Tav felt impossibly tired. His eyes were far too reluctant to open, even though he could see the brightness burning through the lids, suggesting it was later in the morning than the maid had been coming previously. He realised she was going to catch him in Darcy's bed, though he didn't care. But why was he so bone tired?

It took him a moment to realise something was wrong, though a longer moment to work out what it was. In the end it was the noise. Pemberley was quiet, other than the swish of soft shoes on hardwood floors or the clink of harnesses from the carriage house. This place – this painfully bright place – was a cacophony, which slowly worked its way into his consciousness. He finally peeled his sticky eyelids open, if only to see who was shouting, and was greeted with large windows with long slatted blinds letting clear sunshine into a room wrapped in a curtain.

There was no uncertainty then. A hospital. And the flash of the silent machine by his bedside and the television high on the wall above the window told him it was no Regency cottage hospital. He was back. The challenge had been completed, but left him with nothing but an empty ache instead of pleasure at a job well done.

He tried to shift, but his arms felt weak and the sudden raging alarm coming from the machine next to him made his head move sharply enough that he struck it against the metal of the bed frame, and he let out a pained moan. There were footsteps then, heavy and purposeful, and he was not stunned when the blue curtain around the bed was unceremoniously whooshed to the side.

"Octavius! Well, it's wonderful to see you awake."

He didn't recognise the woman, though she was clearly a doctor, right down to the stethoscope around her neck. On her heels, though, there was Sam, and Tav let out a sob that took him by surprise.

"Oh my, Tav, sweetie," they leaned in, pulling Tav into a hug that made his muscles scream, though he let it happen only because of the relief that washed over him to see his friend. Sam looked a little different, they must have had a haircut, and they'd gone for the green dye that they'd shied away from before because they worried about not getting taken seriously.

"Please, Sam," the doctor interrupted their reunion, "he still has a lot of recovery to do."

Sam reluctantly let him lay back, but they sat by the bedside and took Tav's hand, only letting go when the doctor tutted to be allowed closer to test Tav's reflexes.

"Well," she said, adding details to her tablet, "you're remarkably healthy for someone who's been in an unexplained coma for a week."

"A what?" Tav gaped.

"You collapsed. Sam here called an ambulance, but I'll be honest, we couldn't diagnose anything. We will, of course, run more diagnostics now you're awake. We have some of the best diagnostic technicians in the country here, so if there's something to be found, we'll find it."

She left them to it, and Tav slumped back onto the bed, in shock.

"You're going to be okay, Tav," Sam soothed, stroking his hand again.

"You're very touchy-feely?" Tav asked. Sam had always been conscious of social conventions and the importance of never making people uncomfortable with their presence. It wasn't necessary with Tav, obviously, but they'd trained themselves for so long it was second nature. This was new, but Sam tilted their head, as if confused at Tav's question.

"Anyway," they said, probably putting whatever it was down to, well, the coma, "I met someone."

"What?" Tav winced at how surprised he sounded. That wasn't fair. Sam was adorable. Very, very cute. But it would be no lie to say they didn't let people in easily, and Tav had never known them have anything more than the odd drunken make out session. But the tone when they'd said 'met' implied something a lot bigger than that.

"Yeah. It's early, I mean, it was-," they stopped, blushed, voice dropping with a coating of shame, "it was the day you collapsed. She was just moving into dorms. Eliza, her name is. And, well, I wasn't ready, you know." They leaned in, as if desperate to make sure Tav understood. "I was worried about you. The people at the hospital had basically kicked me out 'cause I'm not your next of kin. And, I don't know, she kind of made things feel like they would get better."

Tav thought about Darcy with a pang. "Yeah, I get it, Sammy. Don't, don't feel guilty, ya know? I'm glad you found someone who gets you."

