Hospital Room – 14:30
The sterile stillness of the hospital room was broken only by the soft hum of machines and the occasional chirp of the heart monitor. Sunlight poured through the blinds, casting faint stripes across the white sheets of the bed where Alex now sat upright. His posture was steadier, his expression thoughtful.
Mark and Michael sat close on either side of the bed, their eyes occasionally flicking toward Alex, who glanced at them with a calm, almost curious gaze. The tension in the room was subtle but undeniable.
David had stepped out just minutes ago, citing the need to give the boys time to catch up. In truth, all three of them knew he needed a moment to process everything that had just happened.
Neither Mark nor Michael had yet found the words to speak. When Alex had emerged from the bathroom—safe and steady on his feet—they'd felt a wave of relief. That relief was soon replaced by confusion… and awe.
They had both expected the worst when David, with his naturally intense and aloof demeanor, approached Alex. David's stern features often made even adults hesitate, so the boys feared that Alex—fresh from a six-month coma and known for his previous developmental delays—might become overwhelmed or even frightened.
But instead, Alex had calmly taken David's hand, thanked him with clarity and grace, and allowed himself to be led back to the bed without resistance. No stammering. No hesitation. Just… quiet composure, unlike anything they'd associated with their childhood friend.
Only after the moment passed did it hit them—Alex had spoken. Clearly. Fluently. His words had been succinct but natural, his voice steady and self-assured.
The Alex they had known struggled with full sentences, often pausing mid-thought or searching for simple words. He had always been kind, but withdrawn, trapped behind barriers that kept his thoughts locked away. Yet now, this new Alex had walked across the room, used the bathroom unassisted in an unfamiliar setting, and spoken as if he'd always been this way.
Even though they had heard something had changed—dramatically changed—they hadn't believed it. Not truly. His parents had told them over the phone, their voices a mix of hope and disbelief. David had warned them too, though even he seemed skeptical despite his words. The man had barely concealed his own shock when he witnessed it firsthand.
Now, here they were—sitting beside their friend, unsure what to say.
Finally, Michael broke the silence.
"So…" he said slowly, his voice soft and cautious, "how are you feeling?"
It wasn't the most profound question, but it felt safe—familiar.
Alex looked at him, the golden hue of his hazel eyes catching the light, and smiled gently. "I'm… feeling much better," he replied. "Thanks for asking. And how about the both of you?"
His voice was even, polite. He took a breath, as if assessing his own body. He felt stiff, and there was still a slight headache—but it was bearable.
Mark blinked, his lips slightly parted. He exchanged a quick glance with Michael, who gave a subtle shrug in return, silently mouthing what the hell?
"Uh… we're good," Mark replied, trying to sound casual but failing to hide the bewilderment in his tone. "I mean—we're fine. Just… yeah, fine."
Alex chuckled lightly. It was a soft sound, but it came naturally—no hesitation, no strain.
"It's alright," Alex said, looking between them. "I know this must be a lot to take in. Trust me, I'm still trying to make sense of it myself."
His honesty disarmed them both. For the first time since entering the room, the tension began to ease.
Michael leaned forward a little, still watching Alex closely. "So… you really don't remember everything? Like, before you woke up?"
Alex's smile faded slightly, replaced by a more introspective look. "Some things are clearer than others," he admitted. "There are gaps… but it's like a fog clouding my thoughts. So, I don't remember certain things clearly."
He looked down at his hands, flexing his fingers as if testing their familiarity. "It's strange. I feel like I've lived two different lives. One where I was always a step behind… and now, like I've finally started to catch up."
The room fell silent again, but this time it was filled with wonder rather than uncertainty.
Mark leaned back in his chair, letting out a long breath. "Man… this is gonna take some getting used to."
Alex nodded. "I guess so—though I'm not entirely sure what you all mean by that. Was I… or rather, was I a strange person before?"
Alex couldn't help but ask. From what he'd surmised so far, he had likely been mentally challenged. In what way exactly, he wasn't sure. But he had a guess, based on the few memories he'd recovered.
Hearing Alex's question, Michael and Mark looked at each other with hesitant expressions—as if silently deciding whether they should tell him the truth.
Just outside the door, David stood quietly, his hand still on the doorknob, having returned only moments earlier after getting off the phone with Oliver, who was on his way back to the hospital from work.
He had overheard the exchange, and—for once—allowed himself a faint smile before finally pushing open the door.
Inside a cozy diner, Martha sat in a booth with her four children, a half-eaten plate in front of her. While—Ashley, Jennifer and Duke—chattered quietly as they shared a late lunch. Martha, however, barely touched her food. Her eyes remained fixed on the window, her mind drifting far from the present.
"Mom… is everything alright?" Duke finally asked, his voice gentle as he set down his utensils and looked at her intently.
His question drew the attention of his older sisters. Both Ashley and Jennifer turned toward Martha, their expressions shifting from casual to concerned.
