To Sleep…Perchance to Scream
Disclaimer: I do not own Digimon and its characters, nor am I making any money from this. This is done purely for fun.
Warnings: This story disregards the ending of season 02. The Digital World is still a secret except for the Digi-destined. And this story contains violence, angst, and some mild language. I have only seen the American version of Digimon.
As always, I thank my sister Reber for getting me involved in yet another anime obsession as well as letting me post this fic under her name on FFN. And to Megchan, whose Digimon encyclopedia was invaluable.
A special thank you for those of you who have reviewed To Sleep. Your encouragement means a lot to me!
Chapter 8
Ken Ichijouji…
…woke up.
He woke still trying to scream Davis's name. But all that forced its past his parched lips was a hoarse croak. His eyes flared open as he swallowed, hearing a dry click in his throat. The first thing he noticed was that he wasn't dead.
One didn't need to be a genius to figure out the difference between being alive and being, well, dead, but Ken was a little disoriented.
Scratch that. He was a lot disoriented. So he could be forgiven for starting with baby steps.
Once the matter of his state of animation was resolved, Ken, being the genius kind of person that he was, immediately moved from What Am I? (as in alive or dead) to Where am I?
He was lying on a bed made up with crisp, white sheets, in a bland room. There was a stand next to the bed sporting a vase of wilted flowers as its only adornment. A television hung from a rack on the wall across from the foot of his bed. It was turned on, showing the local sports scores. A lone chair sat in the corner and a half-filled bag of liquid hung above his head. He tracked a clear tube from the bottom of the bag to a needle stuck in his left arm.
Deduction: he was in the hospital.
Ken frowned. Next question: Why was he in the hospital? Tentatively, he moved his fingers and hands and arms. Aside from being very stiff, they seemed to be in working order. He repeated the process with his feet and legs. All functioning. Puzzled, Ken sat up, trying to ignore the protesting back muscles the movement caused. Everything seemed to be intact. So there were no obvious answers to his questions.
He examined his bed. It had railings like his bed at home, but these seemed to detach. Not wanting to waste time trying to figure out how they worked, Ken pushed the sheets aside, intending to slide down to the foot of the bed and go find out what was going on. To his disgust, he realized he was wearing one of those hospital gowns that didn't close in the back.
Image versus knowledge. It was the age-old war that has divided the nerds from the popular kids for centuries.
The door opened abruptly, and a young man in a white coat walked in, carrying a stack of charts. He didn't look at Ken; instead he sat down in the chair, leaned back and started scribbling notes in a typical doctor scrawl.
Ken watched quietly as the doctor put down the first chart, and start on the second one. Never one to waste an opportunity like this, Ken opened his mouth and croaked, "Excuse me."
With a yelp, the young doctor flew out of the chair, scattering his charts all over the floor. He spun around and stared at Ken like the boy had suddenly risen up out of the earth. "You're awake!" he gasped.
Ken blinked. "Of course I am," he replied, his voice hoarse. He frowned and swallowed again. "I can see why you became a doctor, nothing gets by you."
The doctor, whose ID tag read Tori Akira, MD, tried to recover from the shock of seeing Ken awake. Grimacing, Dr. Akira rolled his eyes. "I think I liked you better when you were asleep," he muttered, then grinned to show he was only kidding. He walked over to the bed, stepping over the charts on the floor and reached a hand out towards Ken's face.
Ken shied back on instinct, not wanting to be touched.
"Take it easy, young man. I'm just going to examine you," Dr. Akira said in his best bedside manner. He pulled out a stethoscope and held it up as proof.
Forcing himself to sit still, Ken submitted to the doctor. Dr. Akira tilted Ken's head up so he could examine his eyes. "You really gave me a scare," he said absently. "I came in here to get some peace and quiet so I could catch up on some paper work. Thanks to you, I now have more."
"So why am I in here?" Ken asked, trying to get his mind off the horrifying fact that the doctor was touching him.
"Do you remember what happened?" Dr. Akira asked.
Glaring at the doctor, Ken forced patience into his rusty voice. "If I remembered what happened, I wouldn't have asked," he said pointedly.
"I see you have forgotten your manners as well," the doctor said, and Ken, refusing to feel repentant, only stared back at Akira, waiting for an answer. Sighing, Dr. Akira gave in. "All right, let me go talk to the nurse, then we'll talk."
Nodding, Ken watched Dr. Akira gather up his charts and leave. He wished for a drink of water, swallowing was still painful. Tugging in irritation at the IV line, Ken settled himself down and waited for the doctor to return with the promised explanation. Now that he was a little more alert, he noted his surroundings and with a surge of surprise, he realized that he was back in the real world.
