Chapter Text
There's a metallic scent to the air.
Heat flickering against his face as small, sharp particles of glass dig into his skin.
The world is upside down as a piece of too-tight fabric digs into his waist and chest.
'What happened?'
He honestly doesn't know as he finds it near impossible to think straight though that likely had something to do with the flow of blood running down his face only to drip onto the metal beneath him and disappear with a soft sizzle. There's a soft noise of shifting gravel rapidly approaching his position before a face appears in the broken out window for the driver's seat.
Pale Skin, Pale blonde hair, and wide terrified eyes.
He can see the other's lips moving but he can't hear them over th static filling his ears. The other- not quite a boy, but not quite a man- seems to realize this and mimes covering his face before he draws back just enough to strip back his jacket before wrapping it around one of his hands and part of his arm. He barely makes it in time to cover his face before the other's coated hand is smashing the broken shards of sharp glass out of the driver's seat window. Fresh air, instantly rushes inside the upside-down vehicle, but with it comes another smell that he somehow recalls as vividly as a blue sunny sky:
Gasoline.
It takes his mind longer than he cares to admit to come to the realization that his car's tank must have busted and was therefore leaking all the gas inside it all over the place.......Robotically, he turns his face from the other who was trying to pry his seatbelt off with little to no success towards the front window where he can see speak of flame flickering past the broken hood hiding the engine
.....Shit.
From the corner of his eyes, he can see the flash of a small blade, then the sound of fabric snapping before he's falling onto the heated metal below.
Black.
He wakes in a hospital's white room with white walls, white ceilings, white floors, and white sheets. The only colors are the light blue and crimson red of the heart monitor as it keeps beeping to the rhythm of his heart.
He does not remember his name, he does not remember his age, he does not remember where he came from or where he was going. He does not remember who is president, what year it is, his favorite color, or if he has any family......
If he does, they never show.
The only visitor he ever has is the Other- not quite a boy, but not quite a man- from the wreckage....He says his name is 'Joey Drew, but just call me Joey'. Joey visits every day and stays for hours on end. He brings him stuff like books, puzzles, sketchpads, and colored pencils. The blonde talks a lot, but he doesn't mind...
Though he finds the other a bit strange at times.
An example of this would be how the other's eyes always look so very guilty yet relieved with each day that passes without anyone appearing to lay claim on knowing him and who he had once been. Then there were those days when his hospital room's door wasn't all the way shut and he could see the other whispering to a Head Doctor about something or another yet always feel silent whenever anyone else- be they another doctor or another patient- walked past them.
...He chooses to ignore it. Just as he chooses to ignore the day's Joey would show up with a suitcase, somehow lose it while talking to the Head Doctor in his office, and never try finding it when he leaves. After all, it none of his business and he has more things to concern himself with.
Like his lack of identity as without a name to fill out the paperwork with the hospital would not release him. And even if he did get released, where would he go?
He doesn't know who he is so he doesn't know if he has anywhere to go or was that burnt shell of a car the only thing he had owned? If so, how was he supposed to pay the hospital bill he was no doubt racking up just by sleeping in this too white room?
Honestly, he doesn't have an answer for any of it, but in the end, he doesn't need an answer.
On the day he is to be released- a long four months after he had been admitted- Joey appears with a large smile, the head doctor, and a man in a fancy suit carrying a briefcase. The later of the three, claims to be Joey's 'Lawyer' and speaks with terms that give him a headache- It's familiar and for some reason he finds his eyes flickering down to the other's hands only to be mildly disappointed upon seeing five fingers instead of six- as he explains exactly what Joey had been doing acting so strange these last few weeks.
He feels as though his neck is going to snap with how swiftly he keeps glancing from the pile of papers sitting on his lap, to the man in the suit, then towards Joey. For some reason, seeing the hopeful gleam in the other's blue eyes and the smile on Joey's face makes his throat feels tight.
Identity.
His name, should he accept it, is to be Henry Stein.
Home.
"I would like you to stay with me....That is if you don't mind."
Debtless.
"Mr. Drew has already paid all your hospital bills in advance."
Acceptance.
He had been here for four long months and not a single person besides Joey seemed to notice. No one came for him. No one seemed to know him. No one ever bothered trying to call the hospital. He spent all his days taking medication, being poked and prodded at, smiling and laughing with Joey......So, was it any real wonder he signed the papers?
And thus, unknown to all but one, Stanley Pines died October 31. 19xx at 12:01 A.M. on the same night Henry Stein was born.