Snapped out of her daze by Duke's words and the weight of her children's collective gaze, Martha let out a slow breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.
"It's nothing to worry about," she said quietly, offering a faint smile. "I'm… just thinking."
Her answer was vague, and though Duke considered pressing further, but decided it might be better to speak to their father instead. Ashley and Jennifer remained silent, but their thoughts mirrored his. Whatever was troubling their mother, it was clear she wasn't ready to talk about it yet.
About twenty minutes later, with their meal finished, the family returned to the hospital. As they approached Alex's room, they could hear cheerful voices coming from inside—something that surprised all four of them.
Martha slowly pushed open the door, peeking inside.
To her surprise, she found David sitting beside Alex's bed. With him were twelve-year-olds Mark and Michael, who were animatedly chatting with Alex, now sitting upright in bed and listening intently. The boys were explaining recent events, helping fill in the gaps in Alex's memory.
The more Alex learned—about himself, his family, and his friends—the more his mind, once swirling with chaotic thoughts, began to settle. Mark and Michael's presence grounded him, helping him piece together who he was.
So focused was he on their conversation that Alex didn't notice the door opening—or his mother and older siblings stepping into the room. David, however, did. He gave Martha a small nod, understanding that in the rush of everything, she may have forgotten he'd mentioned bringing Mark and Michael by.
It was understandable. After all, the boy lying in that bed didn't resemble the Alex they all remembered. Just a six month ago, he had struggled to form full sentences without stuttering or fidgeting. Now, it was as if someone had flicked a switch. This Alex spoke clearly, confidently—a remarkable transformation in such a short span.
"Hey, you're back from lunch," David said warmly, breaking the silence.
His voice caught Alex's attention, as well as Mark and Michael's. They turned to greet the newcomers.
"Sorry," David added with a small smile as he stood and hugged Martha. "I told Oliver I'd bring the boys by today."
"How are you holding up?" he asked in a whisper as they embraced.
"I'm fine," Martha replied quietly. "Thanks for bringing them."
The kids quickly brightened up the room. Duke, Ashley, and Jennifer exchanged cheerful greetings with Michael and Mark. Alex face lit up when he saw his siblings—especially Ashley, who stepped forward to ruffle his hair affectionately.
He hadn't expected them to still be here. He thought only his mom would be around when he woke up. The sight of his siblings made something warm stir in his chest. Especially, as his memories became more clear.
But then his eyes fell on Jennifer.
She stood a bit farther back than the others, her arms crossed tightly, her expression uncertain. Even earlier, she had kept her distance. Now, she refused to meet Alex's gaze.
He noticed her avoidance, her guilty glances, and it confused him. He thought of asking her what was wrong—but decided against it. Not here. Not now.
Jennifer, for her part, couldn't bring herself to get any closer. The weight of her past mistakes—mistakes that had nearly gotten Alex killed—still haunted her. And though she was relieved to see him smiling and speaking like any normal boy, guilt made it hard for her to face him. The moment their eyes met, she quickly looked away.
David noticed. He sighed, shaking his head. Alex's confusion was evident, and what troubled David more was Martha's apparent indifference toward the tension between Jennifer and her younger brother. Still, he said nothing. Maybe time would heal these wounds.
Martha took a seat next to Alex's bed, brushing a hand gently along his cheek. "How are you feeling now? Does your head still hurt?"
"I'm okay. It doesn't hurt as much anymore," Alex reassured her, his hazel eyes meeting hers with warmth. "You don't need to worry so much. Michael and Mark have been helping me remember things."
Martha glanced toward the two boys. Both shifted nervously under her gaze.
"Oh, really? I hope they haven't been filling your head with nonsense," she said, her tone teasing but laced with caution. She cared for the boys like her own,
and appreciated how they had always treated Alex kindly, even before the incident—she knew they had a mischievous streak, especially when Duke wasn't around to rein them in.
Michael and Mark instantly panicked.
"We didn't!" they blurted in unison.
"Yeah, tell her, Dad! You were here the whole time!" Michael quickly turned to David for backup.
David sighed as dark lines formed across his forehead. How was it that his own son was more afraid of disappointing Martha than him?
Ashley chuckled at the scene, while Duke shook his head in amusement. Even Alex cracked a smile, quietly enjoying the familiar chaos of his family. Then, a sudden thought crossed his mind:
"Is my mom really that scary?
Two Days Later
Alex, now discharged, walked out of the hospital with both of his parents. The cold Brooklyn air bit at his skin, but it felt invigorating. Alive.
He looked around at the street—the noise, the cars, the people moving briskly along the sidewalks.
Everything felt like stepping into a time capsule.
Vintage cars rumbled by, people strolled in modest clothing, chatting in groups or moving with purpose. It was like watching a movie scene play out in real life.
"Alex," Oliver said with a grin, patting his shoulder, "ready to finally go home?"
Alex nodded slowly, taking it all in.
"Yeah... I'm ready."