Author's note: I've been looking forward to this chapter for a long time. I'd be lying if I said I didn't build the entire story around this chapter. I had so much fun writing the first sketch of it, and then going in and fleshing it out. I guess "fun" sounds pretty morbid when you think about it, but anyone who writes excessively knows that it's fun to explore the extremes of human feeling. Because pain, pleasure, and overall emotions are as strong as the personality type perceives them, I'm not a believer in "unrealistic" pain. I know I tend to feel twenty times worse than the doctor tells me I am, because when you think about it you expect it to hurt. That kind of thing. Someone understands what I'm saying, right? Lol.

Hikari Yagami had seen a lot of strange things in her life time. She had ridden on the back of a giant dinosaur-like digimon, and seen the computer in her dad's study birth an egg (although she recalled little of both of those events that her brother remembered clearly, and with a shudder). She had seen a cat talk, been taken captive by a giant bubble, seen Taichi cry, Yamato actually apologize for something, and Takeru lose his cool. Her brother and friends had been kidnapped by a miserable, lonely digimon looking for his lost partner, saved the world twice (once as an eight year old girl), witnessed greed and self-sacrifice, and been called to another world to mate with the Digimon that lived there (as if that wasn't enough to make you twitch, the world was also black and white and full of your most secret nightmares).

But she had never, throughout all of that, felt as though she wasn't in her body. As surreal as it all was, she knew it was happening. She had never doubted it when Wizardmon died, when Tailmon had declared herself Hikari's partner, or when her body had been possessed by the spirit of her crest, or whatever it was. She had never felt like an observer of her own life. She had never had that proclaimed "out of body experience". But she felt it now. Her body felt so weighed down by... something. And her mind didn't like it. It was like she was drifting, walking but sitting, talking but silent. Like she was two people, sharing a body, and one of those people had decided to go out for a while. It was a strange feeling, and she wasn't sure she liked it, but it seemed like a lot of energy to call the other person back. What was she going to do, tell it she was lonely? And then she felt silly, because there wasn't anyone else there. Was there?

And then it was over, and god her head hurt, but she couldn't move yet. Her body wasn't listening to her, and that was alright. She wasn't listening to anything else either. Not at first, anyways. The world felt very calm, and peaceful, and quiet. She felt happy, and content, like you did when you took pain killers after getting a tooth pulled at the dentist. There was nothing that could kill that drugged high. Actually, now that she thought about it, it felt exactly like pain killers, like she was numb. And she was happy like that. She wanted to be numb. There was this nagging feeling deep, deep down where she supposed that person who had gone for a walk must live, telling her there was something she was supposed to be thinking about, something she needed to remember. But she didn't really feel like remembering at the moment. She was floating on a cloud, dancing on a rain drop, flying with her fingers brushing against the ocean's spray off the waves. She didn't want some silly thought to ruin her happiness.

That nagging feeling was rebelling though, calling her an idiot and telling her to wake up. That was absolutely preposterous, wasn't it. She was awake! She thought. Maybe? She couldn't hear; where was she, that it was so silent? But even as she thought that, she began to hear things. It was like having ear plugs in. You could still hear, but it was muffled, as though it were a far away conversation. Because it was certainly a conversation. And that stupid nagging feeling that was ruining her precious silence was telling her that the voices were familiar. She knew the people talking. And as she thought that, the conversation slowly became clearer. Now it was more like diving into a pool, and hovering with your head just below the surface, so that you could hear everyone laughing and talking, but the waves distorted the sound. She groaned. It was giving her a headache, this low hum of conversation. It hesitated. Her precious silence, it was back!

She had thought, at least, that she had slipped back into her silence, that happy little bubble of warmth, and safety, and ignorance that, although she knew deep down in her heart that it was wrong to stay there, felt like the best place in the world. Both worlds. Faded memories were playing behind her closed eyelids like an old home movie. Some of them were missing dialogue, like silent plays, but others had snatches of conversation that sounded just as dim and unclear as the conversation that had invaded her silence. She wanted it back. She didn't want to think. She didn't want to! It felt dangerous, this collection of memories. If it kept playing long enough, something bad would happen. She felt a terror that she couldn't understand without that memory, but she didn't want to understand it either. She groaned again. She had such a headache...

The voices were talking again. Clear, but low. They were whispering, she realized dimly. She didn't really care. She just wanted them to stop.

"Is she awake?"

"I dunno... Her eyes are shut."