So what had happened in the fight with Daemon? Did the others show up at the last minute and pull of one of their trademark rescues? The fact that Ken was still among the living was testament that there had been some sort of victory. Had he been badly hurt and brought back here to heal?
Mulling this over, Ken looked for a phone to call Davis. He wanted the Motoyimas to come and get him as soon as possible. He hated hospitals. To add to his irritation, there was no phone in the room. After what seemed an eternity, Dr. Akira came back. He was carrying a pitcher of water, and a cup. He poured some water and handed the cup to Ken, who drank gratefully.
"Okay," Dr. Akira settled down in the chair with another chart on his lap. Ken raised an eyebrow, but he was used to dealing with adults, and wasn't fazed in the least. "Let's start with some easy questions. What is your name?"
"Ken Ichijouji," Ken answered.
"How old are you?"
"Twelve. What am I doing here?"
"Don't believe in beating around the bush, do you?" Dr. Akira closed his chart and pinned a stare at Ken. "I guess there is no real gentle way to tell you this, so I'll just take a page from your book and get right to the point. You have been in a coma for three months."
Ken looked at him. And looked at him. He opened his mouth, then closed it and then looked at him some more. Finally, he managed to find his voice. "Excuse me, I think I might have misheard you. Did you say that I've been in a coma for three months?"
Dr. Akira nodded. "A little over actually."
"Why?"
Dr. Akira shrugged. "We don't know. You had been missing for a long time. Run away is what I heard. Then one day, you turned up on your parents' doorstep, unconscious. They weren't able to wake you when your parents rushed you to the emergency room. Eventually you were transferred here to the long-term care facility. You've been in the coma the whole time."
Ken unconsciously scratched the base of his skull as he tried to absorb what Dr. Akira had told him. There was something nagging at him. He could feel that something was wrong, but he was having a hard time figuring out what it was. Then the door to his room opened and Ken looked up.
Dr. Akira looked up and smiled. "Hello! Look whose finally awake," he greeted the newcomers.
"Oh my goodness! Ken!" his mother stopped in the doorway, tears already flowing down her cheeks as she stared at the boy as one would stare at a mirage. "Ken, you're finally awake!" she sobbed. Behind her, Mr. Ichijoiuji placed a comforting hand on her shoulder and smiled at his son. His eyes too, were a little misty.
The doctor looked back at Ken and stopped smiling.
Ken had not moved; but now his normally white skin was almost gray. The whites of his eyes were clearly visible as he stared at his parents. His mouth opened but no sound came out.
"Ken?" Mrs. Ichijouji asked as she approached the bed. "How are you feeling? Its so good to see you awake at last." She reached out, intending to hug her son.
Ken scrambled back until his back was pressed up again the wall at the head of the bed, the tube connecting him to the IV swinging wildly. He found his voice. "You're dead!" he rasped.
"What?" his father asked in confusion. "No we're not. Ken, are you okay?" he asked, very concerned.
Shaking his head violently, Ken pressed even tighter against the wall, as if he were trying to become part of it. "No, you're dead," he insisted.
Dr. Akira had stood up by this time. "Ken? Why would you think that your parents are dead?" he asked gently, motioning for the Ichijouji's to move away from the boy.
"The bridge!" Ken snapped, not moving away from the wall, and not taking his eyes from his parents. "The bridge, it collapsed on them and killed them. Daemon…" Ken stopped, his eyes narrowing as his thoughts took a suspicious turn. "I get it now," he murmured. Raising his voice, he accused, "You aren't real!"
"What, Ken?" Mr. Ichijouji asked, holding his wife in his arms, trying to give her his strength as their son muttered incoherently.
"Of course! This isn't real! It's a trick! Daemon is behind this!" Ken hissed.
"Who?" Dr. Akira asked. He was getting worried. Ken had seemed normal when he had first woken up, but now…
"Daemon! You won't get away with this!" Ken shouted at the ceiling, not caring that his hospital gown was slipping down around his shoulders. "You hear me? You won't!"
"Ken, calm down!" Dr. Akira reached out to try to restrain the seemingly hysterical boy.
As quick as a cat, Ken leaped off the bed to avoid the doctor. "Don't touch me!" he ordered. "You're a part of this too, aren't you?" Ken accused, glaring at the doctor. "Who are you? Bakamon?" he demanded angrily. He backed into the corner and jerked the IV needle out of his arm.
Dr. Akira turned to Mr. Ichijouji and motioned for his to follow him out of the room. "Go ask the nurse to please bring something to restrain the patient, and maybe have some orderlies join us as well."
