Chapter Title: The First Awakening
Author:DreamBrother
Summary: Return of the Senses (sounds like a Star Wars movie) A continuation for the events in the first chapter, for all those who aren't the Titanic type and requested a happier follow on. You happy duckies, you. But I'm worse. I didn't have the guts to state the ending, one way or another. What a wuss.
Disclaimer: Not mine. I wouldn't know what to do with them if they were.
Author's Note:Well, you guys asked for it. Here you have it. Hope it lives up to whatever pre-conceived notions or expectations you had for this. Thanks for all the lovely reviews. This is my thank you. Especially to Melissa, who started off the campaign. One more thing, I'm nowhere near a science student, let alone proficient in medicine. So, forgive my mistakes, just roll with the punches. There should something known as a FanFic Writer License. If the poets can have one, why can't we? But I researched a bit on the whole ''hearing being the last sense to go'' and it's true. It's usually a toss-up between hearing and touch. PM me if you want the link.
Oh, and this story is going a bit out of control. Got some events in mind I want to tie to this story. Deal with the aftermath, the emotional fallout, especially for our curly haired guy. But I might put that in Sensory Overload, the Charlie POV. Be sure to watch out. Sociology is over :D
The First Awakening
''I said to Life, I would hear Death speak. Life raised her voice a little higher and said, Do you hear him now?'' – Khalil Gibran
His senses returned in the reverse order of their departure. It was as though someone had written them all down, in the order of disappearance and then folded the paper in half, the crease being the line signifying the in-between. His hearing was the last to go, it was the first to return.
The last thing he remembered hearing was the voice of his little brother. As he returned to consciousness, what resounded in his ears was a combination of a series of beeps which increased in frequency the more he returned to the land of the living, as well as a soft, somewhat hoarse voice speaking softly nearby.
'Charlie? Why is his voice so rough? He needs to take better care of it, how else is he going to explain his mumbo jumbo to his students…and to my team?' were Don's first thoughts. Not exactly what you would expect from a man waking from the depths of unconsciousness but hey, it's what he thought.
The increase in his heartbeat ('Heart monitor. Great, I'm in a hospital. Darn it') broke Charlie out of his conversation with…him, Don presumed, and he heard the rustling of cloth and a scrape of chair legs against the floor as he sensed, heard, his brother move closer to him.
''Don? You with me? Squeeze my hand if you can,'' Don heard his brother say, in a slightly stronger voice, the hope and happiness in his tone reaching Don in waves.
It was Charlie's request to him to squeeze his hand that made Don realize that his sense of touch, his ability to feel had returned. And what he felt was the weight of his brother's warm hand in his, and his other hand on Don's head, running through his hair. For somebody who didn't like having his hair messed with by anyone, Charlie sure didn't mind messing up Don's hair. Mustering up whatever strength he could find, he exerted a minuscule amount of pressure on his brother's hand, but it was enough for Charlie.
''Hey, you're awake! Thank God. Took you long enough, bro,'' As he said those words, Don felt his brother put a hand on his shoulder and his head in the crook between Don's neck and opposing shoulder to give what could only be described as a semi-hug, limited by the fact that the receiver was lying flat on his back on a bed. Looked like his sense of smell had decided to come early and Don was inundated by the scent of his brother, and he revelled in it. Had Don had the energy, he would have lifted him arm and put it around Charlie's back, kept him close for even a moment longer, but it looked like he would have to do that later. Who said he wasn't ok with hugging in the first place? He was perfectly fine with it. He would have been perfectly fine with hugging his brother now, but no, his arms had to weigh a ton right now.
Spurned by his brother's actions, Don felt it high time to see if another one of his senses had returned. At first, the simple act of trying to lift his eyelids was like trying to win an Olympic gold, but he kept at it, encouraged by the words of his brother who pressed him on, and his efforts were rewarded by the sight of a black and white blurry mass in front of him. Blinking slowly, as fast as he could manage at the moment, with each blink tempting him to keep his eyes shut for just a little bit longer, his vision cleared enough for him to see his brother properly. Charlie could only be described as beaming, if his expression was anything to go by, but ... there was something else there. Something in Charlie's eyes that wasn't sitting too well with Don but at the moment, he didn't have the energy to bring out the concerned big brother, as well as the investigator, in him.
Relief at seeing, hearing and feeling his brother allowed Don to relax enough to let other things come to focus. His throat felt like someone had decided to replace it with sandpaper and his chest…well, it was a combination of having to lift Olympus every time he breathed as well as a sharp pain that would zing with every rise and fall of his chest. But a choice between this and dead? A little pain with Charlie and no pain, no Charlie? He'd take this. He wasn't exactly sure how he knew that on the other side lay his end, but right now, he just did. What were the happy drugs for anyway?
Along with the sensation of pain, came the flow of images. As he saw the sight of a gunman pointing his weapon at his baby brother play across his eyes, the gunman about to pull the trigger, and felt the sharp, fearful realization that he couldn't pull his own weapon and shoot in time to save his brother, he didn't notice nor hear the increasing frequency of his heartbeat and respiration, belied by the frantic beeping of the monitors.
''Don? Calm down bro, everything's fine, you're fine, let me just call a nurse,'' he heard Charlie say, a note of panic entering his previously jubilant tone of voice, as he felt Charlie's hands fumble around him, searching for the call-button.
''Char-lie? You…ok? Did he-,'' at that point, Don's voice gave out, deciding that even those few words had been too generous for his sandpaper throat to handle. But those few words were enough for Charlie to understand his brother's agitation.
''Me? Don, I'm fine. Healthy as a horse. No holes in me. Thanks to you. Which we're going to talk..,'' began Charlie but Don felt the pull of sleep beckon him and he gave into it, after satisfying himself with the fact that Charlie was fine. Comparing himself to horses, yes, but fine. Charlie was alive, breathing, and that's all that mattered to Don.
Four out of five senses. Good enough for him. He still had his brother.
TBC (evil bunnies. Never trust those furry little critters)
Faster you review, faster I write. Yes, I'm greedy, does that surprise you? Let me know what you think, I know this is short, but I'm working on a few longer chapters to add to this, if you have any ideas about what you'd like to see, I'd be happy to read them and see if I can incorporate that. Medical advice would be great too.
Hope you liked.