"She does," Sam lit up, "she's amazing, it's some love at first sight shit, I tell you. It's gonna make you sick." They crowed, laughing and Tav felt bathed in their sudden, welcome happiness. But he couldn't help how empty it made him feel at the same time, even though he'd never tell Sam the news hurt so much.

"Hang on. What actually happened?"

"I have no idea. There was a storm that night, and the power went out. I came to your room to check on you, and you were passed out. Or in a coma or whatever, but we didn't know then. I called an ambulance and they ran a million tests. But they wouldn't really tell me anything. Luckily, your dad passed on everything."

"My dad? Is he here?"

"He couldn't, yet. He's gonna come, though. He had to get the money together for a ticket. He's been working double shifts all week."

"Damn, I have to call him, he's going to make himself sick."

Not for the first time, Tav was thankful Sam and his dad got on so well, even though they'd never met for real, only over video calls. In fact, his dad was going to be more shocked than Tav by Eliza, as he'd been pretty unsubtly sure there was something going on between the two of them since they met, and had always treated Sam like one of the family. And right now, his dad had bigger things to worry about, with a sick daughter – Tav's half-sister – and mounting medical bills.

Sam went to get them coffee and Tav phoned his dad, choking up when he heard the tears in his dad's voice. The man had really done nothing to deserve two mysteriously sick kids.

"How's Malia doing?" Tav asked once he'd convinced his dad that he genuinely felt fine.

"She's fine. Misses you though, something rotten."

"Has she been feeling better?"

"Better?"

There was something strange in his dad's voice, and Tav felt an unnerving feeling that the whole air in the room he was in dimmed, like a shadow had passed over the sun for a moment. It was too reminiscent of what he'd felt before, in the other place, that may or may not have been a coma dream. He sucked a breath in to bring himself back from how vile that made him feel, to give his dad his attention.

"She's healthy?" he asked, tentatively.

"As a horse, son. You know that. Well, obviously she's still got fibromyalgia, but she lives with it well. Actually, she's at her hydrotherapy session right now, or she'd be taking the phone right out of my hands."

Tav had to be careful, but he needed to know. "And, that's, um, affordable?"

"Are you sure you're okay, son? You seem a bit muddled."

"I'm okay. Er, the doctor said I should clarify things I already know, to check my mind hasn't been affected."

His dad paused but seemed to accept it after a moment. "Alright. Well, yes, it came from a referral, so it's all covered under the mental health act."

Tav took a breath, determined not to lose it. "And, last question I know the answer to. Who's the current president."

"Veronica Marshall, of course. Highest approval ratings in a decade, of course."

"Yeah, of course," Tav confirmed, just confirming everything he should already know. Of course.

Tav managed to make it through the rest of the conversation before claiming fatigue and his dad was quick to insist he rest. Though that was after Tav discovered the reason his dad was broke at the moment was he'd turned down a promotion at work, wanting to work part time so he could spend more time with Tav's stepmom and Malia, and they'd spent their current savings on a holiday of a lifetime to visit Tav in England just a few months ago. But that was okay because, despite his job being extremely secure, if the worst happened, the state would help them get back on their feet. Yeah, all that, and Tav was reeling.

"This is-," he grimaced as he accepted a coffee from Sam in a reusable go-cup. He put it down straight away, because he just could not deal. "This is fucking ridiculous."

"What's the matter?" Sam asked.

"A coma? Really?!"

Poor Sam looked beyond confused, but Tav was raging. After everything he'd been through... He'd changed the world, for Christ's sake. And he'd been brought back with a damn coma. Sure, he'd woken up thinking it was genuine, but now, no way. It was like some terrible soap opera story line, and now he was wondering if cheesy soap operas would even be a thing in this god damn utopia of free healthcare and reduced toxic masculinity. Because he knew for sure his family had not been to visit him in his own reality, and his dad had spent decades working his ass off in shitty low paying jobs trying to help his family, and most recently his daughter, who was in permanent, undiagnosed, pain, not casually worked part time in order to be a present, active father.