Mr. Ichijouji looked worried, but did as he was asked. Dr. Akira entered the room once more. Ken was still in the corner, looking for all the world like a trapped panther. His violet eyes blazed like twin suns from underneath his straight black hair. Ken's mother was standing in the middle of the room, looking completely baffled by her son's strange behavior. She jumped when the doctor tapped her on the arm.
"Does Ken have a history of mental instability?" he asked quietly. Ken glared at him, but didn't move.
Mrs. Ichijouji shook her head. "He was always such a sweet boy," she answered helplessly.
Dr. Akira, seeing that she wasn't going to be much help, turned to Ken. "Who is Daemon?" he asked again.
Ken snarled in reply. "He's the Digimon who is trying to get me and make me his slave. But you know that already."
"Digimon?" Dr, Akira was mystified. "What's that?"
"A digital monster. They live in the Digital world," Ken said in a perfectly reasonable voice. "Where is Davis? And Wormmon?" he demanded.
Dr. Akira was very concerned by now. "Digital world? What's that? Have you been there?" He wanted to keep Ken talking as long as possible. Maybe he could get a fix on what sort of delusions were affecting the child genius.
"Of course!" Ken snapped impatiently. "I am…was…the Digimon Emperor. I ruled the Digital world!" He broke off when three large orderlies along with Ken's father entered the room. The child crouched down and brought his arms up in a classic stance, glaring in hate at them.
"Does he know any martial arts?" one of the orderlies asked.
"Oh yes! He has a black belt in judo!" his mother replied, standing off to the side, still looking lost.
"Great," the doctor muttered, his voice thick with sarcasm. "Okay boys. Be as gentle as you can, he just woke up and is feeling disoriented."
The three orderlies nodded, and spread out. Mr. Ichijouji pulled his wife out into the hall and closed the door, her sobs echoing in the quiet corridor.
In the room, Ken pressed his back into the corner, so he wouldn't get blindsided. His heart was racing and his eyes narrowed in anger. He waited for them to make the first move.
Dr. Akira tried one last time. "Ken, please. Let us help you," he offered.
Ken shook his head. "Forget it, I'm not falling for any of Daemon's tricks"
Nodding to the three orderlies, Dr. Akira sighed. This was not going to be pretty.
And it wasn't. As soon as one of the orderlies got within reach, Ken's fist flew out and buried itself into his stomach. As the orderly doubled over, Ken snap-kicked him right in the jaw. As the orderly sank to the ground, Ken spun and faced his next opponent, his breathing harsh as he forced his muscles to remember ingrained moves. But it was hard. His body was weak and wasn't responding as fast as he was used to, and that was throwing him off.
His next opponent obviously knew some martial arts and he was able to block Ken's strikes. That kept Ken occupied enough for the third orderly to tackle the boy and pin him to the ground.
Feeling strange hands upon him, preventing him from moving, made Ken lose it. Tossing aside any poise and grace, Ken bit, kicked and screamed in his rage as he fought. "Get off of me!" he shrieked. "Don't touch me!" The two remaining orderlies picked up the furiously fighting child and set him down on the bed. One pinned his hands above his head, and the other held his feet in an iron grip.
"Nurse!" Dr. Akira called, and the nurse walked in with a syringe filled with some liquid.
Seeing it, Ken redoubled his efforts to free himself. He struggled so hard that he almost did break free. But his body was too weak, and after a while all he could do was sob quietly in frustration and helpless rage. He jumped when he felt the needle prick his skin, and soon his limbs felt much too heavy to move. Kindness' Child lay unmoving on the bed, tears streaming unchecked down his cheeks. His vision kept going in and out of focus as he fought the effects of the sedative.
"Shall we put him in restraints Doctor?" one of the orderlies asked.
"Yes, I think it's for the best, until we can get an idea of what's wrong with him," Dr. Akira said. The first orderly staggered to his feet, and was helped out of the room, passing Ken's parents on the way in.
"Doctor?" Ken's mother asked, her eyes red from crying.
"He's sedated for now. I think that is best that he be restrained until we can find out what the cause of this behavior is." Dr. Akira sighed.
Mrs. Ichijouji cautiously approached the bed. Ken's hospital gown had come off during the fight, and he lay exposed, shivering faintly. Tenderly, she drew the sheet over him up his chest. Reaching up, she stroked the fine black hair, damp with sweat, away from the half-lidded eyes. He shuddered under her fingertips.
"Oh Ken," she whispered brokenly.
Dr. Akira sighed. "I'm afraid that we have a very deluded boy on our hands."
TBC