Was that Yamato-kun? Since when was he so noisy? She wanted to tell him to be quiet; didn't he realize she wanted silence? A song wouldn't be so bad... She could get lost in a song, just like she could get lost in the dark, warm silence. But she didn't understand why she wanted to get lost. Was that bad, not wanting to be found? Did that make her a bad person, Nii-san? Nii-san? Where was he? He was always here. Panic was rising in her chest, it hurt to breathe and she was frightened. She didn't hear her Nii-san's voice. She wasn't safe, was she? She needed him. It was important, he had to be here. She didn't know why, but he had to be. He had to be!

"Hikari-chan?" That wasn't Nii-san. That was Takeru. Oh, Takeru-kun! Her breath fluttered, but then it slowed down a little. She felt a little more calm, hearing Takeru's voice. But there was something very important, the nagging voice told her again. It was louder now, more demanding. She couldn't push it away anymore, out of the bubble around her consciousness. It wanted to talk to Takeru, it wanted him to understand something. It wanted him to not be mad at her.

"Takeru-kun?" Her throat felt raw, and she almost cried at the pain it caused to talk. But she had to, the stupid voice in her head wouldn't leave her alone. His hand was on her hand, and gripping it so hard that it almost hurt. But it was a good hurt. It was safe. "Takeru-kun, the phone... I'm sorry, I--"

"You didn't hang up on me," he said quietly. He sounded upset. Really upset, that way he sounded when he was smiling and trying not to cry, but his eyes were probably really bright. But her eyes wouldn't open. They felt heavy. She felt tired, so, so tired, and she wanted to curl back up in that bubble and go back to sleep. But she couldn't. The others were talking now, and they sounded excited and Takeru was upset. They wanted her awake; she couldn't be so selfish, to take from them what they wanted. But she didn't understand. Why didn't they want to let her sleep? She was tired. It wasn't very nice, to keep someone up when they were tired. She tried to return the pressure on Takeru's grip, but it was too hard. She managed little more than a twitch, and in return he squeezed her hand even harder. Sure, raise the bar even higher, Takeru. Thanks.

"Whassgoinon?!" That, that was Taichi-niisan's voice! She knew it, she knew it was, and he sounded so scared, so excited and so frightened, that sleeping was no longer an option. She knew she couldn't turn away from Taichi. Besides, the panic was calling for him, begging him to stop... something. To know... something. She grimaced, though she didn't realize that the action wasn't only in her mind. Her face contorted, and Taichi seemed all in a panic as he reached for her other hand. One hand held hers in a death grip. The other went to her cheek, her forehead, as though checking for fever. She struggled to open her eyes. Epic fail. "Is she okay? Is she hurt? She was talking, is she awake? Hikari?!"

"Nii...Onii..." She tried to talk again, but her throat was raw, and all that she really succeeded at was emitting a soft whimper of pain, and Taichi's grip on her hand became actually painful. Like, she wasn't sure if the whimper was because of her throat, or that.

"Shh. Don't talk. You're okay. You're..." His voice strayed off, and that nagging voice got even stronger, begging her to open her eyes and remember. But she was scared to. It was still a little warm, with her eyes closed. But something landed on her cheek that felt a lot like a tear. Takeru? Or Taichi?

"I'm going to get Jyou." Sora? That was Sora's voice, wasn't it? And the one who asked if she was awake, that was Yamato right? She tried to blink. It was hard, but she managed it. The second time it was a little easier, and by the fourth time she could keep her eyes open, although it hurt. And the warmth was gone, replaced by cold white lights and a soft beeping that she was startled to realize came from a machine next to her. Her wrist itched a little. She lowered her eyes to find an IV drip connected there.

"My head hurts," she told Taichi quietly. He cringed, like it hurt him that she hurt, and she wanted to give him a hug. But if her eyes were heavy, her body was like lead. It wouldn't move, and she gave up trying to sit up when she realized it absolutely exhausted her, and now her head was throbbing. Her eyes flickered back to the machine, thoroughly confused, and a little bit scared. She didn't spend that much time in the hospital, except for when she fell ill with pneumonia as a little girl. She didn't understand the beeping or the numbers or the green lines or the drip. And she didn't understand why she was here, she didn't understand... She didn't feel sick, she just had a splitting headache. She hadn't realized, yet, the bandages encasing her rib cage, hadn't taken into consideration the scrapes and cuts on the hand that Takeru was holding so carefully. Maybe she didn't notice them right away, because they weren't quite as apparent as they were that first night two weeks ago that was currently beyond her.

The nagging voice wanted to shake her. Remember! You have to!

"Hey kiddo." Just on the other side of Takeru, Yamato had taken a seat on the very edge of her bed, careful not to touch her. She tried to smile. It hurt, but she tried. It just made her jaw hurt. "You've had a good sleep, huh?" She blinked and frowned at him. Yamato was smiling, but it was a worried smile. That wasn't like him. Takeru had the same look, the same worried excitement. Happy she was awake, worried about her. But why?

