Hello again all. I've been sensing lately that you guys aren't reading my little before-and-after author notes. -_- Ah, but that's ok. As long as you take time to read the story. But there is one thing…

I DREW A PICTURE. Ha! Try and not read THAT! Well, anyway, I wanted to get thine attention to inform you that I have, indeed, sketched a little something for this fafic. I had it listed at the bottom of the last chapter, but just in case you missed it, here's the link again. All you have to do is remove the parenthesis, and you'll have the link. http(:)//fav(.)me(/)d29rqsc

One more really quick thing. The beginning of this chapter is going to get real confusing, real quick. IT'S OK. You're not supposed to get it all. If you're confused at parts, it's so you can identify with the idea of chaos I'm attempting to portray.

There must have been something off about him. I mean, he knew he was different, but weren't you supposed to see black when you died? Or got knocked out, Wybie wasn't sure witch one he was experiencing yet. Well, in either case, he didn't see any black. He saw two colors, one out of each eye.

One was white. Bright white. Unnatural white, not the kind that decorated his room, an off-white that made him dizzy after laying on his bed and staring at it for hours; blank, empty, a sensation of falling- no, it wasn't that kind of white. It was too bright, to clean and pure.

If this was heaven, then he wished he could have gotten hell. At least that would have been more interesting.

Then there was the red. That could be hell, he guessed. It was bright though, not dark, fresh and stinging, swirling. That eye felt pressure, too. Not a pulsing, though it was close, no, just pressure- like it was full, and heavy- not like a normal eye should feel.

What kind of person goes half to heaven and half to hell? Wybie wondered what it would be like to be normal and sighed to himself.

Then there was the lack of all other sensations. He didn't feel anything else. No arms or legs, toes, fingers, neck or back. He had a bit of an understanding that he owned a head, but it wasn't his. It was to heavy and big to be his, and his nervous system wasn't hooked up to it right, he couldn't move it.

At that point, the left side of his brain seemed to wake up, and recite pi to itself, like numbers running across a computer start up screen.

"You memorized the first 50 digits of pi?!"

"F-for extra credit, yeah."

"You're already getting an A! What do you want, an A+?!"

"That would be nice."

She laughed. "You're phenomenal, Wybie."

3.14159265358979323846264338327950288419716939937510…

"Ah!"

And he was up!

Wybie bolted to a sitting position, now aware that he had been on his back.

And…now he wasn't.

He fell off whatever he was on, dragging things with him to beeping crashing cacophonies around him. Ow. Pain. That was…normal (sadly). Wybie moaned as the pain increased. Ow. Ow! OW!

"Ahhh!" And this wasn't normal pain. His leg hurt and his head, his eye…

A gasp. "Someone get another nurse in here!" soft, fast steps. Then he saw the shoes out of his 'white' eye. Comfy, plain, and safe shoes. Nurse shoes. And he suddenly knew were he was.

There was a loud beeping. It didn't stop on and off, one pitch to another like a siren; it was one long, dull and yet sharp noise. Like a headache. Which Wybie now had.

I suppose he was aware of this in some way, but this level of physical discomfort was new to him. Even that other time it had hurt in a different way then this did... The pain was too close to his brain, messing up his thoughts, and the scary part was he couldn't remember things. He forgot what color eyes he had, what running, walking, using your legs felt like. What was his third hour class? And of course, the question of how and why he was in the hospital. The confusion fogged his mind even more until asking questions was to much for him.

There were hands now- many hands- grabbing everywhere, lifting and hurting. Wybie couldn't tell if he was moaning or screaming. Then they stopped, letting go of him. He was higher up now. The white nothingness was everywhere in his right eye, and the bright red eye was even heavier, the headache concentrating itself behind his left eye.

And something was wrong. His heavy head thrashed to the side and his face was contorted on the left side- or was it right?- well, that side anyway. It was shaped oddly, and not connected. There was no feeling; whatever was over that eye was not a part of him. He lifted his hand and felt the bloated spot. His first reaction was to move it, get it off. This must be what was hurting his head, and making his eye red.

Wybie clawed at it, scraping it off. He screamed. It hurt- worse- like someone had stuck a needle in it, all the way through, piercing into the back of his brain. And then something scraped the socket, trying to tare the eye out of his head, but it was stopped.

