Chapter Four
Roy still hadn't moved. It had been a week or so now, and he had been moved to a hospital so that they could keep him alive. And for some reason, the little family remained by his side. They felt attached to him, as if he were a relative, when in fact they didn't know him at all. They wanted to help, but there wasn't any way in which they could. Though, the doctor had said that talking to Roy would help.
"D'you think he'll ever wake up up?" Anne asked, boredly tapping her fingers against the arm of her leather chair. The family had been here nearly two hours, and still Roy hadn't moved. Even though it hadn't been long, thoughts of losing hope were already popping up. But, as the doctor had reasoned, there was always hope, though a coma could last years.
"I don't know." Marie answered slowly, studying Roy's pale face with warm brown eyes. "I hope so though." "Yeah .." Anne nodded, "Me too."
He couldn't remember being so happy. Well, yes, he could, but that had been a long time ago, and hadn't had such a fairy-tale feel to it. Whereas this, when Maes held him, kissed him, cradled him, it all had such a magical and wonderful feeling to it, even though on the border of his mind he knew that it wasn't real. He just wanted to hide from reality and stay here, locked within his own mind, where his fantasies were actually real.
It was amazing, really - he could feel everything perfectly. If he touched something, he felt it, properly, with all of his nerves. If he tasted something, it was there, stuck on his tastebuds. If he smelt something, it was locked away within his mind. Everything here was so real it was hard not to believe it and let himself just ... go. But he feared that if he let go of the knowledge that there was a life outside of this, that his body would give up and he would die, losing everything.
But he pushed such depressing thoughts away, instead burying his face against Maes' chest. He felt like a rag doll in the other's arms, and hated the thought that Maes and these sensations weren't real. "What's wrong, Roy?" Hughes' voice was gentle in his ear, something in Roy's posture telling him instantly that something was wrong. But Roy just shook his head, offering a small smile up at the other. "Nothing. Don't worry."
The voices from the Outside that he heard had been reduced to loud whispers, that he could ignore if he set his mind to it. He had learnt their names now - a girl, Anne, that would speak to him often, and her parents, Marie and Richard. They all seemed to be worried about him and that made him feel rather special.
"Don't lie to me," Maes murmured, pushing locks of Roy's hair out of his eyes, propping himself up on one elbow. "I know something's wrong." Roy didn't have the heart to tell him. How do you tell a memory, a mere fantasy, that you aren't real? It had to be simple, right? But ... Maes seemed real, in every single way. And that put doubts in Roy's mind.
"Don't worry," Roy repeated, clinging to the other. "It's nothing."