A middle aged couple stood next to a hospital bed. Tucked under the covers and hooked up to feeding tubes lay a young figure wrapped in bandages. His whole head was wrapped in white cloth that was stained red from blood. Around him, two Chansey tended to his injuries, changing the bandages and cleaning and dressing his wounds. A young doctor entered the room and the couple rushed over to him.
"Is our son okay? Will he recover? When will he wake up? Does he have amnesia?" they asked a torrent of questions which the doctor silenced by holding up a hand.
"Mr. and Mrs. Crenshaw, I understand your worry but I'm afraid I have some bad news," he began, rushing his words as if he was trying to spare the concerned parents some pain, "Sam appears to have been beaten really badly. He has a few cracked ribs and has sustained a serious concussion. His body will recover fully but at this time, I cannot tell how the brain will heal."
The woman burst out into tears and buried her face into her husband's chest. Sam's father managed to keep his resolve but his eyes still filled with tears.
"What are you saying?" he asked simply, his voice hoarse. The doctor sighed.
"I'm saying that Sam has received major brain damage," he said in a low voice, causing the woman to cry even harder, "If he wakes up, it would be nothing short of a miracle. Please, don't set your hopes for a full recovery. He may very well stay in a coma for the rest of his life."
The doctor then left the room, leaving Sam's parents alone with their comatose son. His father let out a sob but tried to stay strong for his wife. The couple sank into a chair and watched the Chansey work on their son. As he sat there, all he could do was hope that his son pulled through.
Sunlight seeped through his eyelids, searing his pupils. A massive headache pulsed in the back of his head and he released a low groan. Summoning his minimal strength, he managed to open his eyes only to squeeze them shut again. There was too much light, which made the pain worse. After waiting for a long couple of minutes for the agony to subside, he opened his eyes just a crack to get used to the glare.
Sam took in his surroundings slowly. He was laying in a white bed in a very clean room, so he crossed off his room from the list of possible places. After more details came into focus, he realized he was in a hospital. It wasn't from the room that he realized this fact; rather it was the Chansey standing by the door. He stared dumbly at it for a while until it turned and walked over to him. Its face turned to shock when it saw that he was awake but quickly melted into joy.
"He's awake!" it squealed in delight. Its voice was high pitch and it kept repeating it and ran out of the room. Sam lay there in confusion, unable to register what just happened. He could have sworn that the Pokémon had talked and he understood exactly what it had said. He thought he was just hallucinating until the Chansey returned, bringing its friend along with it.
"See, he's awake," she said proudly, pointing at Sam. The other shook her head in disbelief.
"Unbelievable," the second one muttered, "The doctor said he had severe brain damage and he's recovered in just a week."
"The doctor didn't say that he couldn't recover," the fist pointed out, "he just said it would take a miracle for that to happen."
"Well he got his miracle."
"Excuse me," Sam croaked out. They had said something that disturbed him, and it wasn't the fact that he could understand them, "but I've been out for a week?"
The two Chansey jumped back in surprise. The first one exclaimed, "What did he say?"
"I think he asked us how long he's been out for," the other replied in a hushed voice.
"I heard what he asked. How can he understand us though?"
"Look, this is all very confusing for me too, but can you please answer my question?" Sam pleaded. He had no idea what was going on and he just wanted one thing to make sense. The second one, seeming to be the calmer one, decided to answer.
"You've been in a coma for a week," she started to say in a slow voice, "when I first saw you, you were not looking too pretty. Your face was cut up bad, skull was fractured, ribs cracked and don't forget the horrible concussion."
"The doctor said you had a better chance of ending up a vegetable for the rest of your life than ever healing," the second chipped in, "we found you right outside the hospital. Someone must have dumped you there because we didn't see anyone."
Sam rolled onto his back again. Other pains in his body seemed to be appearing, as if they were hiding from him and choosing the best time to become the most annoying. He groaned slightly and noticed something shift out of the corner of his eye. He turned and focussed on the source. A man slept on the couch, his mouth hanging open slightly. His untidy brown hair was speckled with spots of gray. It took Sam an embarrassing amount of time to recognize him.
