Oopsies....[open]

The figure whom Matt could not identify moved quickly, her actions unknown to the nearly blind boy. He heard her light footfalls dart away, as if she were frightened by his appearance. Matt mused to himself, but couldn't deny the sadness that roused within his chest. Even at the hospital, he wasn't really liked.

However, the girl...or... someone else reappeared, maneuvering behind Matt, which made him worry. What were they doing? He felt some object press against his supporting arm, which he retracted as he leaned forward. Though, his action was stopped as a hand, gentle and barely present, clasped his shoulder. As this happened, another hand gripped his own. Matthew tensed. He did not like physical contact. In all 17 years of his life, he could never get used to the sense of touch. He did not like being touched, nor did he like touching. He did not like being carried, handled, or moved. Perhaps it was because Matt had a lack of control in his life. Whatever the reason, he did not appreciate the grasp.

However, Matt did not say such. He was forcefully laid back onto his pillow, though the person was very gentle. He couldn't help but notice that he was elevated much more than the last time he had been leaning back. Someone must have propped something up. How kind... Even though this person was indeed touching him, he wasn't angry or upset. They were doing it out of kindness and care for him. These were things that he rarely received, so he allowed his comfort to be sacrificed for the caring gesture.

Then he realized that this was all still... still... that girl. Matt was absolutely terrible with names. Haylee? was that it? No... Matt's lips pursed slightly as he battled the nausea to think. What had she told him? Anna? No... The blond blinked as he say the figure so close. What he could deduce was that her skin was a lot darker than his. Her hair was a darker color as well... some shade of brown. The details of her face however, were still unknown and blurred.

The girl then politely told him to shush and reared the statement by asking him a question. Matt blinked twice at her before his lips pulled into a small smile. Now, how was he supposed to respond to that? Well, he knew how, but still. He could probably use his iron pills; after all, he didn't know how long he had been out. What if he was low? But.. at school, he definitely had taken his medication. Were they not strong enough anymore? Even so, he didn't want her to call a nurse. Even if he had fainted in front of his class and been reduced to a pale boy in a hospital bed, he still had pride within him. That masculine pride prevented him from calling for a doctor at this moment. He was a big boy. Maybe he couldn't take care of himself right now, but he'd sure as heck try.

Anyhow, Anne's (whatever, her name currently eluded his mind) ramblings amused him. Even if he felt sick to his stomach, her efforts had made him feel a smidget better. Laying back helped sooth the dizzy spells. But, what he could ask, would clarify a few questions. "Heh, could I have my glasses?" he inquired, wondering if they had fallen off his face when he passed out. He hoped not, but it was possible. Little did he know that his spectacles sat on the bedside table, invisible in Matt's poor eyesight.

Matthew allowed a small smile to appear as the female eagerly agreed to find his glasses. A brief moment settled as the female searched around the perimeter. She seemed to find them as her blur of an outline lurched one way, then back over to him. He squinted at the outstretched fingers, tentatively reaching out to brush the ocular devices. He gently took them from her, fingering the wire frames in his palms in a way that made it easier for him to slip them onto his head. However, he discovered that he didn't need to do such a thing. Annie.. or something, had done it for him. He smiled at her kindness before pushing the spectacles up onto the bridge of his nose.

Then everything snapped into focus.

Blinking wildly, Matt flashed his gaze around the room, everything now clarified. The blurry white wall was in fact a white cabinet, filled with shelves, drawers and openings. The bed, the one he barely took note of before, was white with a few thin blankets piled over him for warmth. A silver railing was pulled up on all four sides, keeping him in place in case he decided to make a break for it. Several monitors were also noticed, monitoring some for of vital sign that he had. Lastly, an IV stuck out of his left arm. How he had not noticed it before was beyond him. Man, he must have been in pretty rough shape.

But, Matt's attention to the room vaporized when he finally set sights on the girl. Her dark form now sharp and clear, Matt almost gasped. The girl had rich chocolate hair, collected into two pigtails tied with vivid red ribbons. Matching her hair was mocha kissed skin, tanned by the sun like a toasted marshmallow. Her brown eyes watched his as Matt couldn't help but stare. Even in the context of her baggier hospital clothing, he noticed how abnormally thin she was. Matt had seen thin people. He was not exactly chubby himself. But her? Something was not right. She was too thin. Her bones were visible, her skin tight against the skeletal structure. Matt blinked in wonder. Was that her reason to be in the hospital? Or was the thinness a side-effect to another illness that she had? Was she previously in a coma? That could be legit. Matt wasn't sure, and he figured it impolite to ask. But, one thing was for sure. He remembered her name upon seeing her. Aimee.

