This was the day. Tarin was nervous in spite of himself, but then again it was nice to feel anything after a month of almost complete numbness. It was getting worse too, he wasn't frustrated nearly as often now, a kind of strange apathy had settled on him. It worried Tarin. It worried, him and he knew that he needed to try...now.

Lee had set up another meeting with the boy wonder. Tarin knew that they'd been talking , a lot, and frankly the kid was something else. Tarin had seen the wisdom in some of his words and he planned on talking to Lee about it when he woke up. That was the spirit...when was such a better word than if. So what if he hadn't managed to make the mental connection with anyone since the spirit at the top of the empire state building had taught him what to do. Something felt different though when he tried...and this Slate character was supposed to be some sort of psychic...he could reset brains after all. That had to count for something, didn't it?

It was his birthday and Lee was there. Lee was always there. This was diffrent though, she'd brought her guitar down from her room and she was playing for him. Tarin had watched her all morning, the music was comforting, it helped him concentrate. Concentration was good, Tarin was going to need all the luck and concentration he could get in order to come back to her...and if this didn't work, he didn't know what would. The body in the bed was kind of starting to waste away, and Tarin couldn't blame it. It had been laying in the same place, not moving, for a month now. This had to work.

The boy wonder arrived, greeted Lee and engaged in small talk for a few moments.Then it looked like he was ready to get down to business. Tarin was tense, tense as hell, but he forced it away, trying to do anything he could to increase his concentration. This was the time.

((ooc: Slight note: Slate does not know that he's a telepath yet, so it's unlikely that Tarin knows. This will be a power growth thread for Slate, where he starts to realize his potential.

Continued from Change.))

The preparations were complete, and the plane ticket bought. Soon, Slate would be leaving for South America, with an inconspicuous fleet of little gray birds behind him. There was still a matter to take care of in New York, though, before he went.

Slate arrived at the Mansion's infirmary promptly, and slightly ahead of the agreed meeting time. He would in no way be surprised to find Lee Brooks already present and waiting for him. Her husband lay on the bed, unmoved from when Slate had last visited, though perhaps looking a bit less well. An extended coma will do that to a man.

Small talk not being his forte, they quickly found themselves coming to the point.

"Please be aware that this is a long shot, Lee," Slate cautioned. "It is something I have only ever done with my brother. If it does work, though..." Well, then they would see. As Slate had explained on the phone prior to his coming, he was going to try things from a somewhat different route. Seeing as Tarin Brook's mind was absent... Slate was going to attempt to contact said mind directly. He could do it with Calley; he did it on a daily basis, in fact. He had never attempted it with anyone else, however. Had never even thought to.

This was not true, actually: he had done it once, with a hobo. Except... he did not actually know if that had succeeded or not. That man had been confusing, right up until the end.

Slate stood again at Tarin's bedside, as he had so many weeks before. Again, he reached out a hand to touch the man's face. The void that existed there was tangible, to Slate: here lay the body of Tarin Brooks, and nothing more.

He took in a breath, and let it out. Cleared his mind. And then, as he had done so many times before with Calley, he 'pitched' his thoughts; the body before him was the focus.

...Mr Brooks? Slate asked, quite simply, and with a trace of hesitance not usually found in his spoken words.

((ooc: To 'reset' your mind, as it were, Slate and Tarin's spirit will have to be in physical contact. Try to set things up to that, if you can! Getting them on the same side of the table and such would be quite convenient. If I need to edit anything, PM me!))

(OOC - I'll edit...Tarin's thinking more in general though. He said he could reset peoples' minds, so Tarin's calling him a telepath. Psychic would probably be a better word.)

The boy ddin't waste any time. Tarin didn't blame him though. This was a nasty business, especially since he didn't seem to think that there was much chance of this working. Tarin watched intently as the boy moved to his bedside and put a hand on his head. Nothing happened, not immediately. Tarin realized he wasn't trying anything though, he was just watching the boy work like a bystander.

It took effort to make the link work this way, Tarin knew that though. Proximity helped, it was true with the spirits when he was in his body and he assumed it would be true in this form too. Moving from where he'd propped himself up against the wall of the infirmary room, Tarin moved next to Slate and focused on him.