"Dad?" He said his voice barely a whisper. Somehow, this managed to wake his father because he jolted awake and stared at Sam. His face broke into a grin.
"Sam, you're awake!" he cried out and went to hug his son. He paused halfway through the gesture and gave an embarrassed chuckle, "I would hug you but you seem to be more bandaged than a mummy."
Sam examined his limbs and saw that his dad was right. His arms were covered in cloth and he could only assume that the rest of his body looked similar. He raised an arm to his feel his head but quickly pulled away from the sharp pain.
"Where's mom? Why isn't she here?" Sam asked as he looked around the room. The Chansey had left, leaving him alone with his father.
"She's at home resting," his father said, "she has barely slept since you were injured. She stayed by your side the whole time, barely eating. Eventually, I told her to go home and get some rest. Your mom is going to flip when I tell her you woke up and she wasn't there to see it. Speaking of which, I got to go make a call."
Sam watched his father get up and leave the room. Once he was gone, he rubbed his sore head, trying to numb the pain that had risen during the conversation. The pain faded a bit and Sam slumped back against the pillows.
He could barely remember the fight that he was in. Sure, it was bad that he couldn't remember the last thing that he was awake for in over a week but Sam didn't want to hold onto that memory. Just thinking about it sent shivers up his spine. A wave of exhaustion suddenly washed over him and being too weak to fight it, Sam fell back into an uneasy sleep.
The next week passed in a blur for Sam. When he woke again, his mom wrapped him in a bear hug despite his protests. Catching up on what he had missed for his brief time in a coma, he soon fell asleep again. Whenever he woke, his parents were at his bedside so Sam never was never alone. A couple times, his school buddies came in to talk with him and keep him company.
But despite always having someone around, the two people he really wanted to talk to never came back. They weren't even human beings. Since his first conversation with the Chansey, he had been yearning to speak with them again. However, they always avoided him, making him think that he had been hallucinating all along.
After two weeks of being hospitalized, the bandages came off and Sam finally got to walk around. His first time was a success and he managed to walk around the room before being forced back into bed. When the doctor brought him a mirror so he could see his new face, a stranger looked back at him.
With all the blows to his head, his face had become heavily scarred. The doctors had to shave his shaggy hair to repair the damage done to his skull. Now, Sam could see every scar from the beating, and while he did take pride in looking kind of awesome, he was disappointed that he would never look the same again.
Just behind his right ear, multiple scars overlapped each other to form a pattern that was similar to a spider web, only with a lot less links. Another ran in a crooked line from his right eyebrow to just under his left eye. The third scar on his face ran along the bottom left of his jaw and extended up to his left ear. He noticed two smaller scars that he nearly overlooked. One was crescent shaped that started above his left eye and curved around his temple to end in his hairline. The other was much smaller and just cut downwards from the right side of his mouth and ended just below the dip of his jaw. While the last two scars were not as prominent as the one on the side of head, Sam was disturbed by exactly how much his face had changed.
On the last day he was at the hospital, Professor Birch came to visit Sam. At first he was angry at the professor but he suppressed his feelings. There was no way that he could have known that Sam was going to be hurt for the delivery.
"I need to talk to you about the job," the professor said as he sat on the edge of the bed, "the position is open if you still want to take it."
Sam was perplexed for a moment until he realized what the professor was saying, "You still want me to take the job?" he asked. When the professor nodded, Sam continued, "Really? After all that has happened, you still trust me with your delivery? Keep in mind, the people who ganged up on me were intent on getting your package."
"That's the thing," the professor started to explain, "After what happened to you, all the volunteers suddenly backed down from the offer. I don't blame them. I honestly wouldn't blame you if you choose not to take this job. If you are still interested, come by my lab when you get out and I promise to explain everything to you. I'll even tell you what the package is. You of all people deserve to know."
He got up to leave before turning back to say one more thing, "If you do choose to come, please take the normal route. The forest path is quicker but I feel it may be too risky now." He then exited the room, leaving Sam with a difficult choice.