Chapter two. The man without a name

I made it to the door to his hospital room this time, before stopping in my tracks once more. I had been pacing for what felt like a few never-ending centuries. Officially, I could visit him now, at last. But even though I had been waiting for that for a long time, now that it was possible I just couldn't find the courage to actually do it.

I was torn. My brain kept sending my legs orders which constantly contradicted one another; I changed my mind every few seconds. One instant I was charging towards the door, determined to open it and step inside; but before I knew it I was getting away from the room as if it was dangerous.

This time, the tip of my fingers had brushed the doorknob. I was so close, so close… then I got scared, and I almost ran down the corridor to get as far as possible from him.

Lilly's usual luck hadn't failed her when we needed it the most. She didn't get any signal, however, just when she reached the road, a car rolled past, before turning back and pulling up at the view of the panicked girl. She had persuaded the man inside to get to the town hospital and send back an ambulance. She gave instructions as to where to find us. Then she headed back to the stranger and me.

As we waited, he slowly fell back into unconsciousness. My brain didn't quite comprehend the situation I had gotten myself into, and I had no idea of how to help the injured man. So, at a loss for a better idea, I gathered up my courage and dared to hold his hand. Strangely, he didn't protest. In fact, before he slipped away, I could've sworn he returned briefly my reassuring squeeze. Of course, it was probably nothing more than my imagination.

When Lilly got back, his eyes were closed once more. That sight didn't panic me as much as before. The innocence had returned on his features, unconsciousness chasing away the fear and confusion, at least for now. My eyes didn't leave his face once, not when my friend returned, not when help arrived. I was forced away from him when they carried him away, and as soon as he was out of my sight, the angst came back. I couldn't do anything more, and that drove me insane. I needed to do something. For some reason, I couldn't tear my thoughts away from the stranger who would probably die soon.

I didn't get any sleep the night that followed. I spent restless hours tossing and turning in a bed which had rarely brought me anything else than bad dreams.

The next day, Lilly and I went to the hospital as soon as we could.

We had to admit that we weren't members of the man's family. But as he hadn't woken up yet, and they hadn't found any hint as to where to find people he knew, they still filled us in.

We were told that the man wasn't out of the woods yet, but that he had great chances of pulling through. He was a fighter, they said. And I just got more and more curious. Lilly settled for knowing that none of his injuries were lethal on their own, but that combined, they could have caused some nasty damage. Between his concussion, his broken ribs, his torn shoulder, and the multiple cuts and bruises, plus all the water which had found its way into his lungs, he was lucky to still be there. He was lucky we had found him in time. The blood loss alone was a serious problem.

Lilly came with me again the following day. No one could visit the patient yet, and he was still unconscious. The doctors said they had done everything they could, and that now the man would wake up when he was ready. He would survive, that was fairly certain at that point; however there was still no way to know for sure if his injuries would leave him with any lasting damage.

No one came to check on him; no panicked family, no anxious girlfriend, no one. He was alone. We knew him as nothing else than "John Doe".

I kept coming every day. Lilly didn't, she had better things to do. She got updates on the man from me.

When he finally woke up, it still took a day or two before I was allowed to visit him.

The doctors, as much as the police or myself, had hoped that the stranger would get his memory back at the same time as his lucidity. But I heard that he didn't. The mystery of his identity remained complete. My urge to see him again grew wildly. What did he look like when he wasn't on the brink of death? Was he okay? How could he be, he didn't even remember who he was… how could he not remember? His complete amnesia was pinned on his concussion, but I was told that it didn't make sense. It shouldn't have been bad enough to have such consequences. The man's condition was near to unexplainable.

Theoretically, only his family should have been allowed to see him now. But he didn't have any. And I was the only one around who seemed to care, even a little, about what happened to him; as well as one of the two who had saved his life. So, in the end, I was free to go talk to him.

I had waited for this chance from the start. I wanted it. So why hadn't I gathered the courage to go inside yet? By now my eyes knew every detail of the corridor.

I hated hospitals, always had. Luckily, this was the first time I had been stuck inside one for so long.

The man didn't know me. Why would he care if I visited him? Well, no one else had done it so far, maybe he would appreciate knowing that he wasn't alone…

But did he even remember me? If his whole life, all his memories of all the people he held dear, had slipped away from his mind, then how could he remember a stranger he met once?

But I had saved his life, after all. And in that brief time when he had woken up, he had seemed lucid enough. Maybe his memories started there, maybe he hadn't forgotten me…

Except that I hadn't actually saved his life, I reminded myself. Lilly had. She'd even been the first one to see him. So if he could recall one of us, it would certainly be her.

But Lilly wasn't here either, was she? No one was here for him, except the hospital staff which seemed to have taken a liking to him. Something about the man seemed to inspire sympathy in people, I knew that from experience. That thought only made it more terrifyingly troubling, that someone had hated him enough to inflict all that pain… But I shook my head; I wouldn't think about that now.

I really had to go see him, I told myself. This wasn't about me, and how wounded I would be if he greeted me with a "who are you?". This was about a man who had narrowly escaped death, and who was now left alone. No one deserved that. I couldn't actually help, but I would do whatever I could. I was incapable of just walking away, I knew that; and I couldn't spend the rest of my life pacing in that corridor, either.