Tarin closed his eyes and looked, looked for the life forces of the people in the room with them. Just like the spirit had said, it was a conscious effort, reaching out...and there they were. Lee was there, pulsing form her spot next to the bed, he reached out to her but it was like there was some kind of brick wall blocking the way to her mind. On to Slate, Tarin went, reaching out and looking. It was different than with Lee, this time, it was like the door was open.

Mr Brooks

Tarin was shocked by the contact, he could feel it then, the link. It was just like when he connected with a spirit. That had to mean that he wasn't connecting with spirits at all...it was the other way around...he could just control how open his mind was. Time to try, afraind to talk and break his concentration Tarin tried something else the spirits did, sending mental pictures of what exactly it was that had happened to him that night in the graveyard.

Worried that the pictures weren't enough, or that they weren't working, Tarin decided to try verbal conversation as well, "Hello?!" he ventured, startled by the sound of his own voice after so long silent. "Can you hear me? If you can...try your thing with me...not my body. I...I'm right next to you...to your right."

(OOC - Okay, I gave you a few things to work with here. Take it where you want to take it. If you want to hear AND see...do it...if you just want to do one or the other...go for it. Just assume that if all you see is pictures, you saw something to help you out.)

((ooc: Context--this post was written after the posts following it; as such, it’s going to span a bit of time.))

At first, there was no response. Both he and Lee saw the same thing: absolutely nothing. It was what all of his attempts thus far had yielded. Unfortunate, but not unexp—

The images washed over his mind, until his own consciousness was near to drowning. A black night. A graveyard. A man whose breath wheezed when he shouted. Slate’s mind reeled to find his own thoughts, the images his own eyes had seen, in the wake of that transmittance.

And then came the voice.

>> "Hello?! Can you hear me? If you can...try your thing with me...not my body. I...I'm right next to you...to your right."

Tarin was only the third person that Slate had ever telepathically connected with. He was only the second who had spoken back. The other was Calley. It was distinctly unsettling to feel the thoughts in his mind, in a voice other than his own; jarring and disturbing his own thoughts from their rightful places.

I… yes, he managed, as soon as he could; I can hear you. I… will try. Try what, exactly? He did not clarify, because he was not sure, himself. Try to heal a man whose consciousness was invisible? He said he was to Slate’s right. It was a start. Tentatively, Slate reached out his hand in that direction. Blindly.

He knew the precise moment he ‘touched’ the man. It was the same moment that he lost himself again. The images from the graveyard were back; as were other thoughts, and images. It was the man’s birthday. He had not known that. Nor would he know it, the moment this contact was broken. It was something he had learned during his take-over of the Kabal: while he was in a person’s mind, his access was nearly unlimited. If one wished to phrase it that way. It felt more like a mental bludgeoning, and he was not the one on the giving end. Once the contact was broken, however, he would not remember what he had seen; a person’s memories were their own, and not his.

It took a force of will to steady his own mind within the man’s own, and remember why he was there; what had been asked of him. This, too, was something he had practiced, upon every mind in Mondragon Labs. It was easier now than it had been.

Once he had steadied himself, the actual healing was the matter of a mere moment. He did not know what was wrong with the man. The fact that he was healing a man who he could not see while the same man was laying soulless on a bed before him spoke very loudly of that. At the root, however, Slate’s healing was not a set of watchmaker’s tools; it was a sledgehammer. He had the same cure for everything. Slate ‘reset’ the man, as it were.

It worked. The man’s consciousness left Slate’s side; a touch to the hand on the bed in front of him confirmed things: Tarin was back where he was supposed to be. Slate’s mouth opened as he turned towards Lee, lips twitching into a small smile.

He never got the chance to speak. Tarin’s pulse began to crash. The DocProf was there suddenly, pushing him out of the way. Flat line.

Tarin Brooks had flat lined.

Slate stood numbly where he had been shoved, his eyes on the crash cart and the Doc Prof and the man’s body—his dead body—and Lee. Crying.

It took him a long moment to realize that the monitor had stopped shrilling.

That Tarin Brooks had a heartbeat again.

That he was speaking. And… and thanking Slate; defending him from the DocProf. A slight tremor went through Slate’s arm. The man was alive. Tarin Brooks was alive.

But it was not because of him.

Slate watched the reunion between Lee and her husband, but not for long. He politely excused himself around the time the DocProf went for ice chips; he did not think they noticed. The DocProf did, however, and his cold stare did not invite Slate back again.

