Dick Grayson is just wingin it (nightwingingit) wrote in wariscoming,@ 2011-07-24 10:32:00
allana solo, kon-el/superboy|
Who: Kon and Allana!
What: Waking up in the infirmary
When: Late evening today!
Where: complex infirmary
For a normal person a coma was a slow process. The brain's way of healing. For Kon it felt the same. Despite being a clone of a Kryptonian and a human, it didn't make the process any easier with his system getting a full restart. It was almost like a metaphorical blue screen of death on a personal computer. Or an improper shut down of a machine when Loki had shut him down during the Horsemen fiasco. He had been unconscious for several days. He had a varying general sense of time, but mentally he was gone. He didn't respond to anything physically. Doctors could try anything, but nothing worked. After the denigration of his memories and break down of his powers, his body demanded a rest and Kon was unable to stop it from coming.
He didn't move, he didn't really show any signs of being alive other then steady breathing. On occasion he was able to shift slightly, and his fingers would twitch involuntarily as an indication that he was in fact alive and his body was trying to remind them that he was there. Though on the outside he seemed perfectly normal, it was obvious by the lack of activity that he was not. There were no physical abrasions where a wound could have caused damage, no signs of what could have possibly caused the shut down physically, just the shell of a normally vibrant and curious teenager. It was as if his brain had simply hung up a sign that said 'Gone Fishing' and left him for an extended period of time and he was in reality just sleeping.
In retrospect he was lucky. If he'd continued down the path he was headed without interruption it could have ended worse. He could have hurt someone, or possibly kept straight on losing his memories and his personality. Eventually he could have forgotten who he was. Still it was an isolating feeling. To be stranded without the functions he was used to being able to do every day. To be unable to wake up to calls of his name, or gentle touches or friends and doctors.
He had a general sense of time in his coma. But that time was like a deep dark and lonely stretch of desert road in the all-encompassing darkness just before dawn. In his dreams he walked that road with a sense of calmness but growing restlessness lying underneath. There was some movement on his road, but he really didn't notice. He just kept on walking forward. That was his only goal. Keep moving. If he could see himself lying in the infirmary he might have been afraid, but instead in his isolation he could only stoically accept what had happened. There was no other choice.
For the most part his dream world had actually been peaceful until the day his body decided to rebel and is brain thought it was time to wake up. That's when things shifted and changed. He started to take in more regular breaths, his eyes fluttered slightly and he finally had some interaction with his outside surroundings. His dream world changed drastically. His reality shifted. His eyes finally began to open, and his lonely road began to crumble under his feet as he finally reached the end. It was like something out of the matrix at the very last stop at the end of his dreams, light rushing past him so fast he couldn't be sure what it was.
All he knew was that it was green. It was lining the sides of his dark road, making it feel more like a chamber then a road anymore. He was walking on a road high above where the ground should be, looking at his memories in bits of green light that stuck like glass against invisible walls closing in on him. It should have been suffocating, but it was the opposite. He felt a desperate need to see more. Not to close his eyes and hide like he might have prior. Each block of green had a different memory. One was meeting Allana, he felt a sense of joy wash over him. Another was the Kent Farm on a sunny day in October and a bitter sweet feeling.
It didn't last long. Like shattering glass everything fell to pieces underneath him as he stopped to relive a memory. To try to remember what it felt like, he was left alone again on his stretch of desert road. No green lights to guide the way, only a crossroad in the distance. To him his dream world was real, the pain he felt was what his life had become. If he could really call it a life. The sign had no words, only an indication of which road to take. One was battered and old to the right, the other was new. Kon chose the path to the right, and his dream world was left in his wake.
His physical body became semi-conscious and his eyes began to open. For the first time in days he could see a blurry world. His body shifted and his hand reached out very slightly. He tried to sit up, but it didn't work.