Title: Faint Memories
Author: Melanie/thegamegirl14
Rating: NC-17 for language
Feedback: Of course!
Disclaimer: I DO NOT own any characters seen or mentioned from TF&TF (copyright Universal Pictures).
~*~
Chapter Four: Don't You Remember?
*****
We reached the hospital in record time, luckily escaping speeding tickets. We immediately went to his room where I could see him sitting up in bed, a doctor by his side with a clipboard. We slowly walked up to his bedside and he glanced over at us, his brows creased with confusion. No one said anything for a few minutes, so I finally said, "Hey, Dom."
He cocked his head to the side. "Who're you?" he asked.
******
"Wh-what?" I stuttered, sure I didn't hear him right.
"Do I know you?" he asked, his brows narrowing.
What the hell was wrong with him? I was expecting to come to the hospital—to throw my arms around him and never let go. His coma had frightened the daylights outta me, and now he was acting like I was a complete stranger? What the fuck?
"What's wrong, Dom?" I heard Mia ask her brother worriedly.
"What? Who's Dom?" he asked confusedly.
Vince, who was shifting and fidgeting behind me, laughed nervously, "That's you, brother."
Dom shook his head solemnly. "That's not my name," he stated calmly.
His voice was raspy, and his tone was weak. He looked confused and pitiful—the complete opposite of the Dominic Toretto I knew. Like Vince, he too was fidgeting, and all of this tension was unnerving me. His head was still bruised, but the cotton bandage had been removed. As we all stared at him strangely, he repeated, "That's not my name."
"Yes it is!" Mia insisted. "Dominic Toretto! C'mon Dom, I'm your sister. Quit acting like you don't know us!"
I saw fire in his eyes. His temper flared—he had Dom's temper, all right. "I've never seen you before in my life!" he assured her. "Any of you! Dr. Adams, who are these people?" he questioned breathlessly.
"Please, Ms. Toretto," Dr. Adams, who was standing beside Dom's bed, said to Mia. "Calm down. I must speak with all of you outside. I'll be back, sir."
He motioned for us to follow him, which we did reluctantly. All the while, I felt Dom's raging eyes on our backs, burning holes through us like pieces of thin cloth. I was so confused inside that I was physically shaking and I was feeling awfully nauseous.
"It appears," Dr. Adams stated after we were secluded in the hallway, "that Dominic has amnesia."
"Amnesia?" Vince questioned, unbelieving.
"Amnesia," Dr. Adams repeated. "Amnesia is a term used to cover the partial or complete loss of memory. It is most often a temporary condition and covers only a part of a person's experience, such as immediate memory. The causes of amnesia range from psychological trauma to brain damage caused by a blow to the head or conditions such as a brain tumor, a stroke or swelling of the brain. There are many definitions covering the different types of amnesia. Dominic has what we call, traumatic amnesia. He received a severe non-penetrative blow to the head during his accident. Before you got here, I was talking with him, and he didn't recognize his name. His coma or grogginess could've caused it; I was sure he would recognize his family, but it is understandable that he can't remember. I asked him a few questions too. He obviously knows what year it is, what country he's living in, and the current president's name, but his personal, social memory is gone. He has no identity. He knows nothing about the person he once was. Do you understand?"
Again, I felt like a helpless statue. This was all too much. Dom was supposed to be all right. I came to the hospital to see Dom—not some irritated man with no identity. He looked somewhat like Dominic, but he seemed like a helpless, crippled Dominic to me.
"What's important now," the doctor continued, "is that Dominic is out of his coma. I suggest you bring pictures, sentimental items—anything that will make a connection—with you tomorrow. Be patient. It isn't called 'traumatic amnesia' for nothing. All of this is very hard on him. He'll strain to remember once he's convinced his life was with you before the accident."
"Is he doing better?" Leon asked, suddenly speaking up with hopeful interest.
"His body is still pretty mangled at this point," Dr. Adams began, "but with some intense rehabilitation and encouragement from all of you, I believe Dominic will recover physically."
"And mentally?" Mia asked, tears streaming down her face.
"I'm afraid I can't answer that," the doctor said. "He may never remember."
