Your Silver Sobriety Chip

Disclaimer: Characters and certain circumstances aren't mine.


Chapter 3

Deacon awoke from his coma a total seven days after the accident. At first he struggled with the breathing tube inserted in his trachea, but didn't have the strength to actually pull it out. Before he knew it a nurse had rushed in to his room removing the tube and fiddling with the all the medical equipment that surrounded him. He was being asked what seemed like stupid questions by a doctor, yet still couldn't seem to find the answers. The first few were okay, "Can you tell me what your name is?"

He was surprised when he was able to find his voice, ""Deacon Claybourne," he croaked.

"The year?" the doctor asked. That question had stumped him so he tried to narrow it down to a decade.

"I'm not sure, the late 90s?" he guessed. He couldn't tell if he was correct or not, the doctor's reaction was not very telling.

"Do you recall what happened that landed you here, Mr. Claybourne?" the doctor asked.

"I'm guessing I went on a bender and fell down some stairs," he half joked in reply. No one in the room humored him with a laugh however. In fact, a figure across the room had gotten up from his seat and now accompanied the doctor standing over him, he did not look happy. It was a rather tall, heavily built black man that Deacon could not recall having met before. Yet he seemed to know Deacon well, judging by the fact that he was the only none medical staff in the room when he woke up, based on his lack of scrubs.

"Yah, Deacon something like that," the man said without a speck of humor. Deacon gathered that this man was awfully mad at him, though for what he didn't know.

"If you don't mind me asking," Deacon spat back," Who are you, and why are you giving me a hard time?"

The man looked taken a back with Deacon's response, the doctor finally let his mask slip for a split second, having raised his eyebrows revealing surprise. "Deacon," the man replied, his voice softer this time, "You don't remember me?" By this point Deacon knew he was supposed to be able to place this face, but couldn't for the life of him. "Coleman?" the man tried again. The blank look on Deacon's face suggested that the name added to the face didn't ring any bells. At that point the man named Coleman turned to the doctor, "I'm going to get Rayna in here, see if she can bring anything back." With that the man was gone, and Deacon was relieved. He didn't take to kindly to people's bad attitudes towards his drinking. Sure he ended up here in the hospital, now and again, but he hadn't hurt anyone else in the process, at least not yet.

As the doctor kept fiddling, Deacon got lost in his thoughts, that is until he heard swishing and footsteps becoming louder coming towards his room. The post coma pain was starting to kick in as he felt himself get woozy turning his head to the door. He quickly rested his head back on his pillow facing forward, his eyes closed to try to stop the room from spinning. "Deacon," he heard, it was a women's voice, one he recognized well.

"Ray?" he asked, eyes still closed.

"It's me babe," she replied. Deacon opened his eyes to see the love of his life in a wheel chair at his bedside, her left leg in a cast, with bandages scattered on the rest of her. She reached for his hand, and he gladly took hers, for the first time since waking up something made perfect sense to him, well everything but Rayna's injuries. "Coleman, told me you had woken up, I got here as soon as I could." Deacon could see she was smiling, but she was making that face she made when she was holding something back from him. They had known each other a long while, about eight years, before she cut her own demo or started headlining.

"Ray, what happened to us?" he looked at her with desperation in his eyes, he was clearly shaken up at the sight of her injuries.

"Deacon, what's the last thing you remember?" Rayna asked, holding her breath for the answer. He had to think for a second, but without breaking eye contact he responded.

"I remember...we were back stage in Portland…on your first big solo tour." Deacon replied. Rayna exhaled she couldn't hold back her frown at this, she remembered that night well, but that night had happened fifteen years ago. It was a few weeks before Deacon had gone to rehab for the first time.

Judging by the look on Rayna's face, Deacon could tell he had given the wrong answer…again. His first instinct was to comfort her, "Ray, I love you, if I'm responsible for this," he said gesturing to her injuries. "Then I'm sorry, my behavior starts becoming a problem, when I start hurting you too." When he was finished he could see tears welling up in Rayna's eyes.

"I love you too," Rayna replied, leaning in to kiss him on the cheek. Moments later they were awoken from their moment together by a cough coming from across the room.

"Rayna," Coleman said, as he motioned his head towards the door. Rayna acknowledged him and then turned back to Deacon.

"Honey, I'll be back in a bit, you best get some rest", with that Rayna wheeled herself out behind Coleman. Deacon rested his head back on his pillow, so few of the questions he had had been answered. He still didn't know who Coleman was supposed to be, what year it was, or what had landed him and Rayna in the hospital to begin with. He couldn't help but think he had done something stupid again, this time dragging her down with him, one thing he swore he'd never do.

Author's Notes: A bit of a wait on this one, Deacon doesn't know he's an alcoholic, but knows he has a risky lifestyle that hasn't become a problem for him just yet. He hasn't been to rehab yet, hence not knowing who Coleman is.

Thanks for the reviews, I appreciate them. Should have another chapter up tomorrow, and a new story the day after that.