The last thing that he noticed was the blood smear on her hand. The red liquid, so precious in Mattie's eyes, was dried. Which meant, she had cut or injured herself a little while ago, probably before she came in here. Still, Matt could help but want her to clean and cover it. Blood was precious, and infections in hospitals were deadly. But he finally decided to respond to her previous questions and statements. "I'll be okay. This is nothing new. And you....your hand..." he said, trailing off as his blue gaze drifted to her arm.

Well, Matt's statement directed the conversation away from him, but he couldn't help but think that his words about himself were only partially true. Matt was well aware of his limitations that he had exceeded today, but this was different. He had never gotten so sick so fast before. Yes he had anemia, but it wasn't normal to just go unconscious like that. The boy shifted slightly, earning a new wave of nausea that eliminated any color that had come to his face when he identified Aimee. He struggled, but kept the pleasant look on his face. He wanted to say that he was fine, not make her worry or crease her brow any further, but he feared that his voice would give away his internal weakness. He did not need a doctor, but he really did appreciate her company, even if it didn't seem so. Matt decided that he should say this to her somehow.

But... How? Matt wasn't exactly a whiz with words. Most of the time, he hardly said anything, But now, in a one on one conversation, he had the opportunity to use his rarely used vocal chords. What sounded casual? 'Thanks for being with me?' NO! That sounded like... like... no. He could not say that! Um... what about 'Thanks for staying with me?' Er, no. It still didn't fit. Matt pondered a moment more, finally coming up with the right line. 'Thanks for taking care of me'. It was considerate, casual, polite. Yes, it was perfect. He opened his mouth to say the planned phrase, but shut it as she spoke once more. He smiled and nodded, color weakly perking in his cheeks and he glanced away in embarrassment. 'Idiot,' he internally cursed towards himself.

Aimee seemed to find Matt's awkwardness amusing. Here she stood, grinning wildly at him as he mentally squirmed. He wanted to just hide from her! She just stared at him with the big brown eyes! They never faltered! Never weakened! Matt was used to people going silent around him, but not like this. It was like they were still engaged in conversation, though silent. She, though unknowingly, had him wrapped around her finger. He wasn't used to the outgoing type and he really didn't know what to do.

All Matt's friends (which were not numerous), were like him. Antisocial. Quiet. Shy. Outcasts. Yes he was aware of the other types of people out there. He'd seen the preps, the jocks, and even the 'popular' kids, but had he spoken to them? Not really. Even the nerds were more social than he was. The most speaking that Matt ever accomplished in front of people were during presentations. Even then, people would chatter and whine, stating that they couldn't hear him. It was an embarrassment to read aloud, so Matt never did.

Aimee was the first person that had struck up a conversation with Matt in a long, long time. And as awkward as it was, the boy could feel a little peace resting. He had felt invisible before. Like he would literally fade away. He went unnoticed every day of his life, even by his parents. Parents... did they know he was here? They must have. The hospital or school would have phoned them. But waking up without them here was disappointing. However, Aimee lessoned that. In about five minutes, she had paid more attention to him than anyone in school had for the past year. Even if he hated hospitals, her company was a gift.

Aimee's laughter broke his sappy thought train, as she watched him speak with content. Did she enjoy watching him speak? He was actually surprised that she could hear him clearly. Most people did not.

She leaved back slightly, removing her hands from Mattie's 'cage' bars to clap them together quietly, but eagerly. She opened her mouth to reply, but was interrupted. Matt's gaze peeled away from her to the man who entered. A whitecoat, aka, Doctor.

Matt's first reaction was to tense up, which he did. His eyes that were always finding the floor, now were locked on the young man. He couldn't be that old, not that it mattered. In fact, it made Mattie feel a tad better knowing the Doctor wasn't too far from his age. He had dark ebony hair and deep brown eyes. Though the doctor's coat was baggy, it was still noticeable that the man was thin. He had said something that Matt didn't understand, earning a look of confusion as Aimee responded.

The girl seemed to know the man comfortably, as she casually chatted with him. Normal people would talk about themselves, but Aimee just had to include Matt. The blond broke his stare at the doctor, turning his head the opposite way. He clenched his hands in the blanket that pooled around his waist. He didn't exactly know why he was so uptight/upset, but he was. Why was Aimee... he looked back, eyes low as curls shielded his forward. His eyes were on Aimee once more. Was he upset that this doctor came in, because he discovered Aimee? Once more, Matt wasn't sure what was wrong with her, but it was probably serious. This doctor was probably going to send her back. And Matt was enjoying her company. He battled his stomach sickness and sat up shakily, proving that he was alright. He looked over at the girl, forcing a smile.

