Part One. Chapter Five. Alex.

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I slept. I knew I was sleeping and I knew that I slept for a long time. I could hear people around me, but it was as if I was deep under the surface of the ocean, listening to muffled snippets every so often. And then it would become peaceful and I would just sleep. Then there were other times when I floated close to the surface of my submersed slumber and during these times the noises would be clearer, I could recognise the sounds, I could understand the words.

For instance, I could hear the steady beep of a machine close by. Being a doctor's brat, I could recognise it for what it was. There would be a machine monitoring my heart beat and probably another monitoring my brainwaves. If you give me a minute, I could even tell you what they were called. There were scritches of a pen sliding across the clipboard and ruffles of paper. There were conversations too, such as;

"...coma. We believe that he was under some stress and the additional weight of rejection forced him under."

"Rejection? How is that possible? There are no supernaturals in our bloodlines that we are aware of." That sounded like my mother. She sounded upset, yet as awful as it sounds, I couldn't bring myself to care.

"It has been known for other species to become the mate of a supernatural, although it is quite rare." I am assuming that this voice belongs to another doctor, perhaps one versed in supernatural medical matters. I did not recognise this voice at the time, but I came to hear it several times following this.

"He's been close to the local pack for years," my father admitted. "Could this have some effect on what created such a pairing?"

"I can only say that that is in the hands of the Goddess. Only she knows the reasons why. I can only offer my condolences to your son. The rejection hit him quite hard."

"Do we know who his mate was? Is there anything that person can do to help us reverse this?" My mother sounded hopeful, but she can't know that I really don't want him here. I won't bother to wake up if he comes. I won't bother even if he begs upon his hands and knees.

"The Wolfpack were as astounded and shocked as you were," the perhaps doctor told them. "Not one there could tell us who rejected your son. They could only say that it might have been a member of one of the visiting packs and that they would try to find out who. As for helping him, if he accepted the rejection, then the bond would be broken... I doubt...."

I felt myself sinking back into my own subconscious, I didn't need to hear anymore. I was there. It was no visiting pack member. It was David.

I came up close to the ocean of my mind a few times, but never felt the need to break through. I was visited by Marcus a couple of times. He wanted me to tell him who caused me to fall into a coma so that he could rip him or her a new one. Little did he know that he was partially to blame, though I guess it was only a little in the scheme of things. It was my pointless feelings for him caused the damage and I can't blame him for those. That was all me.

Marcus also came to visit another time. He didn't say much except that he missed me. This used to make me feel good, to feel wanted by him, but I felt nothing when he said it now.

Charles and Adam visited me more frequently, I think. I heard them when I was deeply immersed as well as when I was more 'awake.' They were the ones to tell me that David had left the pack in order to try and find his mate. If I could have laughed out loud, I probably would have, his mate was lying before them after all. I knew why he had rejected me, I was everything he did not want in a mate. I had a flat chest, could look him in the eye instead of up through long lashes and I had a piece of equipment between my legs that he shared. Oh and I had no Wolf. So yes, being human and Male were my problems, basically the core that is me.

I hated myself too. I hated the fact that I would have accepted him if he had accepted me. Partly because I was a weak human, I couldn't find the strength to break that bond by myself and partly because I was mentally fragile and vulnerable at that moment in time. Ripe for the taking. A perfect rebound. Fuck, I was just weak.

My parents visited, but as much as I love them and I know that they love me, most of their conversations were not with or at me, but with medical professionals that poked and prodded me and pretty much all said the same thing. I would wake up when I was ready, however the longer it took, the less likely it would be that I ever regained consciousness. I admit the idea of staying in my peaceful ocean was appealing. I did not feel hurt here, I did not feel pain. I did not feel any hopeless love or stupid attraction. I felt nothing. Perhaps if I could take that with me, I might bother to wake up... but then again what was the use.

I had missed my exams. I would have to take another year of school before attending university. But that would mean staying here, in this town and near to that pack. I doubted David would stay away forever and I wasn't sure what I would do or how I would feel if I saw him again. I had also lost my job. Well, I can't help clean up around the old dears if I am flat on my back in oblivion now can I? I enjoyed my job though. I would miss the elderly people at the home and their stories. What can I say, I was always Grandmama's boy.

In fact, she visited to, but it was probably just within my imagination that she did. She held me, just like she used to when I was young, sang to me and told me stories of her time beyond the veil. I don't remember any of those stories, I probably wasn't supposed to. All I recall is that she told me that I would be well again, that I would meet somebody new and they would help me to heal. I wasn't sure I wanted that at all, but I couldn't protest as she pushed me to the surface of my mind.

And this time I broke through and woke up.

It was dark when I opened my eyes and they were sore and my vision more than a little blurry. I felt a little numb in my body, but I guess that was to be expected. I think I just stared at the ceiling for a while, before trying to recall how to move. You would think it would be instinctual, but it seemed to take an age until I could turn my neck to one side so I could look around. I was in a private room in the hospital. Well, my parents could afford it. I suspect the fact that I am in hospital and not being cared for at home was due to my mother, she could visit me more often here, where she worked. I turned my head again. I.V. The electrocardiograph has long since been removed as well as any other unnecessary machines. That indicates that I was under for a long time. Window. Grandmama's patchwork quilt. It usually raises some nostalgia, but I didn't feel anything when I looked at it. Under the dim light, the warm colours looked muted.

I lay there for a while, testing fingers, testing toes. It ached to move, I felt feeble. I watched as the outside world began to brighten, the light began to pour into my hospital room. It was then I noticed something strange. The patchwork quilt was not colourful like I recalled it, the colours were nothing but shades of grey. The walls were white, but they were probably white from the beginning. The blinds were metallic grey. Maybe this was a different quilt?

The door to the room opened suddenly and a man in a white coat came in muttering; "Let's see how things stand today." I can tell by the surprised stare that he was not expecting me to be awake. My eyes flickered over him as he calmly began to explain my situation to me. But I wasn't listening to him, too busy looking at his dark grey hair and his black eyes and the grey tone of his skin, wondering why the hell could I not see anything in colour...

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