The brown haired teenager made it to the front steps outside before he had to sit down. The shaking in his arms had spread to his legs. Small tremors, barely noticeable.

This was even worse than failing to heal someone. He had healed Tarin Brooks to die. If the DocProf had not been there, Slate’s own mutation would have been no use in restarting the man’s heart. And he, unlike the DocProf, had no training in things like crash carts and medical procedures. He was a novice who had been experimenting with the brazenness of a master. There was a word for that.

Dangerous.

Slate’s healing was a danger, while he did not understand it. He was playing with the lives of coma patients, when he could not even perform basic first aid to save his own life.

He left soon for Colombia. He had been planning to go alone; the Kabal members had their orders, but they would not overlap with Slate’s own mission. His own mission had involved playing healer. Playing; that’s really what he’d been doing, wasn’t it? He was playing with peoples lives. It was one thing when he had taken over the Kabal: he had known what he was doing, and the blood on his hands had been accepted before it ever stained them. But this? He was like a child in a play pen full of glass; he did not understand what he was doing. Yet he had committed too much to this plan to go another route. He needed help. He needed a teacher. More than anything, he needed someone to be there if and when he failed like this again. He would not have deaths on his hands, when he had meant to save lives.

Slate pulled out a thin cell phone from his pocket. Standard fare, for a teenager. The number he dialed connected him to the Mondragon Labs front desk. A woman picked up. Not Noin Mortman, but one of his other employees. Slate composed himself before he spoke.

“Could you please contact Sebastian Csendes for me?” He asked simply, knowing that his voice would be recognized. “You should be able to contact him through the Sanctuary. Please tell him that I am taking a business trip, and that I would like it very much if he would accompany me.”

The cell phone shut with a click. Slate stood up again, and continued walking. He was the Kabal’s Leader. He was not allowed to sit around, indulging in his own shock. Above all, he was not allowed to make mistakes. Colombia would proceed as planned.

Happy Birthday, Tarin Brooks.

---

((ooc: Original filler post, put up at Tarin's request. ))

And lo, there was a mental connection the likes of which one could not do with mere roast beef; and Slate did realize that Tarin was ALIVE. And he did do his mental reset thing. And the clouds did part, and the angels did sing, as Tarin's soul reunited with his manly body.

Let there be consciousness.

And there was.

OOC - The beginning of this post shall be vague for the time being...but will be edited when the post before it is spruced up.

The kid had heard him! It had worked. For the umpteenth time since he'd arrived in New York Tarin made a mental vow to find something nice he could do for the spirit at the top of the Empire State Building. Slate confirmed that indeed he was there, and Tarin confirmed that yes...he should do his thing. From there, it all moved so fast. There was a moment for confirmation of readiness, some exclamations of excitement from Tarin, and then it was happening.

The chaos that had been there when he pulled himself away from his body wasn't there this time, but the same surreal feeling was present. Tarin could feel a pull, a pull that he gave himself over to completely, allowing the boy in the room with him and Lee to do that thing he did. The last thing he saw was Lee standing in the room. "I love you..." he said, looking right at her, and then, for a moment there was nothing.

The body on the bed had been there for a long time. To the average person, a month wasn't that long at all, but a body laying without a soul for a month was a long time. A very long time. The mind reset, and as hoped it flowed back into the body on the bed. The body, however, hadn't been asked if it was ready and it wasn't.

The heart monitor that had been steadily beeping since the nodes had been placed on Tarin's body a month ago stuttered and beeped irregularly as the mind and body tried to reconnect after such a long separation. Something was wrong. Alarms started going off and the body on the bed convulsed, the most movement there had been in a month, but it wasn't good movement. The convulsion continued for another moment, the heart monitor beeped wildly, then a solid tone.

At the sound of the first alarm, Doc Prof had come running from the office where he'd sat during all of these visits. So far the kid had managed to do nothing more to help than he'd been able to do himself. So slowly he'd retreated into his office. Then there was the alarm, Doc had arrived just in time to see the patient in the bed register a flatline.

"What did you do to him?!" Doc Yelled, then, "Get out of the way!" There was a crash cart in the room with the prone man and though Doc had to think back to medical school to remember the last time he'd actually used it, he pulled it towards himself, ignoring everything else going on around him.

