Paper Planes Back Home

ARRIVAL, II . ONE

He is sweating bullets.

The hall is abuzz with an electric mix of anxiety and excitement. Male and female aspirants walk or linger around, chatting with each other or doing last-minute vocalizations while Aaron quietly sits at one corner, nervously tapping his rolled-up music sheet against his knee. On a regular audition day, Aaron comes into the room confident, prepared, and ready to impress. He has always made it a point to carry a positive vibe with him; he believed it will bring him luck.

"Hey, Aaron..."

He looks up to see a lanky, red-haired guy—Ian Paulsen—holding two small paper cups, one of which is handed to him. "Thanks," he says, taking the cup. "What number are we up to?"

"106, I think." Ian sits beside Aaron, his friend's antsy hand movements not escaping him. "Are you going to be all right?"

"Yeah," Aaron responds curtly and takes a drink of water. He's kind of disappointed it isn't anything alcoholic because he feels like he could use a shot or two of liquid courage right about now.

Ian sneaks a peek at the music sheet Aaron is holding. "Came here prepared, right?"

"Yeah."

"Look, man...I know you're not completely with me right now, but while you're up there, you need to focus," Ian says, clapping Aaron's back. Having gone to one too many auditions before, Ian knows his friend already knows this, but decides there isn't any harm in a gentle reminder. Especially not when said friend's eyes seem so unfocused.

Aaron only nods in response, knowing Ian only meant well. Still, it's difficult for him to focus when the person he's used to hearing encouraging words from every audition day hasn't yet woken up. There has been no word from Anna all morning as well (and he understands she might be busy, but no news makes him even more concerned) which makes him just want to give the audition up and run back to Hunter General as soon as he can.

He remembers Ian's words, though—"Give her something to smile about when she wakes up"—and stays put. There are only a couple more aspirants ahead of him, after all. What's another hour or two?

"I'll come with you to the hospital later," Ian tells him. "I want to see Gianna too. Having more people around her will help make her feel that she isn't alone, you know. Make her want to come back...

"What?" Ian asks when Aaron turns his head to look at him curiously.

"Back from where?"

Ian shrugs. "I don't know. A limbo of some sort, I guess."

"You believe in those sorts of things?"

"Somewhat," the redhead replies, then throws Aaron a sideways glance. "Nothing wrong in believing in something that alleviates burdening thoughts."

Someone from down the hall calls "107!" and a lady gets up to enter the audition room. The hall quiets down for several seconds and resumes its normal racket as soon as the door closes behind 107. Aaron checks the number he's given. 109.

"Gramps was in a coma once. It lasted for a couple of months," Ian relates, figuring that getting a conversation going (no matter how one-sided) would be good for Aaron's nerves. "We never left him...I mean, of course some of us had to go to work, go back home, and all that stuff, but we always made sure someone was there with him. The doctor and nurses said that it helps...

"You know what Gramps told us months after he woke up?"

Aaron doesn't say a word, but Ian sees the burning curiosity in his eyes.

"He told us that he got letters from us while he was asleep."

"What?"

Nodding, Ian continues, "Letters in the form of paper planes."