All The Bright Places - Asleep

In case you ever foolishly forget.

Violet

June 17

I wake up from my ringing phone and I think to myself, I've slept! This is the first time in weeks that I've slept a full night without crying myself to sleep. Somehow it feels like I'm getting used to the whole Finch thing.

I grab my phone and pick up the unknown number. "Violet Markey. Can I help you?" I ask when I pick up.

"Miss Markey," a familiar voice says. "It's me doctor Brown. I've got great news, mister Finch seems fully awake. He even spoke a few words this morning."

My mouth opens and I'm so happy I don't know what to say. I stammer inaudible words because I'm so shocked.

Finch has returned! I knew he would!

I nod in full happiness. "Thank you, I'll get to the hospital as soon as I can."

Brown waits for me to break the connection and I jog to the hospital. When I arrive Brown is waiting for me in the entrance room.

"Thank you for coming, Miss Markey," he says. "Miss Finch didn't even pick up the phone when I called her to tell her the news."

That's nothing new.

"Of course," I say. "Am I allowed to see him?"

"You're not only allowed, I'm asking you to go see him," Brown says with a careful smile.

"Thank you."

"But please, miss Markey," Brown tells me. "I have to warn you, don't be startled if he's not acting like he did before he got into a coma." I nod. "I don't know mister Finch like he was before, so to me he seems completely fine and I'm surprised he's recovering so amazingly. It a miracle, honestly."

I nod again and thank Brown.

Before I enter Finch's room, I take a deep breath.

What if Finch isn't Finch anymore? I shake away the thought and move away the curtain that was keeping me apart from him.

Finch is sitting with his back against the wall. He's wearing his black T-shirt again; I think it's just the easiest to put on. His hair is messy, just like always.

His eyes shining bright like an ocean struck by sunshine. His mouth opens and somehow – even though Brown told me he's talking again – I expect the painful groaning to come out.

But it doesn't.

Finch opens his mouth and says, "It's y-you." Right after that Finch's familiar lopsided smile appears on his face.

This is Finch. I just know it.

I smile back at him. When I look behind me to thank Brown I see that he has left the room.

I walk towards Finch, take a seat next to his bed and cheerfully say, "Good morning, sleepyhead."

He doesn't reply, like somehow he doesn't know how.

Finch stares at the curtain and his eyes seem sadder than when I walked in. A tear rolls over his cheek and within a second Finch's head is lying in his arms.

He is crying.

I lay my hand on his shoulder and ask, "Is something wrong?" He doesn't reply.

After a minute of crying, Finch looks at me with teared up eyes. His voice breaks when he says, "I'm sorry." Tears start streaming over cheeks again. "I-I don't know how to s-say th-this, I don't want to h-h-hurt you."