The Silence Of Metawin.

This Ringing in My Ears

He was somewhere between elated and disappointed.

Elated because Win had woken up right after he had touched him, and his first words had been his name.

Disappointed because Win hadn't referred to him as 'Dr. Vachirawit' since the very first time they had met. Had he lost some of his memory? The notion wasn't impossible, and fairly common for survivors of car crashes.

"Hello, Win. How much do you remember?" Depending on how much he did remember, maybe he could spin the story so that he and Win were already a couple. Save a little time and energy for the both of them.

"I remember you, so you can stop freaking out," he said and Bright visibly relaxed, "and I remember everything else. Fighting with Third after the underwear fell from the sun visor, fighting with him in the middle of traffic, getting run over by a car. Not just hit: run over. And that... really hurt." He closed his eyes and furrowed his brow, as if reliving the pain.

Underwear falling from the sun visor, hmm? Pride swelled in his chest for his daughter's creativity. Clever girl.

His eyes opened again, his head turning left and right in a way that would have been seen as 'frantic' if he was able to move his head faster. "Where's Third?"

He had a slight slur to his words, and Bright hoped beyond hope that no permanent damage had been done to his sweet, empathetic brain.

"Third's behind the curtain. He's still unconscious." Bright had yet to release their interlocked hands but Win hadn't commented. He wondered if he even had feeling in the rest of his body yet since all he had moved so far was his head.

Win's eyes widened. "He got hit too? Oh my God, is he okay? What happened?"

"The same car that hit you hit him too. He's in a coma presently but seems to be recovering quickly." He was proud of himself for not lying, and it wasn't like the detail he had left out of Third saving his life was that important.

Win closed his eyes and grimaced. He looked like a bunny who was woken up too early from a nap.

"What are you doing here, Dr. Vachirawit?" His insistence with formalities began to be worrying.

"I was concerned for your health and well-being, of course."

"How long have I been here?"

"About two weeks. Don't worry, I personally sought to it that someone fed your dogs."

"Thank you. How many times have you visited?"

He contemplated lying. His eyes were still closed and he probably wouldn't be able to tell if he was lying this time. "Everyday for those two weeks." He didn't want to risk it.

His eyes opened again, his expression exasperated. "And what of all your other patients? When did you reschedule their appointments?"

Well. So no brain damage then. That little runt had bypassed going to the police and went straight to outing him to Win, which was significantly worse. He knew that what he said in the next few minutes would either make or break the trust between them. He squeezed his hand once more, and Win's lack of reaction convinced him that he still did not have feeling in the rest of his body.

"There are no other patients."

He looked surprised, but Bright knew it wasn't from the lack of patients but rather the fact that he had told the truth. "And why is that, Dr. Vachirawit?"

Each 'Dr. Vachirawit' shot a sharp pain up his spine. "There are no other patients because my license was suspended for unorthodox psychiatry. I used methods such as hypnotism, injection of hallucinogens, flashing light therapy, and several others I'm not at liberty to mention, but it was all for the benefit of the patient."