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Perceptions
By : dreamingvision
Category: +. to F > FAKE
Views: 1034 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0Disclaimer: I do not own FAKE, and I do not profit financially from writing this. - Chapter List
The room was too noisy, in Ryo's opinion. Every single sound – the beeping of the monitors, the quiet whispers of those gathered in the room, the gentle yet confident steps of the nurses when they entered – grated upon his nerves, and he wanted to shout for everyone to be quiet. Well, not the beeping of the monitors. Despite their annoyances to him, he actually welcomed their steady rhythm. They actually told him his partner's heart still beat within his chest. They told him air reached Dee's lungs. He just did not like it when the nurses entered the room, and everyone stopped whispering to stare and to wait. They wanted news on whether or not Dee was improving, but the nurses never said anything. They simply checked on his vitals, wrote them down, and exited the room. When they were gone, the whispering resumed. He glanced around the room.
Not very many detectives from the 27th were there to visit Dee. So far, it was just he, J.J., Commissioner Rose, and Captain Smith. Ted, Drake, Marty, and Diane had to go back to attend to their duties. Just because a cop lay in a hospital bed, fighting for his life, it did not mean the criminals took time off. Murders, thefts, drug sales, all of them still took place. The world continued to spin, despite the fact Dee never moved.
Knowing the world kept on going as if nothing ever happened angered Ryo like nothing else ever could. The rage in his heart and his soul set his blood to boiling . . . no . . . not boiling. It set his blood on fire, a raging inferno no amount of water or fighting could ever allay. Fueling the rage, the anger and despair was the knowledge of where he had been and what he had been doing when his partner had been attacked. The sounds of his own pleasure struggled and clawed their way back into the forefront of his mind, drowning out the steady then erratic beeping of the monitors. Guilt over his own actions multiplied the rage and the despair, and Ryo wanted nothing more than to punch someone. Preferably himself, but to do so would raise questions. Instead, he sat there, quiet and almost as motionless as Dee. His mind, his conscious, refused to remain still, however, and the questions assaulted him like nothing else ever could.
'Why? Why did I involve myself with Rose like that?' he asked himself . . . No. He did not ask himself. His inner voice screamed at him. 'It shouldn't have happened! Never ever! I love Dee, and he knows it! So why, damn it? Why? Why did I do something so stupid?'
For that, he had no answers. At least, he had no answers that did not sound like excuses. Sure, he felt as if Dee had been ignoring him lately, but that had not been entirely true. The nights when Dee had not pounced him were the nights following the double shifts, and Ryo himself had wanted nothing more than to simply crawl into bed and sleep.
And it had been nice, to simply lay there in bed, in each other's arms. It had been nice to simply feel the steady rising and falling of Dee's chest as he breathed and slept. So why had he felt so deprived? Why had he turned to Rose, of all people? Dee despised Rose so why? Shame burned through him, replacing the rage, and he inched closer to Dee until he was able to take his partner's hand into his and simply out.
'I swear, I will tell you the truth,' Ryo promised as he gazed at Dee's prone form. 'But you need to come back to me. Please. I will do anything to have you open your eyes. Please. Give me a sign you're still with me, Dee. Please.'
The steady then erratic beeping of the monitors, the gentle yet confident steps of the nurses entering the room, and the quiet whispered conversations were his only responses.
Author's Note: Since this is only a five-part challenge, the story is technically completed. As I said in my first author's note, it's inspired by the 5-senses writing community over at livejournal. In some ways, it feels incomplete to me, but whether or not I'll find the inspiration to write a sequel, I don't know. We'll see what time and creativity bring to me.
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