And for a split second, the world was in hues of red. Upside-down, too… A human form walked on the sealing toward him, light red lab coat flapping as its dark red face spoke unheard words. Wybie felt a prick in his arm, the sensation almost lost in the waves of pain in his head. Almost immediately, the agony slowly left…his 'red' eye turned black, his 'white' eye to gray-scale.

Why was he in the hospital? Was he hurt? Well, he hurt, so he must be hurt…but how did he get hurt…he couldn't remember…

As the pain leaked away further, his tired, heavy head lolled to the side. An old-time movie played black-and-white. It was Coraline, bandages wrapped over her arm and head, the rest of her hidden under the covers of a clean-cut hospital bed. It must have been a silent movie, because her lips were moving but he couldn't hear any sound. He squinted as his vision faded, trying to read his friends lips since there weren't any subtitles.

"It's okay Wybie, you're okay Wybie…Wybie…"

Coraline…

She had been in an accident, she knew now. The doctors had told her over and over that she had been in an accident; That they had called her parents, that she was going to be ok.

Thinking back it had been two accidents really. The motorcycle wipe-out that she had caused being the first. While they were recovering from that, they hadn't noticed that the once far-off dot on the horizon had developed into a semi. After they had skidded out and into his lane the driver had slammed on the breaks, skidding his full load to a stop. He hadn't hit them. But he did hit the motorcycle that had slid a few meters more then they had. It was the property of inertia in motion. The semi hit the bike and stopped, but now the motorcycle had the energy, and it flew forward instead- and into them.

And Coraline remembered the feeling of getting hit, then blackness. She wished that she could have stayed knocked out. Instead she regained consciousness before the ambulance was there. How much earlier she couldn't say. All she remembered before fading back into the shadows of unconsciousness was Wybie-

There was a cut high on his forehead above his left eye and it poured crimson blood down into his eye, overflowing on the edges and down the same ridges tears would run. The white of his eye was no longer white, but the same frightening red. He looked possessed-demonic- with that eye, and Coraline had screamed-screamed until the sirens screamed louder and she elapsed into grateful darkness.

She was injured- but she had to take the nurse's word for that. They were scared of her falling asleep, but were also scared of he being awake. So in an unhappy-medium, she had been drugged to the point of vegetablism. She had to fight to do simple things like wonder how Wybie was, or where her parents were. She couldn't feel any pain from any of the injuries she was told she had. She couldn't feel anything. Not cold, not hot, not her lungs breathing or her heart beating. All these she had to have on faith.

She had to force herself to piece together the things she noticed. She was in the emergency room. They were still in the same room, Wybie and her, though a curtain was drawn between them. There had been panic- impromptu surgery- many people and voices rushing in and out- all on Wybie's side. It scared Coraline. She had to work to make her mind become concerned through all the anesthesia. And finally, when it had calmed down and the curtain pulled back, the chaos started again. All the pagers of what seemed like every doctor in the hospital went off at the same time. There had been a car accident- a pile-up on a highway, and they disappeared like phantoms into different parts of the ward.

Then Coraline let herself rest, and tried to sleep. She stopped trying to think, to worry and wonder and feel. She called sleep. Asking for it. And maybe it came- fleetingly, fading in and out, ebb and flow.

Like underwater, her ears almost heard the commotion Wybie caused. Finally awake, he sat up- to fast- and fell to the side, off the bed. Staff rushed in, helping him back on the bed. It took all of them.

Wybie wasn't in reality. His eyes darted about the room, not truly seeing. He must have noticed the huge bandage and gauze that patched his eye, because he scraped at it, tearing it from his face. Fresh red blood, like red pen on a returned rough draft. Spilling, running, swelling. And Wybie yelled. And his good eye almost rolled back into his head- she could almost hear the strain on his gritting teeth. His hand reached at the eye and gouged it. His other hand lifted to stop the other, fighting himself off. A doctor restrained him then, and a nurse stuck a sputtering needle into his arm. His tense, shaking body relaxed slowly, melting against the bed. His eyes lidded and his head lolled to the side, facing her. For the first time he seemed to see her. He wasn't hearing her though. Her calling and reassuring fell on deaf ears as his pupil dilated and slid to a complete shut.

Coraline felt a stinging in her eyes. She threw the covers off herself and tentatively tried to slide her leg off the side of the bed. Her minimal and careful effort produced an amazing pain.