"What do you mean?"

Yamato frowned. Takeru was looking at Taichi expectantly. But Taichi's voice still seemed to be failing him. His mouth was a tight line and his eyes were dark and bright at the same time, and it scared Hikari more than the machines, or Takeru's bright eyes. Takeru worried about her, she knew that. But for Taichi to be upset, and silent... And if she remembered, would she look like that too? She didn't want to. He'd worry more. She shrank back into her pillows. She didn't want anyone to answer her question, but she didn't have a choice. It was asked. Takeru opened his mouth to answer her, or perhaps even to say "Don't worry about it", although that wasn't Takeru's normal style. But she wished that was what he'd say. She didn't want to worry about it. But another voice spoke instead, and Takeru's mouth closed before he got a word out.

"So she's awake! How're you feeling, Hikari-chan?" It was Jyou. Good ol' Jyou. But he'd tell her exactly what she didn't want to hear. She wished, that small part of her that wasn't afraid to admit she was afraid, that she could go back to sleep. Just, slip right back into the comfortable unknowing silence, but she couldn't. She couldn't, and she knew she wouldn't even if she could. Taichi looked miserable. She didn't want him to look like that.

"She has a headache," Takeru piped up when Hikari nor Taichi said anything. She also suspected that he just didn't want to look at her anymore, and have his attention focused elsewhere. Or rather, he didn't want to be lost in his thoughts. Saying something, answering a question, it was better than sitting there in silence. Action may be avoiding a thought, but sometimes, maybe, it made the thought unimportant in the long run. She wished she knew what Takeru was thinking. Would his thought be unimportant, answering Jyou's question? Judging from the look on his face, it wasn't likely. Hikari caught his eye, and he smiled at her.

"Kind of expected that, to be honest. Someone's moving; I need to be able to get within a foot of the bed, if you don't mind." He sounded rather lighthearted, but there was still the old Jyou in there. He was in 'doctor mode', 'responsible Jyou' mode, and he didn't take well to obstructions that hindered him from doing what he felt he had to do. But the others knew that as well, if not better than Hikari, for they had known Jyou longer than she had. Takeru released her hand and backed away from the bed when Taichi showed no signs of moving. Yamato followed his lead, going to stand by Sora near the doorway, beyond where Hikari could see them. She didn't like that; she didn't want to lose sight of Takeru. He made her feel less afraid.

She kept her eyes on Jyou, however frightening his news might be, while he checked her eyes and mentioned something for her throat when he inspected it and saw it was raw. She wanted to ask why it felt like she was lined with sandpaper, but she didn't. Jyou didn't have the same anxious, uncertain look as the others. He was focusing on getting better, asking her if her head felt a little better, and could she move her hand? A finger? Don't worry, you've been out a solid two weeks. Your body needs time to regain its motor skills.

"Wait, two weeks," she asked, alarmed. She tried to swivel her head towards Taichi, eyes wide, but the mere attempt at the action sent a sharp, searing pain shooting along the right side of her head. She yelped and squeezed her eyes shut before she could catch herself. When she opened them again, Jyou had placed a tentative hand on her shoulder.

"Steady there; you've got quite a bit of healing to do." Now he looked worried, frowning at her. "Anything else hurt?"

She had noticed now the ribs and the faint cuts on her hands. Her eyes had hesitantly followed Jyou has he turned his attention to each area of concern with a doctor's precision. That memory was closer to the surface, poking and prodding at the barrier between her subconscious and conscious mind, and she was terrified. She didn't want it to break that barrier. She didn't know why though. She couldn't figure out what she was suppressing, which might be the entire point. It still frightened her in a way that she didn't know how to vocalize.

"I'm going to have the nurse give you more pain killers in a little bit; it'll make you a little more comfortable while you're still healing up." He glanced at the beeper at his waist and sighed. "I'd like to stick around for a bit, but I'm needed. I'll check in on you in a bit, and you can shout for a nurse if you need to get me, alright?" He didn't wait for Hikari to nod; she thought he didn't expect it, which she was grateful for. The others seemed to have much higher expectations, but trying to figure out what those were was tiring. And painful. Taichi still hadn't let go of his hand, and Jyou hadn't made him. She assumed that meant it was in good enough condition not for him to care.

When he was gone, Takeru reclaimed his place at Hikari's bedside. No one else had moved towards it, as though he had staked a claim on it while she had been asleep. He probably had, as passively territorial as Daisuke tried to be when he was worried about her. She smiled, mentally of course. It kind of hurt to move her jaw too much, like she had been punched. She didn't try to pull her hand away when he took it in his again. She felt safe again, a little calmer, like he was channeling positive thoughts through the simple touch.