Out of the holders came the paddles, on the system went and it started charging at 200 volts. There was no need to say clear, everyone had backed away from the yelling as he came into the room. Shock. The monitor beeped, then flatlined again. Up to 250 the machine went. "Come on" Doc muttered as he put the paddles to Tarin's chest again, "You've been laying here for a month...don't die now." The machine was recharged. Clear the Doc said mentally. Then the shock. Nothing...but then, the machine beeped on its own, then settled into a normal sinus rhythm and the Doc heaved a sigh of relief as he put the paddles back into their cradles and turned to the boy.

"I don't know what the hell you think you were doing...but you're done experimenting on my patient..."

"Doc..." Came a weak voice from the bed, "Don't be so hard on him...I think he just save my life...unless I'm dead...and if that's the case. This is a sorry excuse for either heaven or hell."

Tarin felt like shit. There was no other way to explain it. Just opening his eyes felt like running a marathon, so did taking a breath...but the key thing there was that those things felt he could feel again.

"Lee?" he said, pretty positive that he was too weak and unused to moving to turn his head, but hoping that his wife was there nonetheless.

It was Saturday. Normally, that wouldn't mean anything different for Lee. Or at least recently that wouldn't have meant anything different for her than any other day of the week.

The difference this time, this Saturday, was that Lee had been there at the mansion for a month. Had been sitting by Tarin's bedside as he lay in a coma, for a month. And to make things even worse, it was March 14th. One month and one day exactly since Tarin had been brought to the mansion.

Tarin's birthday.

That in itself automatically made the day so much worse than it already would have been. This was supposed to have been a happy day, a day they celebrated, maybe gone out for dinner and a movie, or possibly dancing, before returning home for the night, spending the whole evening together, and since it was the weekend, having no need to then leave the apartment until Monday morning to go open the shop.

But that was not to be, since Tarin was still laying in the hospital bed, with no more responsiveness than that very first night.

Slate was supposed to be coming down that day to try again. Lee was hopeful, apparently he had a new idea to try out, but the young man had tried a number of times already, all with no success. So she was hopeful, but not holding her breath.

Still, even if Tarin wasn't able to celebrate with her, it was still a special day, she had to do something for him. So while she was waiting for Slate to show up, Lee had decided to bring her guitar down to the infirmary and play for Tarin. He had always liked when she had played the guitar for him, and a number of the medical books and journals she had turned to after her first shot at research had fizzled said that coma patients were sometimes able to hear what was going on around them. Lee wasn't sure whether that was true in this case, to be completely honest, she wasn't sure whether she wanted it to be true or not, but she hoped that it would help.

So that's what Lee was doing, sitting in her chair beside Tarin's bed playing her guitar and singing softly when Slate walked in. Lee was startled at first, she'd gotten lost in the music again, but recovered herself quickly, setting the guitar to the side as she talked to Slate.

Who proceeded to tell her that while he had a new idea, a new route to take with trying to help Tarin, it was still a long shot. Lee simply nodded; ever since she had heard about this idea of his in the first place, she'd hoped it would work, but at the same time hadn't been expecting it to, depending on it working. There were just no certainties, no one really knew what exactly was going on, after all.

It really didn't take long for Slate to be ready, so Lee just stood back to watch and wait, nervously smoothing her skirt as she stood there. Tarin might not be conscious, but it was still his birthday, and Lee had felt the need to dress up. She wasn't dressed up compared to her regular standards, but compared to what she had been wearing since getting to the mansion it was. A long black skirt, not her satiny flowy skirt she wore to the bar, but was still dressier than what most people would consider to be casual. Well, it was a long skirt for her, meaning that it reached her knees. Paired with a red tank top, and a pair of simple heels. Immaculate and put together extremely well compared to the jeans, tanks, and sweaters she'd been wearing since getting to the mansion.

Nothing was happening. Nothing ever happened, Slate simply stood there by Tarin's bed, and Lee stood off to the side watching.

And then Lee heard a beeping alarm type sound. Jumping in surprise, Lee looked around to see what was causing the noise, but stopped and simply stared at Tarin as he started flopping around on the bed.

Then there was the solid tone of the flat line.

Lee's hands were covering her mouth as she stared at Tarin, at her husband. No, this simply couldn't be happening. He couldn't die, not now, not after he'd stayed there, lived this long in that bed.