I took a deep breath and rushed to the door. Then at last, before my temporary boldness could leave me, I pushed it open and stepped inside. Only then did it occur to me that I could've knocked beforehand. Well, now it was too late to think of politeness. Maybe next time?

I didn't look at the sinister white walls, I ignored the equipment and the lifelessness which I disliked so much in all hospital rooms. The only speck of color here was him.

He was awake. My entrance startled him, and he looked up with a surprise mingled with a slight fear, which seemed strangely close to a reflex. I guessed that if I was in his position, I wouldn't trust anybody.

I really should have knocked.

I was about to stutter embarrassed apologies; but as he stared at me, his eyes narrowed a little before lighting up. Then my heart skipped a beat when he smiled at me for the first time. A genuine, dazzlingly bright smile.

"I know you," he said in a voice filled with something quite like wonder.

I let out a happily relieved laugh. "Yes, we… met before. I…"

"You found me, right?" he interrupted me.

"Yes, me and my friend Lilly."

I grinned stupidly. It was ridiculous; why did a stranger make me feel happier than I had been in a really long time?

The man – John Doe? – seemed so happy to see me that my shyness was partly forgotten. I moved forward to stand right next to his hospital bed. Somehow it felt a little strange to have him look up at me. I had never seen him standing up, but something told me he was tall. And I most certainly wasn't.

So… how did you start a conversation with an amnesiac stranger found half-dead in a river?

"How are you feeling?" I asked.

He shrugged. "Fine," he answered automatically.

"Right." I shot him my best bitch-please look, and his smile turned sad.

"Well," he said quietly, "it could be worse… considering. I could be dead. Although," he sighed, "I wonder if that wouldn't be better."

Those words almost physically hurt. He avoided my eyes and silence stretched on for the few seconds during which I desperately searched for something to answer. However, he was the one to speak up again, this time with a mixture of cheerfulness and embarrassment.

"I'm sorry," he chuckled, "you don't need to hear this. I'm just… still a little confused."

"You have every right to be!"

He frowned thoughtfully. "Maybe it's my memory playing tricks on me again, but… I can't remember your name," he said slowly.

"Oh, that's normal – I never told you! I'm Sable."

"Well, Sable… I can't thank you enough for what you did."

I was confused for a moment, but he went on:

"I owe you my life, from what I hear." Our eyes met again, and the emotion his conveyed was so intense that I didn't breathe for a moment. "Thank you," he repeated, "thank you for saving me, thank you for being here… thank you for caring."

There was a knot in my throat, which prevented me from saying anything for a long while. With all the time I had spent pacing outside his room, I could've prepared myself, I could've found something to say, but… how could I have expected this? I didn't even think he'd remember me, let alone be thankful… And a simple "you're welcome" didn't seem quite like enough to me.

So I tried to get my own message across through my eyes. I don't know if it worked, but the return of John Doe's smile was enough of a reward to me.

When I finally managed to speak again, I croaked: "I'm not actually the one who saved you. My friend Lilly is the real hero here… she saw you first, she pulled you out of the water, she brought you back…"

"Oh. That's strange," he said thoughtfully.

"Why?"

"Well, I don't remember her very clearly. Your face is my first real memory. That, and… pain." His eyes twinkled when he added: "Besides, Lilly isn't here now. You are."

A grin split my face.

He probably needed some rest, and I thought perhaps it would be best if I left soon. But I didn't want to. So in a moment of selfishness, I pulled up an uncomfortable chair which was just waiting in a corner, and I sat next to his bed.

For a while, all we did was look at one another with curiosity.

A ray of sunlight streamed through a small window and hit the back of his head, turning his hair into shiny golden-brown waves.

He had adorable dimples when he smiled so innocently. I couldn't imagine him able to harm anyone or anything.

He looked much better today. The bruise on his cheek had changed colors, and stayed there as a painful reminder, but it would be gone soon. He had a few stitches next to his left brow, but the other small cuts on his face were already disappearing.

As for his other injuries, I couldn't see them, except for the arm that he wore in a sling.

"So, you really don't remember anything?" I couldn't help asking.

He shook his head slowly. "Nothing."

"I'm sure it'll come back to you soon." I was trying to persuade myself as much as him.

"Maybe… so far I have no name, no past…"

"But you have a future."

"Well, I hope so. For now… I'm just John Doe." He cleared his throat. "Let's talk about something else. Otherwise, this conversation is going to get really depressing, really fast…"

"Alright," I said, even though I did want to talk about this. "Do you know when you'll leave the hospital?"

"In a week or two, apparently. I'll still need to check in regularly, but… I'll be free."

"Do you know where you'll go?"

He opened his mouth, closed it, then smiled sadly. "No."

I didn't even hesitate. What I had to do now seemed obvious to me.

"Well, why don't you stay at my place for a while? I have a spare bedroom."

His eyes widened in shock. "No," he protested immediately. "No way."

"Well, why not?"

I was almost offended.

"You've done enough already," he said. "I can't just barge into your life, you don't have to help me anymore."

"You're already a part of my life now," I insisted. "I'm not leaving you alone without a place to stay, I wouldn't forgive myself."

"But–"

"It's temporary," I interrupted him before he could find any arguments. "Just until you get your memory back, or until you build yourself a new life here."

We stared at one another for a long time. My eyes did not waver, and in the end he was the one who looked away.

"Fine," he sighed as I smiled victoriously. "Just for a little while."