
"The body can't survive long without nourishment..." he mutters, "Maybe a week without food in your state and a few days without water...And I'm sure your shoulder was infected."
"The tap for the bathtub ran for a little while but went dry pretty soon," I point out, hoping to help his thoughts.
"So you had water for a short time...I'd say you'd only last about two weeks at best, what with your shoulder and you probably had given up after while, am I right?" I nod. Not long after. I turn around, ready to leave.
"I-I have to go," I say shakily, "I'll be back." I hardly take one step towards the door when something Lawrence says makes me hesitate.
"Adam," he calls, "You know you're just coming out of shock. Everything will make sense soon. I promise." I inwardly shake myself and move on.
"I hope you're right," I mumble, pushing the door open to meet with the one person who's been with me this whole time...the attendant.