Dreamer ~ A Daniel Seavey Fanfiction

Chapter 22

HARPER'S POV

"Here you are," says the nurse, leading me through the hallways to a room marked 209.

"Thank you," I say. She smiles and walks away, leaving me to steady myself before rapping the door with my knuckles and hearing a soft voice reply to the sound: "Come in."

I rest my hand on the doorknob, hesitating for a tenth of a second before entering the room. Get a grip, Harper. This is my brother and sister after all, and I shouldn't be this nervous...right?

As I close the door softly behind me, the boy sitting in the chair by the window tears his gaze from the city lights outside and meets my eyes. Taking one look at me, he says dismissively, "I'm sorry miss, but I'm sure you have the wrong room."

I open my mouth to answer him, to yell at him, to beg him to remember me. But before I can, the girl in the hospital bed stirs, and the machines next to her come to my attention. I've been in enough hospitals to know that her vitals seem normal, but who knows based on the drug she overdosed on and how long it took paramedics and EMTs to get to her and help her.

"What's going on?" She asks sleepily. Then, noticing me, she says, "Who are you?"

"Carmen, thank God," the boy breathes, leaning toward her in the chair. Answering her question about me, he says, "This girl just has the wrong room number."

With that single sentence, that blow to my heart, I lose my nerve. They don't remember me, or they are choosing to pretend they don't know me - neither of which I can stand. I never should have let Daniel bring me here, I never should have gotten my hopes up that I could find them again. They're gone.

"I'm sorry, I...I was...I thought maybe you..." I back away from them, tripping over my apology and fumbling for the doorknob.

If you had seen the three of us growing up, we looked liked we could be triplets, despite the fact that I have freckles littering my cheeks, and the twins have only a few on their noses, and also the fact that I am several years younger than they are. Now, seeing as Dex's hair has been bleached, Hailey's dyed jet black, and mine being the only medium brown hair we were all born with, we couldn't look more different. The only thing now that ties the three of us together are our eyes - a perfect shade of gray-blue that neither of our parents share with us. My mother's eyes were so brown they looked black, and my father's eyes were always bloodshot, so it was impossible to tell what color they were. Apparently, my siblings and I share some rare genetic trait that only shows up in every sixth generation, and thank God for that, because it's the only discernible thing tying me to them now. Even they have to know that.

I find the doorknob and mumble, "I'm so sorry" one last time before preparing to bolt.

"Wait." The girl - Hailey, Carmen, whoever she is now - stops me in my tracks.

"Carmen..." the boy says, a warning in his tone. She rolls her eyes.

"Wesley..." she says mockingly, and it hurts to not hear 'Dexter' come out of her mouth like I had heard all throughout growing up. "It's fine. She's not going to kill me." Her eyes find mine, and there is humor dancing behind them, despite the fact that she is lying, recovering, in a hospital bed. "Right?"

Too nervous, I nod my head in response, which elicits a "See?" from her lips, directed at the boy, who rolls his eyes. When the girl turns back to me, she waves me closer.

I pad slowly toward her, my heartbeat racing faster with every step. Before long, I am standing mere feet from her and the boy, looking into eyes that mirror my own.

When the girl looks at me, I can see every memory of our childhood behind them. I can see that she not only knows and remembers who I am, but she remembers the life of hers that I am attached to. She sees her sister, and I see mine.

As she studies me, the boy does the same, and it's almost as if they are having an entire unheard conversation about me. "What do you think, Wes?" She asks finally, her eyes never leaving my face, her voice barely audible.

"Gotta be," he answers in the same tone, and I tear my gaze away from the girl to look at him. When I see that his eyes are brimmed with tears, I'm astounded.

"What's your name, sweetheart?" The girl asks, and my heart aches.

"Harper," I croak out, as if saying it aloud might set off alarms within the entire building. "Harper Moon."

At that, the girl breaks down into tears, and the boy covers his face with his hands as he says over and over, "She found us. She found us."

My tears fall along with theirs as they pull me into their arms, where I am home for the first time in a year.

~