[Sorry for the shortness. And you're quite welcome here Dr. Honda =) ]

Matt glanced at Aimee, eyes slightly guarded as she warned him to take breaths. She didn't understand. Yes, Matt's little act was childish and stubborn, but he was doing it so they could continue to visit. Deep down, Matt was well aware of how much he needed a doctor. Yet here he was, trying to trick one away. Dr. Honda however, saw right through everything. Matt's mood soured as he was treated like a toddler. A small, defiant part inside him told him to continue the act just to defy the man, but Matt slowly obeyed. With control (and defeat), the blond silently and slowly released the pent up Carbon Dioxide from his lungs. The color in his face faded, but a slight red hue lingered. This was not do to the holding of his breath. The flushed color was because Matt felt terribly embarrassed to be so easily caught by not one, but both people in the room. He looked away, shoulders tense. He just wanted to hide. Flee. Get out of here.

“Are you feeling alright?”

Matt didn't respond physically, continuing to look away and avoid eye contact. 'Do I look fine? I am in a hospital...' Matt thought, mood still sore from the previous turn in events. Though, he knew he couldn't say that. His personality as well as his wisdom held back his tongue. Regardless, he felt himself slowly roll back. He had sat up earlier, and without the defiant side of him kicking in, he was unable to hold himself up. Similar to how he had actually landed in this hospital. That small, defiant piece pushing him to compete in the laps in gym. When no one noticed, that edgy persona slipped and he passed out. And here, where that same emotion faded, his strength did too.

Of course, he didn't fall this time. Just slowly rocked back onto the propped pillows. Still keeping both eyes firmly glued to the bottom right corner of his eyes (in his sights, the floor beside his bed), he debated the offer. The doctors words didn't exactly make sense. A painkiller for nausea? He was sure there was something that could lift his queasiness, but painkillers? To lift this nausea spell, he'd need a strong one. And in the past, he had seen the effect of painkillers on a person. While in Canada, his cousin had gotten hit by a car when on a snowmobile. His cousin broke his leg in 8 places, as well as his collarbone and was heavily medicated. The things that spewed from his mouth were really out there. If Aimee was to stick around after Matt was injected, he could not control what he'd say. In fact, he wouldn't even remember anything of it! Matt would take his chances.

Then this doctor tried to 'sooth' him by telling him that... he was getting... a blood transfusion. Matt's focused gaze broke, snapping to the doctors, before lowing to his IV. Not that he had paid attention before, but he thought it was a general Isotonic solution that would keep him hydrated, not blood! Matt had never had a transfusion! He had just had blood taken once by some amateur doctor and was slapped with the label 'Anemiac' and given iron. Matt was dumbstruck. In fact, so surprised that he quietly (as he was always quiet) blurted out,

"...What?"

Matt never blurted out of turn. But the silence that had fell perhaps suggested that it was his turn to speak. Regardless, Matt always thought before speaking. always planned his steps before taking one. He realized after how ridiculous the question was, but his eyes remained on the needle furrowed in his skin. Someone else's blood was being placed within him? What... This wasn't... What about... the iron... Matt blinked, swallowing the information. Was he even an anemiac? He shifted his gaze away, staring down at the covers in front of him. He didn't want to talk anymore, at least, right now. He wanted to know exactly what was going on.

[Ugh, post-o-fail. And technically, at this point in Mattie's illness, he probably would be alive. Let's just say he's a rare/lucky victim. And good luck~!]

[I'll go now since this post seems to be directed towards me]

“You have aplastic or really severe hypoplastic anemia.”

But... what did that mean?! Matt wanted clear, precise answers, those that Dr. Honda instantly replied with.

“That means the bone marrow doesn't regenerate the red blood cells. The only way to treat it is blood transfusions or a bone marrow transplant."

The rest of the info washed over Matt, like a wave going over a rock. He really didn't care that much about the other types of anemia. Sure, he had googled them before, but not to the extent of being a doctor, nor did he have the types memorized. But the meaning sounded so familiar. In fact, the words seemed to cause Matt's insides to turn cold. Aplastic anemia.... Aside from Sickle Cell anemia, where the blood cells were irregularly shaped and damaged organs from the inside, aplastic anemia was definitely one of the more sever types. And from the sounds of Dr. Honda's summery of it, iron did diddly squat. So essentially, Matt had been going untreated with a sever disease for an extensive amount of time. As well, the iron that he took could have built up and acted against him.

Matt's face paled. It was fortunate that he was already sprawled back on the pillows. Had he been sitting up or dancing, he would have fallen. He merely stared at the doctor, mortified. "N-no..." he whispered to answer his question. He had never actually been informed. He was just told that he had anemia. Simply anemia. Nothing... serious. Nothing life threatening. What if... what if he died?! What if it was too late for treatment?!

