Wake of the Dead | Three

Chapter Fifty-Nine | Killian

It was terrifying, being asleep for two weeks, then waking up and not remembering how to tie your shoes or use a spoon. It was even worse having to play it off and let a child tease you for it. "See? You just tie the loop like this!" Phoenix said, holding one of her shoes on her lap and demonstrating the bunny-ears. Earlier that morning he'd been unable to eat the breakfast Hasan provided for him, until the other man demonstrated how to use the dining utensil.

Killian knew that he knew how to do it. He knew, he remember being able to—it was like his own mind had boxed itself in a cage, gaslit him into believing he didn't. Like a wall he had to push through, or wading through a fast-running current, he'd forced his way through to re-learning two of the most basic things he'd ever done. Some words he wanted to speak were just at the tip of his tongue, held hostage and unable to make it past his lips. The most horrific thing though—had he lost any memories of Jasper?

Of course, if he had he wouldn't know. The only way to tell was for Jasper to actually recount the fondest of times they'd had with one another. He'll tell me, he'll tell me the truth, because he's never lied to me. I know that much. Maybe I can't think of the things that proved it. But I know it. Still, it was frustrating, knowing things about other people or events without the strings that connected all of the related events before it. It was a web with missing strands, a network without communications...all in his head, the place he always felt safest.

Whatever he'd experienced in his coma had kept him away from sleeping. It was difficult to let himself fall unconscious, from the fear of having night terrors to the paranoia that he may never wake up again. Did he even remember everything correctly? Had he invented things in his mind to convince himself of certain facts? Could he trust himself? He didn't even know. But if I can't trust myself, I can trust Jasper.

Killian was ripped away from his inner thoughts when Phoenix poked his nose, "You're doing that thing again. Looking confused and not talking."

"Am I?" He said, forcing a smile in an attempt to soothe the little girl's concerns. Judging from the look on her face, it hadn't worked. He was about to say something to try and convince her, but she ran off before he could even utter a single sound. A little while later, Hasan made his way into the room, shutting the door behind him. Killian swallowed, "I didn't scare her, did I?"

"No," Hasan chuckled, "she just told me you were acting weird, then went to go and play with Jess." Oh. That's alright at least. "Killian, how are you feeling?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

"There's no need to be hostile."

"How would I know that?" Killian challenged. He strained to sit up taller, definitely not fond of the way his arms shook with the effort. "I don't remember anything except that fucking hell house and being stuck in a cage! How am I supposed to know you aren't going to send me back? Or how am I even able to think Casimir and Darren actually saved me? What if they're the reason I got put there in the first place, hm?"

A bitter snarl curled at Killian's lips before he could stop it, the inner turmoil had to be hidden, kept safe away from the world. People couldn't know he was weak, he had to show them he was strong. He was smart enough not to be manipulated! He wouldn't let them get to him, not that easily. "It's normal, to feel these things." The doctor replied. He's trying to be...be...god damnit! That word, what's that thing...that thing where people are...

Killian closed his eyes tight, clenching his head and imagining a dictionary being slammed into his brain. Still, the word wouldn't come to him. "I'm a doctor, I'm just here to help."

"Why? Why would you want to help me, waste your own supplies and time?" Killian hissed. "The last two doctors to lay a hand on me—the first one, the guy—his name I..." he clenched his jaw, "it doesn't matter! He tried to kill my boyfriend, then the second guy—L-Lennox? He put a catch pole around my neck." The urge to reah for a crossbow was soon followed by fear, when he realized it was on the other side of the room. Shit. How am I going to get him to leave now?