Will You Remember Me?

This Nightmare

Francis Bonnefoy looked at the empty seat beside him and sighed. It had been four months since his boyfriend, Arthur Kirkland, had been in a car crash that had left him in a coma. He had picked up flowers for this pathetic "anniversary" of sorts that were currently in the back seat. If it had been for anything else, it would have probably been in the passengers seat up front, but ever since the accident, Francis hadn't let anyone or anything sit up there. That was Arthur's seat. Arthur always hated it when other people sat there.

He grabbed the flowers and exited the car. The walk up to the hospital, like every other day these past few months, was torturous yet promising. Francis kept hoping that maybe, if he walked through those doors enough times, the doctors and nurses would congratulate him and tell him the good news - that Arthur was awake and that he wanted to see him! Maybe, on this pathetic four month long anniversary, things would be different. Maybe Arthur would be awake. Francis opened the doors to the hospital and walked up to the front desk.

"I'm here to see Arthur Kirkland," he told the receptionist.

"Room... 437," she responded after a while. "You can go right on up."

Francis could feel his heart sink like a stone. "Has there been any progress reports on his condition?" he asked, barely hopeful.

"Not so far as we can tell."

He nodded. "Okay. Thank you."

He took the elevator up to the 4th floor; the ICU. He remembered the first time he took an elevator up here. He kept telling himself that that idiot of his couldn't have gotten in too much trouble, that Arthur was all right, that Arthur had to be all right. When he was told the news of Arthur's coma, he basically had a meltdown in the hospital. It's not something that he'd like to remember.

He walked down the hallway to Arthur's room. He stood in the hallway for a minute, wanting to believe that if he stood here long enough, he'd hear Arthur's voice again, telling him to get his "lousy ass in here." He smiled a little bit at the thought. A minute passed. Silence. Finally, Francis gathered the courage to open the door.

"Arthur, are you awake?" Francis asked, still hopeful for the impossible as he swung the door open.

The silence of the hospital room screamed back at him.

Arthur was laying there, like he always was. The sun was reflecting off of his golden blond hair. There were many balloons and flowers in the room, all with the same, unvarying message: Get Well Soon! As though any of that could help with Arthur waking up.

Francis bent down on his knees next to Arthur's bedside. "Hello, mon cher. I got you flowers. I know you normally don't like them since you say that they make you feel girly and feminine, but I just thought you could learn to like them. They're roses, so I just thought maybe this time you'd like them. You know, since you've mentioned to me before that they were your favorite. Well, you didn't really mention it to me. You were talking in your sleep. It's so cute when you talk in your sleep. I always meant to tell you that you do that, I just never..." Francis's voice trailed off and he took a few minutes to look at Arthur. "Oh, love," Francis started, tearing up. "How did this ever happen?"

Francis started to cry into the hospital blankets. "I miss you, Arthur! I miss you more than anything else in this entire world! It's not fair, damn it! It's not..." Francis's voice was almost inaudible at this point, he was crying too much. When he calmed himself down, he looked at his boyfriend. "I need you back, Arthur. I need you here with me. I need to hear your voice again. I need to feel your embrace and to run my fingers through your hair and to be able to kiss you. I need you, my love. I need you more than you know. Why did you have to go?"