Safe and Sound (An APH PruCan Story)

Empty Promises

CHAPTER FOUR: Empty Promises

Matthew couldn't decide if he was awake or dreaming.

He was in and out of consciousness all day, (or was it two days?) and what he saw when his eyes were open felt random and senseless, as though he was seeing short clips from several different movies.

First came the bright lights, the shouting voices, the sensation of fast movement. Hands reached out and touched his face, hands that were abnormally white, and when they made contact, it felt like they were underwater. Masked faces leaned in. The lights got brighter. Frightened, he had closed his eyes again.

Next came the crying. This time, Matthew had kept his eyes closed, mostly because he did not have the energy to open them. It was one voice, only one person was crying. Matthew felt like he should recognize who this person was, but he had drifted back off into the darkness of unconsciousness before he could figure it out.

Last came the promise. That was the one part of all the tomfoolery that Matthew remembered perfectly clearly. A whisper in the voice he could never mistake:

"I'll be back tomorrow. Promise."

And then silence and black oblivion once more.

Matthew wasn't sure how long he had been sleeping before he awoke again, this time, much more alert. He blinked, trying to clear the fuzziness from his brain.

"Dad... Dad! He's awake!"

There was the sound of footsteps.

"Matthew? Open your eyes, there's a good lad."

Matthew's vision soon cleared enough to reveal Alfred sitting on the edge of his bed and Arthur standing behind him, both watching him with worry clear on their faces.

"A-Al...?" Matthew whispered, surprised at how hard it was to speak. "Where..."

"Shh, Mattie, don't talk," Alfred urged. "You're in the hospital."

He gave Alfred a questioning look. Al must have gotten the message, because he glanced at Arthur as though asking permission.

Arthur shook his head at the blue-eyed teen. He didn't want to scare Matthew after he'd just woken up. Before Alfred had the chance to say anything else, Arthur stepped closer to the bed.

"How do you feel, Matthew? Does your chest hurt at all?"

Matthew gave a slight nod, feeling the ache in each breath. The feeling wasn't foreign, though he struggled to remember when he's felt it at this particular extreme before.

"What happened...?" Matt managed in a breathy whisper.

"You don't remember?"

A silent shake of the head.

Arthur was silent for a few heartbeats before murmuring, "You collapsed at school. One of the teachers told us you stopped breathing."

Matthew's eyes widened as the memory came rushing back to him. Gym class. Dodgeball. The pain. The feeling that no air was coming in. A voice.

Then darkness.

At the thought of it, he must have started to hyperventilate. Arthur put a hand on his shoulder. "Shhh, Matthew, you're okay now... shhh..."

Matthew whimpered softly as he tried to calm his breathing. He closed his eyes and laid his head back down, feeling his father's hand gently squeeze his shoulder.

"Where... where's Papa...?" he managed softly.

A pause.

"He... he had to step out for a moment," Arthur said, speaking as though he was thinking carefully about what he said.