Lee didn't even realize that she had collapsed and was now sitting on the floor. Didn't realize that she had tears streaming from her eyes as she stared at Tarin just feet away from her in the bed. Didn't consciously notice DocProf there trying to save him.

Tarin just couldn't die, couldn't leave her. Not like this.

Then Lee heard a beep. Followed by another beep. Blinking the tears out of her eyes, or at least trying to, Lee finally noticed DocProf stepping away from Tarin and speaking, she could only guess, to Slate.

The next thing Lee heard was the most wonderful sound in the world. The voice was quiet, it was hoarse and gravelly from not being used, but it was Tarin's voice. He was actually talking? He was awake?

Lee's heart felt like it had jumped into her throat, and she sobbed slightly as she gasped for breath, the tears starting once again. But she climbed back to her feet, stumbling only once on her way as she went back to Tarin's side.

"I'm here," Lee said, the tears clearly sounding in her voice. Not even bothering to wipe them from her face, Lee reached one hand out to grasp Tarin's, the other lightly touching his face. "I'm here, Tarin."

He was alive...he was awake...he was breathing and controlling his own body. Truth be told...it kind of sucked...scratch that, it really sucked. It hurt, alot. His lips were super dry and his throat hurt. It felt like he hadn't had a drink in...a month. Well that made sense...he hadn't...and part of the discomfort in his throat was the tube they'd stuck down his nose to feed him. Thinking about it made him choke slightly and Tarin lifted a hand and weakly batted at the thing only to have his hand drop limply back to the bed a moment later.

Lee had heard him, Lee was there, she was crying a lot. Suddenly there was nobody else in the room. Not even the Doctor who was trying to shine a light in his eyes and ask him questions. Screw his questions, screw them right in the ear. Lee was there and for the first time in a month she could feel it when her hand grasped his and when her other touched his face. Tarin leaned into Lee's hand on his face and smiled.

"Hi..." he said, wincing slightly at the effort it took to talk and the way that tube felt down his throat. He lifted his free hand again, clumsily trying to wipe at the tears on Lee's cheeks. "No tears...no more tears. You cried enough...what the hell is with all of this..." he said, gesturing at the tube and all the wires. "Can't swallow right...can I have some water?"

Yeah...there was definitely not anyone else left in the room...at least not as far as Tarin was concerned. He was frustrated though, he was so clumsy, so uncoordinated...so exhausted just from the few motions he'd made, Lee wast there though...touching him, and it was amazing. Worth it all. He tugged slightly at her hand, "Come here...stop crying...I want a birthday kiss..." If that didn't prove to Lee that he was going to be alright...nothing would.

Tarin's hand was swatting at his feeding tube. It was amazing to see him moving again, but at the same time it was horrible seeing how weak, slow, and feeble those movements were. But he was awake. That was the important thing.

"Hi..."

One little word. So simple, so strange in this kind of situation. And yet it was so them. Lee smiled, even laughed a bit through her tears, as she sat on the bed beside Tarin. DocProf was still there, trying to check Tarin out, but he was on the other side of the bed, had lots of room to move, so Lee ignored him.

"Hi..." Lee replied softly, the teary smile still on her face. Then Tarin was lifting his free hand again, but moving it all the way to her face, trying to wipe the tears away. Lee knew that he wasn't going to be successful at it; his weakness, his lack of coordination, Lee could feel those differences when he touched her face. Plus, there were so many more tears than there normally were when he tried to wipe them away. The lingering horror and fear from seeing him flat lining, and now the sheer joy and happiness of seeing Tarin awake and talking...the tears just didn't seem to want to stop as she looked down at her husband.

But Tarin was asking her to stop crying. Honestly, Lee wasn't sure if she could, the tears were simply falling of their own accord now, even as she was smiling at him. But he wanted her to stop, so she would try. Lifting her hand from Tarin's face, Lee started wiping the tears off her cheeks.

Water? Of course he wanted some water, he'd been unconscious, hadn't actually had anything to drink for a month. Nodding, Lee turned her eyes away from Tarin for the first time since Slate had started doing his thing. She had brought a water bottle down with her that morning, was there anything left in it?

Before she could grab the bottle, Tarin was tugging on her hand, asking her not to cry again, asking her for a birthday kiss. That was definitely Tarin, alright. Despite everything else, on of the first things he wanted was a birthday kiss.

