Vision Of Escaflowne Fan Fiction ❯ For Want of a Nail ❯ Chapter 1 ( Chapter 1 )

For want of a nail, the shoe was lost;

For want of the shoe, the horse was lost;

For want of the horse, the rider was lost;

For want of the rider, the battle was lost;

For want of the battle, the kingdom was lost;

And all for the want of a horseshoe nail.

The Real Mother Goose, Copyright 1916, Checkerboard Press: New York

Chapter 1

Darkness. It was always dark. He didn't know when it started, just that it was all he knew. Nothing but black darkness surrounding him. But it was now coming to an end.

A vague feeling of light hitting his face and eyelids and warmth all around. Through his eyelids he saw a dark red. It was the light going through his eyelids.

His eyes fluttered open to see a wooden ceiling.

"Hi there. I was afraid you'd never wake up," came a soft feminine voice from his left. He turned his head left, trying to locate the soft, warm, friendly voice. He squinted from the light that was probably coming from a window, somewhere past the foot of the bed he lay on.

The woman walked from the doorway to beside the bed and sat in a chair, that was conveniently placed at the bedside.

"Hello. I'm Sarah. I've been taking care of you for the past month," said the young woman. "Can you please tell me your name?"

A puzzled look came over the young man's features as he looked at Sarah. She had black, wavy hair that went down her back, with a dark blue headband that kept her thick hair from going into her face. And she had such startling ice blue eyes that seemed to pierce into the young man.

He attempted to speak, but found that his mouth was sticky and throat dry and he started to cough.

"Water," he croaked.

Sarah reached over to the nightstand where a pitcher of water and a glass were placed. She poured the water into it. She then held it towards him. He pulled his right hand from beneath the bed covers for the glass and gasped.

"What is it?" Sarah asked with concern as she put the glass back on the table and came a step closer.

"My arm. What happened? What is this?" he asked in a raspy whisper, his voice trembling while looking at his metallic and right-handed claw.

"I thought you would know. The men brought you in like that," Sarah replied quietly. "Do you remember anything?"

"No," he murmured. He put his hand beneath the covers again, as if to hide it from view. His pale eyebrows were knitted together in painful concentration as he tried to remember something of his life, a name, a face, anything.

He found that he couldn't and a tear escaped his eye. He felt his muscles start constricting as his body began to shudder and started sobbing quietly.

Sarah gently leaned over him and slowly wrapped her arms around him, whispering into his right ear, "Shh. Don't worry, we'll find out who you are. It'll just take some time…" She continued murmuring encouraging and soothing words to him. His left arm came out from under the covers and hugged her back as he quieted down and his tears subsided.

His head was still buried into her shoulder and black hair, which smelled faintly of roses. He relaxed a bit. Sarah pulled away to look into his dark, red eyes with her sympathetic blue ones.

"Do you think you can sit up?" she asked quietly.

He gave a nod and attempted to push himself up. Sarah reached out her right arm behind him to support his back, while her other hand clutched his bandaged left shoulder and pulled him upright. She then put a few more pillows behind him, so that he could lean back.

"You're definitely well muscled and all, but I think it would be wise to let me do everything for you for now. You have been comatose for a month, so don't be offended," Sarah explained as she lifted the glass of water from the table. He brought his left hand up and placed it around her hand and the glass to help guide it to his lips.

Sarah felt her face grow warm and tried to fight it and reclaim her professional attitude. His hand was large and warm. He was her patient for God's sake! But he was handsome with his aqua-silver hair, dark-red eyes, well-toned body…

Sarah sighed to herself as she tried to divert her train of thoughts.

The young man finished the glass of water and said, "Thank you."

Sarah snapped out of her thoughts and quickly replied, "You're welcome." Blushing under his intense gaze.

"Well, we need to come up with a name for you until we find your real name, because I rather not just say `Hey you' all the time," Sarah said with a smile as she placed the empty glass back down on the table. The young man gave a wan smile at her attempt at humor.

"You might as well name me since you have been taking care of me," he replied in his pleasant deep voice.

"Ummm… This is hard! It's not like naming a puppy and I have an awful hard time even with that!" Sarah was already exasperated. The young man gave a smile that reached his eyes as he chuckled softly. Sarah noted how handsome he looked when he smiled.

