You and Me, Always.

Days

It had been almost four weeks since the accident, and Aljaž had rarely left Janette's bedside. He had grown accustomed to the beeps of the heart monitor, the humming of the machine that was providing oxygen, even when the lights of the ward dimmed for the night hours. He had allocated a chair for himself, where he sat, gripping Janette's hand, hoping that one day she would squeeze it back. He told her about everyday tasks that she used to make fun, and how she used to make herself laugh as well as Aljaž. Now, seeing her there, unresponsive to his chatter, Aljaž could not handle it; it was slowly tearing him apart from the inside.
He had sat for so long that the noises of the machines were now engrained in his head, to the point where he knew which sound was coming next before the machine itself did.
She had good days, when it seemed as though she was about to wake up, eyelids flickering and all, and bad days, where she went so cold that they had to wrap extra blankets round her and warm up her room especially.
Each day, however, felt endless, and Aljaž was missing hearing Janette speak; hearing her little laugh, missing the Janette she used to be. It hurt him to see various nurses coming in and out, changing tubes here and there, brushing her hair, changing her gown. All he could do was sit, and wait.

On this day, it was all rather normal, nothing out of the ordinary or particularly good. The morning came and went, no change in her state. Aljaž was losing hope that it would ever change. Until, the machines all seemed to perk up. The heart rate monitor was emitting beeps more frequently, the oxygen machine had a more rhythmic sound to it, almost as though... as though someone was breathing into it. Aljaž stood up, calling out in the corridors for a doctor. Three nurses bustled in, followed by the doctor, who shut the door behind him.
"She's coming out of the coma!" One of the nurses exclaimed. Aljaž could not believe his ears. Janette was improving, it was soon going to be okay. The doctor examined the array of machines beside the bed that Janette was hooked up to, before lowering the rate of oxygen that the respirator was providing. "It seems," he paused, rubbing his forehead in shock, "that Janette is waking up." Aljaž breathed a sigh of relief, after weeks of tense waiting, a response at last. "However," the doctor began once again, "she may not be exactly how she was before." Aljaž's heart stopped, what did he mean, not exactly like before? "We have to remember that she did suffer quite a knock on the head, and our MRI results from before did show some quite significant bleeding in her brain." He stopped, before indicating to Aljaž to sit beside her and wait until she was fully conscious.
Aljaž shuffled back to his seat, waiting on the moment Janette would wake up again. He grasped her hand, which was now a lot warmer than it had ever been. But one thought still sped round his mind, what did the doctor mean, not exactly the same as before? No matter, he would still have his Janette back.

Ten minutes went by, with nothing. The same high heart rate and warm hands, and no change in her breathing either.

Twenty minutes. Aljaž and the doctor and nurses were all beginning to doubt that it was actually her waking up, but rather just a change in her condition.

Thirty minutes. The doctor was about to clear his throat and suggest that they all leave her in peace and grab some air for a while. Janette, however, seemed to have other ideas. Her eyes began to flicker, faster than they even had before, causing Aljaž to leap to the edge of his seat. The heart rate monitor stepped up one more level, beeping faster than it had ever done. The doctor, nurses and most importantly, Aljaž all waited to see what was next. Suddenly, her eyes flitted open. Then shut immediately again, due to the stark whiteness of the light. "Dim the lights!" Yelled Aljaž, and a nurse did so. Janette opened her eyes once more, keeping them open this time. "Bučka!" Aljaž whispered, his voice faltering and eyes filling with tears of happiness. Janette let out a groan which sounded like a gurgle and mumble mixed together. "Clear her airways!" The doctor commanded, and one of the nurses did so. Clear her airways? Wasn't that something they did to newborn babies? Aljaž had seen them do this on Call The Midwife so had some idea of what was going on. After a lot of suction noises, her airways were clear, according to the doctor. They all waited on Janette to speak once more. "Wh-where am I?" She piped up, her voice mingling with the machines. "You're in the hospital baby, you had an accident. But you're safe now." Aljaž reassured her He gently stroked the top of her head where bandages did not cover. "Umm, wh-what accident? Why are you calling me 'baby'?" She replied with more power in her voice. Aljaž sat, confused. Was this the 'not exactly the same' that the doctor had talked about? Regardless, he continued to speak to her, "It'll be okay, you'll be fine." Reassurance in his voice was evident. He waited on Janette's response. She gathered enough energy to say, "Thank you, Doctor." Aljaž looked at the doctor, then at Janette, "What do you mean, Doctor, baby?' He stopped, confusion taking over, "It's me, Aljaž, you know, your boyfriend?" She looked into his eyes before letting out a weak laugh and saying, "Ah, doctor, you do make me laugh. Now, when can I see Jason?"
The colour drained from Aljaž's face. She had completely forgotten him. That was the 'not exactly the same' part.