Her smile widening through the few tears that just refused to leave, Lee nodded, then leaned down to lightly press her lips against Tarin's.

It was amazing feeling Tarin kissing her back like that, absolutely amazing after having him not moving or responding for so long.

Then Lee pulled back, a slight frown on her face, as she blinked down at Tarin. "How did you know it was your birthday?" She whispered. It was his birthday, but he'd just been in a coma for a month, how did he know what day it was?

For a whole month. "Oh, right," Lee mumbled, remembering that Tarin had asked for some water. Turning, she grabbed the bottle from the table beside his bed, then finally let go of his hand. If how his arms had moved was any indication, he was going to need help sitting up so he could take a sip. So she put her hand behind his shoulders, careful of all the wires and tubes connected to him. It was more difficult than she had been hoping, she was lifting more of his weight than she wanted to be, but the fact was it was still easier than lifting his dead weight to change his shirts had been.

"Slowly, not too much..." Lee told Tarin gently as she put the bottle to his lips and tilted it up so he could drink.

Lee said hi back and Tarin managed to smile slightly despite the fact that she couldn't seem to stop crying. It was almost painful for Tarin to see that, she'd cried so much over the past weeks. Tarin knew they were happy tears, but tears were tears and for someone who'd never really let go of control before, Lee was doing a great job now.

She was trying though, he'd told her to stop crying and she was doing her best to stop, but the tears seemed to be flowing freely. Slowly though, gradually, they slowed. Tarin supposed it was the best he could hope for now. It was almost as surreal as the first few hours out of his body had been, being able to control his body again. Then Lee agreed to the birthday kiss and there was a real smile. She leaned down and pressed her lips against his and Tarin kissed her back. Yeah...no matter how much he'd gotten used to being out of his body, this was what had been missing.

Then Lee asked the million dollar question and as she pulled away, Tarin smiled, an odd smile to be sure. Slightly sheepish, "Because I was standing there," he said, nodding his head to the wall by the head of the bed, "Watching you play and sing."

Lee had heard his water request and from somewhere she produced a bottle of water. Tarin was already trying to sit up, but it sure helped when Lee slipped her arm behind his shoulders. The water bottle was at his lips and he'd almost had his drink when...

"You can't have that yet!" Doc exclaimed, looking like he wanted to slap the bottle out of Lee's hands. Tarin gave him a fierce glare and took a little drink...just to show he could. It was amazing and he wanted more...lots more. "That's enough! We'll get you some ice chips...and stop glaring at me Tarin, you haven't had normal food or drink for a month and you'll be the one to regret it if you insist on going too fast." Then off he went, hopefully to get the ice chips.

"And when you're back, you're going to get this goddamn thing out of my nose." Tarin said, wrinkling his nose and clearing his throat again.

Tarin realized Lee was still holding him and he smiled at her, again, "Thanks for all the sponge baths." he said.

Tarin smiled when she asked about how he knew it was his birthday. That didn't make sense, why would he be smiling about something like that? Then he told her how he knew, that he'd been standing right by the bed all morning.

All Lee could do was blink at Tarin, trying to make that thought process through her mind. It was going very slowly, though, and before she had had a chance to fully realize what Tarin had said, what it meant, DocProf was advancing on them, angry that she was giving him some water.

So Lee lowered the bottle again. After Tarin had managed to get a tiny sip. The Doc was right, Tarin hadn't had anything normal to eat or drink in a month. But he'd had that feeding tube in, he'd been having stuff entering his stomach, and this was just water. Surely just a little bit, to help moisten his mouth and throat, wouldn't be that big a problem. Sure, maybe if he downed the whole bottle then and there, but Lee wasn't stupid, she wouldn't let Tarin do something like that.

But DocProf was leaving, Lee only hoped to get those ice chips or they were going to have even more problems than they'd already fought about. And since his back was turned, Lee gave Tarin another teeny tiny sip of water before setting the bottle back on the table.

"Thanks for all the sponge baths."

Lee sputtered. Lee blinked as she turned back to face Tarin. Then what might have been one of the strangest expressions ever crossed Lee's face: a smile, tears still streaming down her face, as a bright blush covered her cheeks.

