73 Sleeping Beauties

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The conditions had changed. Only one person could see Penelope at a time unless they were family.

When Demetri had heard that she'd slipped into a coma, he knew he had to go see her. His whole body knew that he needed to be there for her and Frankie, so he made plans with his mom to go see her. However, it was a lot harder to do than he thought it would be.

He stood in the doorway for a long time, just looking at her. He had never known anyone who'd gone into or been in a coma, so it was a strange situation for him. The bandage wrapped around her head was even harder to grapple with.

Hospitals weren't a big deal to him. He had never had an issue going to the doctor, so hospitals weren't all that scary. Though, the near silence of the room was a stark difference to the chatter in the hall. It was a threshold he wasn't sure he could cross.

Then, all of a sudden, her presence on the bed was like a black hole sucking him into nothingness.

He sat by her bed, very quiet and cautious with every move he made, scared he might mess something up somehow. The chair was uncomfortable, though he found it hard to believe he could ever find comfort there at all. It's cracked leather bent to his will, conforming resentfully as he weighed the cushion down, biting at the fabric of his jeans. The arm rests were no better, pulled apart until the thin layer of cushioning was exposed to be torn apart as well, most likely by a previously impatient visitor who had nothing else better to do in order to occupy their troubled mind.

Demetri was alone with Penelope. He didn't know how much he liked that.

When he'd arrived, Mr. Harris had greeted him and explained that Frankie was in the cafeteria, as he had convinced her that some nutrition would be good, and that he was going to join her. He'd told him that he could go see Penelope while they were having a late breakfast, which gave Demetri the feeling of a heavy rock sitting in the pit of his stomach.

It sat there as he stared at Penelope's motionless, calm face. He couldn't think of words to say, unsure if she'd even hear him, but had many, many thoughts.

Upon seeing her, his first thought was to compare her to Sleeping Beauty. He highly doubted true love's kiss would awaken her from slumber. However, if it came to last resort, he would scour the Valley, maybe all of LA or California or the nation, to find her true love and have him bestow a kiss on her cheek to wake her. (He'd always found it strange that sleeping princesses were kissed on the lips to wake them; wasn't that a bit too far?)

However, there were simply things he couldn't do. He knew he couldn't fix anything that had already happened and he couldn't magically change the situation, though against the rules of the universe, he wished he could. Not for himself or his peace of mind, but for Frankie.

He'd texted her to ask how she was doing, getting a very Frankie answer back; How do you think I'm doing?

He couldn't blame her for that hostile coded text, sure that he would feel much the same if he were in her position. It didn't stop him from reaching out, assuring her that he was there, that he was always going to be there. She'd responded with a simple okay and they hadn't spoken to each other since.

A part of him wanted to ask if she was still mad at him, but his better judgment kept him from typing it out. It was a stupid question in comparison to ones like "when will Penelope wake up?" In any case, Demetri was sure he was the last thing on Frankie's mind at the moment, which was a sad thought, but he didn't blame her for that either.

He sighed as he sat back in the chair, still uncomfortable but accepting of it. As far as he was concerned, he didn't deserve enjoyable sitting conditions. Not while he was observing his comatose friend.

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