Rescue Me *Completed*

Chapter Fifty-Eight

The dreams never seemed to end. I was either reliving my nightmares, falling when I try to leave my bed, or watching Michael trying to talk to me. He wanted me to engage with him in the small mundane conversations, but what was the point if he was going to disappear again. He couldn't be the real Michael, I just wanted the real Michael.

Several Doctors could come and check in on me when the dreams were in the light. Asking me questions that I don't want to answer. One of them even got a bit agitated with my lack of answering that triggered me into a moment of panic.

In that moment, I did think the Specialist was going to hit me with the back of his hand.

When my body resorted to covering my face from the awaiting impact, Michael was quick enough to shoo him away, reassuring me that he wasn't going to lay a hand on me. That I was safe and I could calm down now.

After sending in a psychologist to talk to me, he came to his conclusion that I was living in a state of detachment.

"It's called derealization Mr. Chapman." The Korean Psychologist; Dr. Park said. "It seems like she's aware something is wrong but refuses to believe what she is seeing and hearing."

"So... to her, this is all unreal?" He asks.

"Exactly." Dr. Park says. "Eventually, she will be ready to talk; but given the recent events she has been though, I don't think it would be wise to push her into reliving those memories. I don't want to send her into an episode."

"Then, What can we do?" Michael asks.

We. I smiled to myself. He wants to help too.

"Talk to her about anything that isn't about the event. Read, sing, even just being around her will make her come around eventually. When she slightly improves, then we can try talking to her about what happened. For now, we must be gentle."

***

The dream-like movie continued on as I continued to lay in the cot. I was fed, sponge bathed, spoken to, but all the same; I was still not willing to think.

Until one night when the unexpected happened.

Michael was busying working on his computer, his fingers quickly clicking the keyboards to ease the anxious rumble in my mind when he asks, "I hope my typing isn't bothering you."

No. I look at the sheets of my bed.

"I think I know when you want to say yes and no sometimes, but I think it would be helpful if you gave me a sign. If you can."

I look back up at him, confused at what he meant.

He takes off his reading glasses, scratching his overgrown beard when he continued to talk.

"What I mean is, how about you wiggle your toes when you mean yes?"

Wiggle my toes? I look down at my cold feet. I... suppose I could do that.

And so I do.

Michael was astonished from the way his breath was taken a back.

"Yes, Baby that's it." He smiles with joy.

I couldn't help but smile at his reaction too.

"Let's figure out what no means now." He rolls his chair a little closer to me now. "Do you have an idea on what that could be?"

I don't.

My attention returns to my hands, noticing how long my nails have grown and how dry my hands have become.

I bring them close to my chest, stroking my fist to keep them warm when he says, "Is that your way of saying no?"

Yes. I wiggled my feet.

"Okay." He huffs another smile. "Okay, wow. This is really good Darlin', we're making progress! We... w- You're... "

He covers his mouth with his trembling hand, trying his best not to cry when I slowly reach out for him. My fingers grazed on his forearm, feeling the rough wool scratch at my fingers and bringing his glossy eyes back to me.

Don't cry. My eyes stung at the sight of his tears. Not for me, please.

"Darlin'." He grows closer, now touching my face as carefully as possible. "May I kiss you?"

But what if this is a dream? My tears fell onto his fingers. What if I wake up and you're gone again?

I wiggled my feet, taking the chance and hoping I won't wake up back in Blake's room.

He rises slightly to lean in closer, gently brushing his lips against mine when we came to a full press.

A familiar warmth made my heart soar to the sun, taking in every single ray of sunshine as it thawed my entire body. He pulled his lips back, waiting for a reaction when my lips leaned in for him.

They parted for more warmth; he also following my movements and yearning for more kisses.

"I missed you Sweetheart." He quietly sobs. "Please don't leave me again."

I braced myself and slowly opened my eyes to find myself looking at him still.

So this wasn't a dream then? I gasped. He's really here? Was this not a dream anymore?

"Michael...?" My voice barely comes out.

"Sweetheart." His smiles grows bigger. "Sweetheart, you're talking!"

Just as I felt to talk some more, a familiar sound of heels stopped me from talking.

Sure, the sound of heels shouldn't cause a "familiar" sound, but to me, it instantly straighten my back from the anxiety building up inside.

"Winter, what is it? What's wrong?"

To my shock, her familiar figure was now standing by the door.

A short woman in the tallest heels wearing her signature flared out pants, luxurious cream colored puff coat and a angry expression his her flushed ivory face.

"Oh my god, Winter Adams! What did you get yourself into now?!"