Fantasia

LXXIII

"Good morning, Mr. Yang, and... oh!"
The way too upbeat voice of a female nurse around her sixties pulled Eddy out of his dream and thus, out of Brett's comforting arms.
"Fuck!", Eddy mumbled in a very non-hospital-early-in-the-morning-way and rubbed his eyes in order to clear his vision.
"I'm so sorry, Mr. I forgot there was someone else in this room", the nurse hurried herself, scrambling over to the machines next to Brett's bed.
"Nah, it's fine. Sorry to have startled you", Eddy apologized, even though all he wanted inside was to tell her to get out and let him sleep so he could go back to playing the violin with Brett.
"I can come back later..."
"No, no. It's fine. I'm gonna use the bathroom quickly."

During the night, there must have been nurses coming in and out all the time to turn Brett around every two hours. It was a miracle that Eddy hadn't woken up with him sleeping next to Brett on a freaking chair. He did look tired though, when he watched himself in the mirror. Not haggard anymore, no. Also the weariness and the shadow upon his eyes had vanished. A kind of shine had taken its place, making him look younger and more alive really.
"Wow", he mouthed, touching his, he had no other word to describe them, rosy cheeks minutely. How a few nights of him doing what he loved with his best friend could change him was impressive.

"You know, we can set up another bed in this room, if you want", the upbeat nurse from before suggested with a warm smile when Eddy came back.
"Oh", he made, considering the offer. "Maybe. I'll get back to you if I need it. Is that okay? I might go back to the hotel tonight, actually." A shower did sound like a good idea right about now. And a change of fresh clothes.
"As you wish. Don't hesitate to tell us. We're happy to help."
"Thanks. Did anything change with Brett?", he asked curiously. Maybe, after tonight, there'd be more brain activity or something detectable?
But she shook her head. "I'm only a nurse, so I can't tell for sure, but all his vitals are normal and stable. Which is a good thing, by the way. A doctor will come by later this morning though and they'll be able to tell you more, for sure. I did hear that he smiled yesterday", she mentioned, her expression encouraging, "And with my thirty years of experience working in hospitals, I can say that this is a very, very good sign."
"Really?", Eddy couldn't help but breath while probably looking like an excited puppy being let outside for the first time.
"Really!", she stated, "I can tell he's special to you. So don't lose hope."
"I try."

The doctor came by after breakfast, along with Brett's parents, who greeted Eddy with firm handshakes and wide smiles, asking him how the night had been. He swallowed the urge to tell them about his dreams for now and listened to the doc saying something about Brett's brain activities having increased in the last twenty-four hours, giving Eddy hope that him being here really did make a difference. It was even possible to remove the tubes from Brett's nose which had helped him breathe. It made him look much less sick somehow and seeing Brett's parents beam like stage lights made Eddy's heart sing.
He played some more violin after the doctor left, getting more and more used to performing in front of an audience, however small it was. Now, that Brett's and his Adagio was finished, this was the one he played most for sure, and everytime he did, it touched his heart on a level he'd never deemed possible. At least, he managed to not straight our wail in front of Brett's mum and dad.

"You've finished the piece!", Mrs. Yang stated when Eddy put the instrument back in its case. He flinched a bit, hoping it wasn't too visible.
"Uh, yeah, it's done."
"It's so beautiful and sad at the same time. I somehow feel like Brett is speaking through this piece. Telling his story."
"Actually..." Would this be a good moment? He had given them a taste of the whole truth by telling them he'd seen Brett in his dreams. Telling them how he could talk to him, how he'd regained his memory and how they had started to heal together was an entirely different thing.

But the way how they looked at him encouragingly, how the question marks in their eyes held some kind of hope, did he really have any other choice?

Eddy took a deep breath.
"This IS Brett's and my piece", he began, hoping for follow-up questions so he didn't have to venture in unknown waters too much.
They didn't disappoint. "Brett's piece? I thought you'd just finished it?", Mrs. Yang asked with a slight frown.
"We did. Remember how I told you that I dreamt of him?"
He received careful nods and took another deep breath before delivering the blow.
"I've actually been dreaming of him every night for two weeks now. In those dreams, I can talk to Brett like I'm talking to you now."
"Eddy, what exactly are you telling us?", Eric asked, "Are you saying you and Brett composed this piece in you dreams? I mean, it's special, but not uncommon to get inspiration from dreams, is it?"
Yeah, he needed to be more clear, huh. He shook his head a bit and laid his eyes on his best friend.
"I'm not sure what all this means myself, but it seems like I meet Brett's soul or conscious in my dreams. His ACTUAL soul or something."
Brett's mum was quiet. Mr. Yang mouthed a "What?", his face white as a sheet.
"He's in some sort of building with vast hallways and lots of staircases. He didn't remember anything at first. He didn't know why he was there, for how long and he didn't remember anything other than his name and that he played the violin. Oh yeah, he was always carrying his violin. So when I saw him first, he didn't know who I was of course. However, when I came back the second time, he did."
"I still don't understand", Brett's dad meant, "How do you know it's his soul you're meeting there? It could all still be a normal, very realsitic set of dreams?"
"I thought that too at first. Of course I did. I mean, what I'm telling you is crazy! But I haven't been thinking much about Brett at all before I dreamt of him, which was odd. Why should I dream of a former friend from my highschool days I haven't seen in over a decade? And then, what really kind of proved to me that he wasn't only a product of my mind was, that Brett played pieces I didn't even know! Haven't even known they existed! He played them in my dreams and when I looked them up, the score showed exactly what he played."
Brett's parents had both stopped breathing and Eddy would start worrying, if everything he told them hadn't had the same effect on him few weeks back.
"The other piece I played", he picked up his violin again and played the first few notes of Brett's melody, "that is your son's piece. All of this started six months ago, actually. Probably around the time Brett fell into a coma. I had the same dream almost every night, where I would wander around near a hill. On top of that hill was a tall mirror and every time I tried to touch it, I woke up and had to vomit. Six months, almost every night. I went to a doctor around a month ago maybe, but they found nothing.
And then, I started to hear that melody in my dreams. I started to see a shadow in the mirror and when I tried to touch it, I woke up and for the first time since having this freaking dream, I didn't feel sick. I determined that the melody I heard came from a violin, so I started playing again and that's when I was finally able to step through the mirror."
"And on the other side...", Mrs. Yang stuttered.
"On the other side was Brett. I immediately knew who he was, but like I said, he didn't. He showed me around though and I told him about himself. He played pieces for me and I told him how we lost touch. He understood. He forgave me", Eddy croaked, voice getting thick when he thought back to how Brett had so wonderfully lifted Eddy from his sin.
"And then, when I found out about what happened to him, I told him that he was in a coma. We were both kind of glad that he wasn't... you know..."
Brett's parents nodded ever so slightly, the knuckles of their hands turning white for how tight they squeezed the other's palm.
"The next time I met him, everything had come back to him. What had happened, why he collapsed. He was furious, but he came around and we somehow figured out what we have to do in order to help him. And the piece Brett and I composed, we've finished it last night", Eddy concluded.

There was a deafening silence filling the powder-blue room. Only the beeps from the machines cut through the tension every second or so, giving Eddy something else to concentrate on other than the shocked faces of his best friend's folks. If their skin would be more white, they'd be transparent by now.

Would they drive him away? Forbid him from ever seeing Brett again?

Had Eddy just dug his own grave?