Counterfeit.

Counterfeit. Part 2.

He wanted answers. He fell silent, composed himself and asked with utmost courtesy, but in a way so confused only pity could be felt for this man.

"All those things you said..?
You just said..?"

The two workers were still trying to work out how they'd been so careless as to let not only the safety of every person in the vicinity be compromised, but they'd also revealed to this man that he did not perceive reality the way it really was.
They'd burned down everything he thought to be real in a matter of seconds.

They'd come too far to lie and back down. They were being confronted with the consequences of their mistake and action was to be taken.

One started to shuffle for the tranquilizer kit nearby, but the other, more sympathetic one, stopped him.
"No. He deserves to know.
We can't just.assume... he's not strong enough to face reality....
If we don't even try and set him straight, how is he any better than our prisoner?"

The first physician felt the gravity of the situation shifting under his heart.
"That's not up to us.
It's not our place to.." 

The man, more visibly afraid with each passing moment spoke out, clearly frustrated.

"Perhaps, it'd be best if you two stopped talking like I wasn't here.
Now please, I.....I want to know the truth.
That accident...Where is she?..
Where is my wife?"

More questions came, but no answers followed. Silence frequently visited them, always seemingly right after the man opened his unfortunate mouth.

Until.

"A car swerved out of control and slammed into yours. Paramedics and doctors say a coma was the best case scenario for you."

"My Wife"

Abruptly it came. A question. A demand. A request. A plea. A cry. His wife became all these things,
All except alive.

The next few moments would be incredibly difficult for the two caretakers. But this couldn't possibly be a concern for them, they were aware that they would be spending roughly a couple of moments telling him the truth.
But this man.
This man would now spend the rest of life convincing himself of all the things his mind and heart were too fragile to comprehend in the first place. 
The man was a kind, dear soul. He could clearly see on their faces that they were completely out of their element.
They did not expect to be questioned upon what was real and what was not. He understood however, that their two realities were very different.

Listening to his better judgement, as opposed to lashing out, he decided, that as much as he was in need of truth, he decided to ease them into the answers he needed. To show them he was calm and composed enough to handle what would come forth. He built them up to the final answer he desired.

"How did I end up here after the accident? 
It's not........just a hospital."

Stating the obvious was literally painful. He took sharp breaths as he said things that would reveal and confirm bits of reality.

"It's got pulse monitors and all standard hospital equipment, but my physical health....isn't your main concern...is it?"

They were in awe of him. So calmly was he piecing together it all. But he had said more than he needed to.

He deserved to be told the truth, not to figure it out this cruel reality on his own. The emotionally hardened of the two finally spoke out.

"Once you woke up from your coma, the hospital turfed you here because they claimed we really needed to check out your case. 
Sir, this is a mental institute."