"Miss Jones! Please, stay on the bed, don't try and move." A panicked nurse rushed to her side.

"But Wybie-"

"Mister Lovat is fine. Please, we don't want you to hurt yourself." The nurse helped situate Coraline and tuck her in. Tightly. Wrapped like a mummy, there was no question of her immobility now.

Mister Lovat? That was new. Coraline almost laughed. Wybie was not a mister of any kind, let alone a mister Lovat. Coraline looked about the room, amazed that her ability to think and concentrate had come back. Things were clearer now, the fog over her world lifting, her head lighter. She watched the nurse circle around her bed to her IV drip.

"Is Wybie going to be ok?"

"He'll be as good as new soon." She responded without looking at her, though she seemed sincere enough. "He was lucky." She paused as she taped a button and recorded something down on a clipboard from the end of her bed. "Though not as lucky as you. Good thing you had a helmet on. One broken leg and a bruised arm could have been a lot worse with a head injury like you're friend's added to it."

Coraline looked at the nurse a while before answering. "I didn't have the helmet on."

The nurse smiled and tapped her clipboard "Yes, you did." She flipped to the second page and confirmed herself. "See?" She handed it to Coraline.

Nodding carefully down, carline make out the chicken-scratch of a rushed paramedic reporting her condition at the crash sight. "No serious head injury- wearing helmet" Well, that wasn't true. Neither of them were wearing the helmet.

Coraline's eyebrows pulled together. "This isn't right."

The nurse turned to her, concern in her features. "Caroline…you hit your head,"

"Coraline" the girl thought, but didn't bother to actually correct the nurse. She had more important matters to deal with. "Well, according to your account that wouldn't have done any damage." She was angry now. Annoyed. She was right. Wasn't she? "If anything, Wybie would have been the one wearing the helmet. It was his, after all."

"Caroline," Coraline "-Miss Jones, your friend Wyborne-" she said it wrong. Wy-born, not Wy-burn "-Has a serious eye injury. He's lucky he'll be able to see out of it again. He couldn't have received that injury if he had a helmet on." She said this firmly, but not cruelly, taking the clipboard back from Coraline. Her voice stated it was the end of the conversation.

"Now." She began a new topic "Let's see about getting you your own room so you don't have to share one with a boy, shall we?"

Coraline wasn't listing. She had turned to look at Wybie. Had he…?

With a shiff the nurse hooked the clipboard back to Coraline's bed and produced a needle. Holding it upside-down, she gave it a couple flicks, and a spirt of liquid came out form the tip. Wordless, she inserted it into Coraline's IV tube before discarding it and walking to the door.

Coraline immediately felt the affect of the drug, her senses forced back and her mind fading to a dead sleep.

"Goodnight, Caroline."

Coraline…

The bored, half awake days at the hospital that followed next dragged on. When she awoke for the first time after the night of the crash, she was in a new room- One without Wybie. Her parents visited her when they could. They brought her treats, flowers, and worried over her. Her mother offered Coraline the use of her old neck supports, which her daughter vehemently refused. She got some cards from other friends and family, but most of Coraline's time was just spent staring at the ceiling.

She didn't like having this much time on her hands. She thought too much.

"Jonesy…"

…

"Jonesy…!"

…No…let me sleep…

"Hey, Jonesy!"

"WHAT?!"

"Shhh! Not so loud!" Wybie was whispering as loud as he could.

Coraline rolled over, twisting, contorting, and stretching. She hated waking up. It was the worst part of sleeping. There was always that part where you had to stop sleeping. But wasn't that the worst part of anything; the end?

Coraline opened her eyes slooowly- Heavy eyes stuck together at the edges with sand courtesy of the Sandman. There was Wybie. Standing next to her bed, adorned in his stylish hospital shirt and pants pajama combo, along with half his head wrapped up like a dead Egyptian. Yep.

The awakened girl glanced at the clock on the wall. 2:40-ish. Then she looked towards the window. Pitch black outside. AM then. Yep.

"Wybie?" She turned to him. The attentive boy gave her a look telling her he was listening. Good. "Why the hell are you in my room?"

"Technically it's th-the hospital's r-room."

"Well I'm in it. Sleeping, actually. Or I was." Coraline's words made Wybie hunch over and wring his hands, shuffle his feet. She didn't mean to be that harsh. Coraline sighed "Sorry."

