posted 1 year ago with 51 notes

"Richard, it’s time for your medication." Came the chirpy, falsely cheerful voice of the nurse as she entered his room at the hospital.

"It’s Jimmy." He grumbled, cringing at her dismissive gesture. He’d been trying to convince them for weeks of his real name, but no matter how much he insisted, the doctors and nurses would have none of it. It infuriated him, the way they cooed over him, poor little Richard Brook to them. He knew he was damaged, of course he did, he was constantly reminded of the fact by doctors, his surroundings and his inability to do several simple tasks. It made him was to shout and cry and just… burn everything. But he knew what his name was. His memories came back to him in clouded nonsensical bits and pieces. But his name was the one thing he knew from the moment he’d woken up, blearily blinking up at the too-bright hospital room, head pounding.

He stayed quiet though, despite his fury at his situation, he was fairly placid unless he got frustrated with himself or the subject of his name came up. He wasn’t sure why, but it seemed important to pretend to be normal, meek. An act was all it was. He may have been weak and useless at present, but he was by no means the frightened little invalid they thought him to be. He often found it hard to think, to push through the fog in his mind and do some things for himself, he may have been a little naive, but he wasn’t as pathetic as they thought. An act. He was good at acting, they’d told him that was his profession, but it didn’t feel right.

He spent his days sitting, staring out the window or at the telly. He was waiting. Waiting for someone. He wasn’t sure who. The nurses said he couldn’t leave until someone picked him up, so he waited impatiently for someone to take him away from that place.

When they told him they’d found someone to do just that. He gave them the first genuine smile he’d had since waking. Admittedly it had been a little odd, someone’s information, popping out of nowhere onto the computer, they said they’d missed it the first time around, Jimmy wasn’t so sure. Still, he was glad of the possibility of meeting someone who might be able to help him. So when he found out that the man was coming soon, he spent his days staring, not at the window, but at the doorway, not sleeping, waiting for someone to walk through it and get him. After the third hour waiting, on the forth day he drifted off, still sitting up in bed, he dreamt of tigers and fairy tales.