Taichi, on the other hand, was making her feel close to panic. She looked at his face, and her heart fluttered and her mind raced and she felt herself having difficulty breathing and she forced herself to concentrate on slow, as-deep-as-she-could-manage breaths before he could notice that the memory she had been shoving back for two weeks was slowly beginning to trickle through cracks in her line of defense.

"Mom." She said suddenly. "And Dad. Nii-san, what--" She was struggling to sit more upright. Jyou had adjusted her pillows to get a little lift, but she couldn't reach the bed remote to make it sit up for her. Nobody made a move to help her, too busy staring at her with eyes that looked, if she wasn't mistaken, frightened. And then they slowly turned to Taichi. She paused in her struggles to sit up, no longer too lost in the battle with her mind to miss these subtle hints. They were worried, and afraid.... but it wasn't quite as much for her as it was for Taichi. She was physically hurt. She'd get better, given enough meds and bed rest. But what was wrong with her Nii-san?

"Takeru, you should call Daisuke and the others," Yamato suggested in a low voice. It was subtle, but Hikari caught the dual meaning. They were clearing the room. Her throat felt closed up, no longer raw but numb and suffocating. Something was wrong, something was very, very wrong and she was beginning to fear what she had unleashed by her seemingly innocent question. She had thought that maybe they were behind that curtained bed over there, or maybe in another room. Maybe they had gone home, cured and needing to return to their daily lives. Jyou said it had been two weeks, right? In two weeks, they'd get better, need to get back to work. Mom would come as soon as Taichi called... She must have been really mad at Dad though; they had been fighting a lot, shouting so loudly that Hikari could hear them over the music from her MP3 player. Would they have begun the separating process in two weeks? Were they going to separate? She hoped not; they fought, but everyone fought. They could fix it, like any parents could. They were adults. But a car accident, you know, did complicate the situation....

"Since you're awake... and look alright, I've got to get home. It's getting a bit late, and I promised Mom I'd be home at a decent hour," Sora said quietly, shrugging apologetically at Hikari. But she, too, disguised the hidden meaning in her words. This was a conversation to be between Hikari and Taichi, and only Hikari and Taichi. Hikari gulped. She wasn't sure she liked what that insinuated, but she said nothing. She didn't entirely trust herself to, but instead used the excuse of a raw throat to keep from responding. "Yamato..." Sora hesitated. "Could you bring me home, do you think?"

"Yeah," he replied automatically. He sounded stiff, and glanced at Taichi for signs of disapproval. Maybe he saw none, lost in the folds of worry and anxiety and distress that were already apparent. Whatever the case, Yamato glanced towards Takeru. "Am I taking you home, kiddo?"

Takeru narrowed his eyes at the word 'kiddo', but otherwise made no note of it. "No. Mom said she'll get me later." He sounded cheerful, but Hikari heard the steel in her best friend's voice. He'd allow himself to be ushered away from her bedside for a phone call that might not answer almost any of Daisuke's flood of questions that Hikari could imagine him throwing at Takeru just to throw him off his game. But he wouldn't be taken away; he was staying here, in the building, until Hikari or Taichi dismissed him. Hikari didn't care what Taichi wanted; she wanted Takeru to stay, right here. But he left the room with the others, after a reassuring smile and a quick wave. The smile didn't quite reach his eyes.

Hikari and Taichi sat in silence for a long time after the hospital door snapped shut with a metallic click that echoed in the silent room. Hikari didn't look at Taichi. She looked at the curtain across the room, the door, the tiles, the machine, her hand, the IV drip, anything within her peripheral vision that she could look at instead of her brother's face. She couldn't resist one peek though. He looked like he was fighting his own battle in his mind, one that she both wanted to help with and selfishly wished would never end, because if it never ended then she would never have to hear what was making her grow more terrified by the moment. She never wanted the waiting to end; she was afraid of what would end it.

But she couldn't take it, the look on his face. Whatever selfish desires lie within her, they weren't enough to allow her to permit her brother to look so... tortured, pained, miserable. She couldn't take it. She'd drive herself insane if she looked at him any longer. She took a deep breath, opened her mouth, and then closed it again. It took her three more tries to get anything out, and at first she thought she had spoken too quietly for him to hear her.

"Taichi," she said again, more loudly this time. At least, she hoped it was more loudly. Her throat was killing her, making it impossible to gouge the strength of her words. But he looked up sharply, as though startled back to the reality of the cold, white hospital room by his own name. She never called him by name. She startled herself by it too, but she needed to get his attention. His eyes looked oddly bright; it wasn't right, not on Taichi.

"...Where's Mom and Dad?"