Author: Melanie/thegamegirl14
Rating: NC-17 for language
Feedback: Of course!
Disclaimer: I DO NOT own any characters seen or mentioned from TF&TF (copyright Universal Pictures).
~*~
Chapter Four: Don't You Remember?
*****
We reached the hospital in record time, luckily escaping speeding tickets. We immediately went to his room where I could see him sitting up in bed, a doctor by his side with a clipboard. We slowly walked up to his bedside and he glanced over at us, his brows creased with confusion. No one said anything for a few minutes, so I finally said, "Hey, Dom."
He cocked his head to the side. "Who're you?" he asked.
******
"Wh-what?" I stuttered, sure I didn't hear him right.
"Do I know you?" he asked, his brows narrowing.
What the hell was wrong with him? I was expecting to come to the hospital—to throw my arms around him and never let go. His coma had frightened the daylights outta me, and now he was acting like I was a complete stranger? What the fuck?
"What's wrong, Dom?" I heard Mia ask her brother worriedly.
"What? Who's Dom?" he asked confusedly.
Vince, who was shifting and fidgeting behind me, laughed nervously, "That's you, brother."
Dom shook his head solemnly. "That's not my name," he stated calmly.
His voice was raspy, and his tone was weak. He looked confused and pitiful—the complete opposite of the Dominic Toretto I knew. Like Vince, he too was fidgeting, and all of this tension was unnerving me. His head was still bruised, but the cotton bandage had been removed. As we all stared at him strangely, he repeated, "That's not my name."
"Yes it is!" Mia insisted. "Dominic Toretto! C'mon Dom, I'm your sister. Quit acting like you don't know us!"
I saw fire in his eyes. His temper flared—he had Dom's temper, all right. "I've never seen you before in my life!" he assured her. "Any of you! Dr. Adams, who are these people?" he questioned breathlessly.
"Please, Ms. Toretto," Dr. Adams, who was standing beside Dom's bed, said to Mia. "Calm down. I must speak with all of you outside. I'll be back, sir."
He motioned for us to follow him, which we did reluctantly. All the while, I felt Dom's raging eyes on our backs, burning holes through us like pieces of thin cloth. I was so confused inside that I was physically shaking and I was feeling awfully nauseous.
"It appears," Dr. Adams stated after we were secluded in the hallway, "that Dominic has amnesia."
"Amnesia?" Vince questioned, unbelieving.
"Amnesia," Dr. Adams repeated. "Amnesia is a term used to cover the partial or complete loss of memory. It is most often a temporary condition and covers only a part of a person's experience, such as immediate memory. The causes of amnesia range from psychological trauma to brain damage caused by a blow to the head or conditions such as a brain tumor, a stroke or swelling of the brain. There are many definitions covering the different types of amnesia. Dominic has what we call, traumatic amnesia. He received a severe non-penetrative blow to the head during his accident. Before you got here, I was talking with him, and he didn't recognize his name. His coma or grogginess could've caused it; I was sure he would recognize his family, but it is understandable that he can't remember. I asked him a few questions too. He obviously knows what year it is, what country he's living in, and the current president's name, but his personal, social memory is gone. He has no identity. He knows nothing about the person he once was. Do you understand?"
Again, I felt like a helpless statue. This was all too much. Dom was supposed to be all right. I came to the hospital to see Dom—not some irritated man with no identity. He looked somewhat like Dominic, but he seemed like a helpless, crippled Dominic to me.
"What's important now," the doctor continued, "is that Dominic is out of his coma. I suggest you bring pictures, sentimental items—anything that will make a connection—with you tomorrow. Be patient. It isn't called 'traumatic amnesia' for nothing. All of this is very hard on him. He'll strain to remember once he's convinced his life was with you before the accident."
"Is he doing better?" Leon asked, suddenly speaking up with hopeful interest.
"His body is still pretty mangled at this point," Dr. Adams began, "but with some intense rehabilitation and encouragement from all of you, I believe Dominic will recover physically."
"And mentally?" Mia asked, tears streaming down her face.
"I'm afraid I can't answer that," the doctor said. "He may never remember."