Snippet #1341745

And he heard words.

But his brain cells had suddenly become so involved with shutting down and shutting up that they entered slurred and unheard. They were crapping out and he knew that eventually he would end up lost in a world of his own dreams permanently. Not that he would ever be able to tell because he'd think he was awake and living. He'd dream of family vacations, beach days, school and trips. He'd dream he got better due to some miraculous change of events and left with his family to somewhere new where they could all be together. His entire life would play out before his eyes while his body lay dormant and unresponsive to the world kept alive only through tubes and machines. His family would have to watch as he slowly faded away and have to make that decision to keep him alive or pull the plug. Kill him with the simple flick of a switch.

He didn't want that though - no one would ever want that. Being so close to being awake made him want to push farther and harder to be with them and among them. Breathing, beating, pulsing, living, trying, dying. All of it he wanted to do not with his eyes wide shut but with them wide open. Vivianne wanted to join reality and accept that physics, science, math, history; all existed. His body wanted to experience movement and his skin wanted to tingle and his hands wanted to touch. He wanted to speak, react, detach. But he felt shackled because his brain was the chemistry source of all nervous movement and without it he was powerless to fight, to move, to live. He could feel the sweet taste of fantasy spike his tongue and he wanted to fall into lapse and let it cast it's spell on him but his brother needed his help to calm down.

Because he lived for him.

A single frantic jolt from his heart brought air to his lips and they parted; fight won. He could grip his fingers into fists and wiggle his toes under the sheet; he felt he could jump out of the bed and just be healthy again. It was funny; how important the tiniest movements were to him. The ability to move the smallest parts of his body to do things he wanted - the ability to control himself. The ability to feel the horrible cotton beneath and above his hospital robbed skin. There wasn't a time Vivianne felt he had felt more fantastic because if he was able to win a fight over the control center of his entire life he was able to do anything. He could open his eyes, he would open his eyes. He did. And at first it was all bright lights blaring down on him with a vengeance. Burning, searing, charring light blaring down into his eyes as if blinding or trying to head in that general direction of sense removal. So he blinked; once, twice. Reveling in the action because he could do it once again. It scared him knowing that every time he fell asleep the chances of waking up again grew slimmer and slimmer. He would bask in the glory of being able to do it once more.

Until he managed to get himself into a seated position and saw what was happening on the floor. Because if there was one thing that tore at him more than never waking up again it was fighting. The absolute violence and darkness that tainted and roamed in the air near a fight zone was so horrifying he shut himself away from it. To see his brother poised to punch someone who had entered the room made him physically sick. "Stop!" he cried his voice horse and not very powerful. He felt he was going to cry; Finnian wasn't supposed to get hurt fighting. It would rip Vivianne to shreds.

Because you should know I live for you.