"How about John?"

"Sounds good with me," replied the young man, now named John, with a faint smile.

"Good. Now. I came here to check on how you were healing when you woke up on me. I'm glad that you did. I'll be unwrapping your bandages to check on your stitches which should come out today," Sarah said in a professional tone.

John looked down at himself and discovered that he was bare-chested where he wasn't wrapped in bandages, which went over his left shoulder, and under his arms down to the middle of his toned abdomen. He also noticed his metallic right arm and how it was strapped and bolted to his right shoulder and chest.

"John? What are you thinking?"

"Are you not afraid of my arm, or me?"

Sarah paused from tugging at a knot in the bandages, which she was trying to loosen. She looked at John with a thoughtful expression on her face, then replied, "Not really, I mean, I was startled at first, but I've had a whole month to get used to seeing it and all…"

"What about me? You don't know me…"

She gave him a gentle warm smile and said, "You don't look like someone I should be afraid of. I think you look rather like a… lost angel…" she blushed and looked away.

John also blushed, but said nothing.

Sarah cleared her throat a little and went back to trying to undo the bandages.

"Here, let me."

John looked at his right arm with disdain, but brought it up anyways and hooked a claw under a couple bandages and ripped them off. He continued to cut all of them off until he was left looking at his bare skin.

He saw the stitches Sarah spoke of. There was a scar about two inches long on his chest, it was so close to his heart that he wondered why he wasn't dead.

"We did some quick surgery. You had lost a lot of blood, so much in fact, that you were thought to be a lost cause, but we tried anyways, because there is always hope. And here you are, alive and all," she told him upon seeing his contemplative look. "Well, this might sting a little since your skin healed around the thread."

"I'll live through it. Considering…" at this he gave a glance at his robotic arm.

"Um, well, yes. Anyways, here I go."

She brought out tweezers and a pair of surgical scissors from her apron pockets, then scooted the chair right up against the bed so she was facing him. She placed a cool hand right beside the scar, and with the other hand, brought up the scissors and proceeded cutting the stitches carefully and efficiently. With that part finished, she replaced the scissors with the tweezers, looking at John in the face as if in warning, and went to pull the stitches out.

John clutched the bedspread a little as each piece of string was pulled out. Each felt like a pinch and had a strange sensation when pulled out from under his skin.

Eighteen pieces of string later the two-inch-long mottled scar had pinprick sized red dots lining either side where the string was pulled out. They also found that John had made holes in the bed spread with his right hand.

True, the pinching feeling had bothered him a little, but he really didn't clutch the sheets all too hard. The claws were a slight problem. He had mumbled a `sorry,' but Sarah just smiled and said it was no big deal.

"So, do you feel hungry?" queried Sarah.

"Very, I think I can eat a dragon!"

"I'm sorry, but you can only have liquids or mush. We don't want to shock your stomach since you've been living off of broth mostly."

"Very well. Do you think I can take a bath afterwards?" John asked hopefully. He felt grimy and his scalp itched a little. "I feel filthy."

"I suppose you would since you've had nothing but sponge baths since you've been here. You're too big to move around much."

John took this in and began to blush. She must've seen him naked to give him a bath and check on him. Sarah saw him blush and giving him a mischievous smile said, "You have nothing to be ashamed of, not that I looked. I made sure you remained decent when I washed you." She gave him a wink. He did not feel reassured.

He took a look under the sheets to find that he only wore a pair of black boxer shorts.

"Sorry you have nothing else on, but it would've been too much of a hassle to dress you and such when you were dead to the world. I'll see if I can get some clothes your size, but keep in mind that you're pretty tall. Most of our men would be lucky to reach your chin. I'll be back in a few minutes with your soup."

With that, Sarah got up and cleared away the little medical equipment she had brought and started for the door.

"Thank you," said John to her back.

She gave a nod and continued out the door and down the hallway to the kitchen.

Author's Note: I'll probably have to re-write this because I'm bugging myself that this isn't how it is for real coma patients. I've looked up on the care of coma patients and I think I'll incorporate it after I'm finished with this fic to make it more real.