"…"

"…What is it?" Coraline remembered now- now that she was more awake. What had happened before the crash- why she had caused the crash- what he had said. And the day before, how tag had turned into- well, it was an accident, of course, the feeling of his lips…

Coraline shook her head. No! Bad Coraline! Wybie is not someone you think about kissing!

Coraline's heart jumped. She had to open her eyes. She didn't want to. She wished that she could leap two days back in time and make sure none of this happened.

"C-Coraline? Y-you ok?"

Coraline couldn't help but let a little giggle escape. "Hey, that's my line Mr. visiting-in-the-middle-of-the-night." She opened her eyes. She was smiling. Inside, she was panicked. Fearful for why he was here.

"Oh, umm, yeah…" he continued his fiddling. Coraline tried to sit up, but hissed in pain. "Ah!" Wybie rushed forward. Steady, slow, smooth, and controlled movements helped lift her torso. Using the pillow as a prop, Coraline was now sitting up. Then there was silence between them. It was thick quiet. Wybie felt obligated to say something.

"S-s-s-o…y-you broke y-your l-"

"What are you here for, Wybie?" Coraline cut him off. "No offence, but I was sleeping and stuff…" she tried to be tactful. Wybie was getting the drift.

"Yeah, down to brass tacks…" He mumbled.

"What?"

"What, you've never heard that phrase before?" He gave her a blank expression and stopped fidgeting.

"No…" Coraline dragged the syllable out, like the answer should be obvious.

"M-my grandma uses it all the time-"

"You're Grandma is ninety."

"Eighty-eight!" He defended with mock seriousness. "And she doesn't look a day over seventy-five!"

"Whatever." Coraline smiled. This felt normal, at least. "Back to brass tacks, then. What's up?" She caught Wybie's gaze. "Tell me."

Wybie half closed his visible eye and became very intent with his fingernail before he started to talk. "We haven't really seen each other since the accident…"

Coraline's heartbeat increased. He wasn't…looking for an answer…from before the accident…was he?

"See, I talked with the doctor…well, I talked with a lot of people…" His eye wondered aimlessly around the room, bouncing from wall to wall. He was getting dizzy. Wybie closed his eyes. He lifted his hand and taped a finger against the bandaged side of his head. "I hit my head pretty hard…" he paused. Opening his eyes he locked gazes with Coraline. Her heartbeat stopped from his look.

"I can't remember things. The last couple days are all…fuzzy. No that's not right." His eye closed again, a look of concentration on his face. "More like they went through a shredder. And I only got back a handful of scraps." His unbandaged eye opened again. His look was earnest. "I d-don't want to worry my Grandma. If she knew that this accident hit the memories right out of me…well…"

Coraline wasn't…getting it. He'd lost his memory? Only of the last couple days? Then, he had forgotten- when she fell from the tree, before the crash on the motorcycle- He'd forgotten…those moments.

Why did that make her sad?

She should be overjoyed. It was just like she wished. The last couple days erased from memory and existence. Back to the way they were before. It was perfect, right? Then why did her eyes sting- why did breathing become a labor- why did she feel…crushed…

"You can't remember…any of it? The accident- nothing?" Coraline couldn't believe it.

Wybie shook his head. "No, just…just a couple b-bits and pieces…"

"…Then…" Coraline tried to make sense of it all and failed. "Then what?"

"W-well, I came here because I can't remember- but you do, right?" Wybie took a step closer. "You can tell me what happened, o-our stories will match, and my Grandma doesn't worry herself sick. My eye is bad enough. I-" Wybie bit his lip and turned away, a hand cupping the back of his neck. He took a stance facing away from her, hands on his hips, looking at the ceiling.

"See, I h-haven't told you… I-I mean, I-I've only known for about a month and Grandma t-told me not to tell you…" a serene look took Wybie's features. "Gram's dying…"

Over 3,100 words. O.o My goodness. They're getting longer. Watch out!

Ok, ok, so here's the deal- I acquired major writer's block after the nurse knocks Coraline out with the drug. So, to try and cure it, I did what I always did- wrote. I just wrote whatever. So it become long, confusing, an tedious. I personaly didn't know what to keep and what to toss out of it, so I left it all in. It didn't turn out like what I wanted it, but I thought I'd go ahead and post it anyways. Please please please don't take to it to harshly! It. 2 AM right now! I'm trying!!!

Much love, don't forget to review!