Matt's breath caught as the doctor put forth another question. His mouth went dry as he thought briefly about it. He had to tally up the months and such, put as he raised his wide eyes to the whitecoat, he barely was able to say, "Three years..."

The look on the whitecoat's face made Matthew's stomach churn. It was not a look of good measures. It was a look of shock, possibly horror. Mon Dieu, Matthew thought to himself, snapping two wide eyes down. His hands found each other as he began to intertwine them and unlace them. Twiddling thumbs, clasping his fingers, anything. He focused on a different motion to ease his worry. But the doctor seemed optimistic. He told Matt that he'd be okay. Even if his anemia had gone on this long, he'd be okay. Matt looked up through his thick lenses at the man. Was this the truth? Matt held his gaze for a long time, searching those dark brown eyes for a hint of betrayal. The man was reserved, but he didn't seem fake. And he didn't seem to sugarcoat it. He laid out the facts, plain as day.

And as much as the bone marrow transplant scared Matt, Dr. Honda didn't state he'd be getting one for sure. Matt didn't know why, but he felt a growing trust. This man knew what he was doing. Like, spot on the nose. Matt's trust in doctor's wasn't exactly stable, but this Japanese man was the closest that Matt had ever got. Dr. Honda, for just dipping in, clarified most, if not all of Matt's questions.

And then he talked about Matt's 'real' doctor. Dr. Honda wasn't his specified doctor? Matthew's spirits sank. So, he'd be paired with someone else? Matt broke eye contact once again. "O..oui..." he uttered, voice barely more audible than a whisper. Why was he feeling down? Surely there were other perfectly qualified people here that could help, right? What was it about this man? Was it the fact that he was the first to lay out all the cards on the table? Was it because he was closer to Matt's and Aimee's age in comparison to most of these men? Matt couldn't pinpoint it. Dr. Honda may have been...what was the word... blunt, but Matt felt... très détendu avec cet homme. Matt blinked, realizing that he was going off the English Tangent in his mind, something he tended to do when lost in thought. He tried to shake the thoughts, return to the world around him.

There was one more question lingering in Matt's head. 'How long do I have?' or, 'What are my chances?'

It would be very difficult to answer that, if the doctor was ever permitted to say such things. As well, Aimee was here. Matt wouldn't ask, just due to the fact that the girl might be bothered if Matt's chances weren't high. Doctor Honda said Matt would get better, but the Canadian was not stupid. There was always a chance that they would not survive. Always. But the boy would refrain and hold the inquiry for another time. Right now, he just sat stone still, watching the people around him in silence.

[Background music]

Matt was rather oblivious to Kiku's small action as silence enveloped the room. But Matt's mind was anything but quiet. 'What if I die? I'm only a kid! I've never seen a live polar bear! I've never been to Nunavut. I... I.... what if.... I die?'

A weight sat on Matt's chest, making it hard to breathe. Was he panicking? Probably. The boy closed his eyes, locking away his surroundings as his vision went black. He had to calm himself, respectively. He made a big enough idiot of himself today. He didn't want to embarrass himself further. He clicked his jaw together and clenched until it ached, clearing his head. Pain always seemed to work.

Slowly releasing the tension, Matt tried to settle his inner conflicts. Opening his eyes, he looked over at the doctor and the girl who took it up on herself to help him. He held their gazes for a while, switching between them every few seconds, before letting his mauve eyes fall to his lap. Doctor Honda was just a medical professional and Matt was just another patient. That relationship was practically spelled out. Aimee however, was here on her own free will, trying to make conversation with Matt. and even if he were just a replacement for some friend she had, it was nice. Nice to have someone care. Matt met her brown eyes once more, a silent appreciation softening his gaze. It was the movement at Matt's side that startled him.

Matt turned a little to quick to see the dark-haired man nearby, pricking Matt's unease. Such a silly thing he felt. This doctor, though he was a whitecoat, was clearly trying to help in some way. Or... Matt hoped. Matt paused, considering asking him but he refrained. Aimee was nearby. If the percent of survival was low, it might upset her (Matt could hope that she'd care enough to actually be upset). Matt had a feeling that he wasn't... that he would... well, that his chances were reduced because he had gone so long with the untreated illness. Three long years... Dr. Honda's voice brought Matt out of another memory relapse.

Doctor, here to help. Matt broke eye contact. He didn't trust doctors. He didn't trust Kiku. He kept his eyes down as he quietly said, "Could I have some water?" After being so dreary, Matt looked to see Aimee caught up in this mess of things. Well, his secret 'illness' was out of the bag, and i still didn't seem right to ask of hers, so Matt merely offered a small smile, trying to look a step above depressed.

[Another post-o-fail. Sorry]