PANIC.

He's not responding.

Did you take any drugs? What drugs did you take?

There were drugs. There were pills.

He turned grey right in front of me. His lips were blue.

Talk to me, tell me your name.

What's your name?

Stay with me, Roy.

I understand why he did this.

He couldn't live with himself.

What year is it?

Keep yourself together.

Goddammit, Roy!

He's gone.

An unbearable ringing sound pounded in Roy's ears. He could see three men in coats in his tunnel vision, a blinding light coming in waves around him.

Was this death? Death was white, ringing, nausea. Dear god, nausea. He groaned, feeling the need to dry heave, but nothing happened. He inhaled quickly and harshly.

"Can you hear me?"

Roy's eyes practically were bulging out of his head. The continuous loud ringing gave way to a throbbing headache. He couldn't lift his head. It felt like it was weighed down by a thousand bricks.

"Mr. Walker."

Roy pulled himself up straight, suddenly completely awake.

He realized exactly where he was.

"I'm...I'm not dead!" Roy looked down at his legs motionless under a thin white blanket. "I'm not dead..."

No. Not again.

Not a place like this.

This was all too familiar. He couldn't do this again.

Those feelings of being trapped, dependent, isolated. It flooded over him once more. From when he first woke up in that hospital bed six months earlier, unsure what exactly had happened, he thought he had simply hit his head. And then he remembered, and realized he couldn't tell which toe the doctor was touching, or move his legs at all, and realized it was bad. And he had done the stunt for nothing. And Alice didn't return his affections. And he was trapped. No matter how much he tried to will the feeling back, nothing happened. Nothing.

This wasn't gonna happen again.

And he was alive.

Roy let out an anguished cry of frustration, desperation, and despair.

His attempt had failed.

"Mr. Walker do you know where you are?"

"I know where I am."

"Tell me why you were trying to kill yourself."

"What?" Roy asked in disbelief.

"That's why you're here. A young woman found you had taken too many pills."

"Where is she?" Roy asked desperately.

"You're not allowed any visitors. She-"

Instinctively and without thought Roy attempted to stand up, holding onto the side table with a death grip. His knees buckled beneath him and he collapsed to the floor. Roy groaned in frustration. The doctor looked down at him in concern.

"You're much sicker than we thought."

"N-no, I'm para...don't fucking touch me! Get your hands off me."

Roy protested as the unknown doctor instructed an orderly to "kindly help place the patient back onto the bed, please."

But he could do nothing, his arms felt like noodles and his head was still heavy and pounding. He still felt himself coming in and out of consciousness muttering incoherent sentences to the doctor standing over him.

Roy didn't like this at all.

"I think I should go over your chart again," the doctor said. "Restraints shouldn't be necessary. He's obviously too weak."

"What?"

"Mr. Walker-"

"Who the fuck told you my name?"

"I was not in the ambulance with you."

"Ambulance?"

"Roy!" The door bursting open. Dahlia nearly ran over to the bedside. "Dear lord you're awake."

"Ma'am, Mr. Walker needs to be isolated right now. You have to leave."

"Don't fucking talk to her like that."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

"Oh boy..."

"Jesus Christ, Roy," Dahlia whimpered. She stared at the doctor. "Please."

"Five minutes," he said before rolling his eyes and closing the door behind him.

"Dahlia."

"You are so lucky, Roy. Y'know I thought I'd stop by and apologize for William, and I saw you from a distance by the water. You practically just slid out of your chair. Your lips were blue. Dammit Roy you were dead for ten minutes."

"So I died."

"You're lucky we installed a telephone. The ambulance got there just in time. You woke up in the ambulance."

"I don't remember."

"You weren't cooperating. You were denying you took anything. You kept denying and denying. But I saw the broken bottle. That's the only reason they knew how to bring you back."

"I see."

"You threw up, punched a doctor, and passed back out."

"Oh."

"Why didn't you just tell me you were hurting?" Tears welled up in her eyes. She flung her arms around Roy, burying her head in the nape of his neck. "You didn't have to do this."

"I'm sorry," Roy said. "I was selfish."

Dahlia stared at Roy. She unexpectedly slapped him across the face. Roy was stunned.

"I'm angry at you."

"You sound like a girl I know. And my brother." He rubbed his cheek. The sting distracted him from the killer headache. "You didn't tell my family, did you?"

"Absolutely not," Dahlia said.

"Not Whit?"

"No, Roy."

"I need to get out of here."

The door burst open again. "Leave, miss."

"I'll be outside." Dahlia quickly kissed Roy on the cheek. It took him by surprise and she left hurriedly.

"Mr. Walker."

"Roy," he corrected.

"I noticed when they checked your vitals the reflexes in your legs were completely diminished. That's something to be concerned of. Can you close your eyes and tell me which toe I'm touching?"

"Don't touch me," Roy snapped. Not again. "I'm actually paralyzed."

"The ambulance service didn't put that in your chart. Have you always been like this?"

Been like this.

"No," Roy said in a low voice.

"Does this have anything to do with your suicide attempt?"

"...No."

"Please explain why you've tried to take your life."

"This life is a big nothing."

His emotions felt numb.