Then Lee remembered what Tarin had said about how he knew it was his birthday, and she blinked at him again. "Thanks for the....You were standing over...?" Lee shook her head as she spoke, then looked Tarin directly in the eyes, easier to do since she was still helping him to sit up. She should probably do something about that, despite how long he had been out, he probably still needed to rest rather than straining to sit like this. But rather than doing anything about that at the moment, Lee just opened her mouth to speak again. "How is that possible, Tarin?"

Lee was in on it too. As the doc walked away she tipped a little more of the liquid amazingness into his mouth and Tarin let it trickle down his throat thinking that he would never again forsake water. Just because he was in Texas and had drank soda out of a sippy cup didn't mean he could have water. It had been too long since he'd given water the respect it deserved. Well no more! Water was amazing...water was the best...and apparently Lee was now done giving it to him.

Then something amazing happened. Tarin chalked it off to the fact that he was just coming out of a coma, but if he wasn't mistaken, which he was sure he was, he could have sworn that about 8 conflicting emotions crossed Lee's face at once. Apparently the coma hadn't limited all his abilities. He smiled again, especially at the blush. It was so good to see that, and know that he was responsible.

Then Lee spoke again, and she was serious, asking how it was possible that he saw all those things. Tarin knew he was going to have a lot of explaining to do, but he really was starting to feel exhausted. Tarin knew it would be just cruel to rest now after giving Lee that teaser.

"I was here...the whole time. Mostly with you." he said, looking right back into the eyes he'd been thinking about for the last however many hours. "I just couldn't do anything. We'll talk about it later...you wouldn't believe how much I have to tell you...I'm just glad I'm back.." he said, closing his eyes for a minute and taking a deep breath, "I was starting to think I'd never get back to you. It was horrible being with you, watching you and not being able to touch you."

It took effort, more than he really thought he had, but Tarin managed to get his arms up and around Lee and squeeze her for a few moments before they fell back, he was really tired. "I think I might need to rest now..." he said softly, "This body is so weak...."

At least Tarin was talking, explaining, but it didn't really help Lee understand. He had been laying in that bed, in a coma for a month, so how could he have been standing there? How could he have been watching her? With her but not able to touch her.

As he spoke, Lee saw Tarin's eyes closing. She could tell it was hard for him to talk to, but he also looked tired, worn.

She'd been worried that he wouldn't come back too, that he wouldn't wake up. That had probably been the hardest thing, since no one seemed to know what was going on with Tarin. That whole not knowing.

And then Lee felt Tarin's arms wrapping around her, pulling him closer to her, and Lee hugged him back, the tears starting fresh again. How many times over the last month had she wished for this, wanted to feel Tarin's arms around her, and now they were. Finally.

But he pulled back after a couple moments, or rather his arms simply fell away. "Yeah, that would probably be a good idea," Lee agreed softly as she helped Tarin lay back down in the bed, not wanting him to simply fall backward. "I'll be here when you wake up, and we'll talk more when you're feeling better."

Taking a breath, trying to stop from crying yet again, Lee wiped the tears from her face then leaned down to kiss Tarin. "I love you."

Lee agreed, it would be a good idea for him to get some rest. Did he look that bad? Tarin managed to chuckle slightly then choked slightly on the tube down his throat again, "This thing has got to go..." he muttered as Lee helped him lay back down. She was confused, he could see it written all over his face, but he was simply too tired to explain anymore today. It would have to wait.

He sank back into the pillows and moved his arms, wiggled his toes, thanked all that was holy that Lee had thought to bring him clothes that weren't backless as he summoned all the strength he could muster to move onto his side. That's how he liked to sleep, not flat on his back like some kind of bas relief statue.

Lee said she'd be there when he woke up. Of course she'd be there, she'd waited a month for him to figure out how to get back into his body...what was a few hours while he rested the weak ass body he'd had to leave behind for a while?

"I love you too." Tarin said, eyes still on Lee as he started to relax and drift. He thought about it for a moment, this was going to be the first time he'd slept in a month. He'd never think about Lee sitting up, awake, the same again. Then something occurred to him and he fumbled around until he could find Lee's hand. "You're not crazy..." he said, yawning and letting his eyes slip shut, "It was me you could feel...I was always there..." the last was a mumbled whisper, because Tarin had already fallen back asleep. Not the still, deathlike sleep of the last month, but calm, regular sleep.