It was cold. I remember that much.

Yes, it was a cold night. Maybe even snowing. I know this because of the feeling of the freezing, wet concrete beneath my trembling body before I lost senses once again.

It was never too long before I somewhat awoke again.

Next it was the ambulance. I may have been entirely out of it, but I know what an ambulance sounds like. It was loud, even from inside. The noise hurt, but I didn't say anything. I couldn't.

There was also someone else there. I didn't know the man, but he didn't seem to mind. I didn't, either. If he was going to make whatever was going on inside of me stop hurting, then I was glad for his presence.

I never saw him after that. Different division I suppose, because there were new people from then on. No one was ever around for too long, maybe an hour at most, before passing me off to someone else's hands- metaphorically, of course. I was always laying on a table the whole night. I guess it was a bed, but it felt more like a table at the moment.

I didn't mind.

I would put up with it. I don't really have the presence of mind to recall exactly why I am here right now, but I didn't mind. 

Death was never really an option for me. No matter how foggy my brain became, no matter how much the pain took over me, no matter how much I relied on their machines and their surgeries. I would let them have their fun tonight, and I wouldn't complain, because I knew that the moment I woke up for good, Jonghyun would be there. 

He'll be there waiting the next time I open my eyes.

He wasn't there when I went down, but then, I didn't expect him to be. They'll surely tell him I'm here, and he'll come rushing. 

I got a call I had never expected to receive. Something no one should ever receive. The call saying that your loved one has been hospitalized, fighting for his life.

And yet why, two days later, am I still waiting for him to wake up? There is only uncertain witness account as to what happened to him that night, but I don't know what to believe. I won't believe anything until Taemin wakes up and can tell me the truth. 

I heard that he was beaten by a man on the sidewalk in the middle of the night for no reason. All I know for sure is that it was late, very late, when he called me to inform me that he was leaving work after his shift at the bar and would be home within the hour. I had told him to wait there, that I didn't want him walking alone that late, that I would call him a cab- if I had a car, I would have gone to pick him up myself. It was the taxi driver who called the ambulance, arriving at the street corner to find him unconscious and bloodied with a woman checking his pulse. She said she had seen him sitting, minding his own business, when another man came over and tried to fight with him; she said it wasn't fair, that the man was twice as big as him, but that she didn't know why he'd done it. 

It was killing me, not knowing who this man was or why he hurt Taemin. The uncertainty was suffocating, sitting in Taemin's hospital room 24 hours a day, hearing nothing but the monotonous beeping that I should have been grateful for- it showed he was alive, at least- but was only making me more anxious. 

We could hardly afford this. We did fine on our meager salaries upholding rent for our apartment, weekly groceries, and the occasional nice date together. I should have been more focused on Taemin's state right now, but the financial stress was too much. There was the ambulance to pay for, the hospital room which he shared with another comatose patient who never had any visitors anyway, the emergency procedures, all sorts of services that were obviously necessary to a healthy recovery.. We hadn't been given a single bill yet, but I knew they weren't something I shouldn't just sit around and wait for.

I stopped staying at the hospital 24/7. Doctors told me it may be awhile until he regains consciousness, and they promised to call me as soon as he did. So I went back to work- with a real job. I was a hardly-known songwriter trying to get my name out there, but after what happened, I couldn't handle such a risky career anymore. I put songwriting to a halt and applied at every close-by restaurant and retail store; any money coming in would be appreciated.

I spent my nights at the hospital; it was too lonely not to. I didn't want to return to a silent apartment every night and sleep in a bed far too big for one. I would simply stop by to pick up the things I'd need the next day before heading to the hospital to sleep partially on Taemin's crisp hospital bed but mostly on the cheap plastic chair kept by the bedside. It wasn't comfortable- physically- but the mental assurance attained from being nearby my baby was enough to make up for it. Honestly, these past two weeks have been difficult as is, and I don't think I would have been able to handle staying here all the time like I had the first two days.

It hurt.

Which is why I only felt a little guilty getting the awaited call nearly a week later when I had been working as if it were any other day; my new boss knew of my situation and was understanding of me leaving early to get to the hospital. Taemin's advising nurse had said that he was exhibiting signs of consciousness and that he may wake up very soon.

I took no chances and left right away, arriving at the hospital room which I knew so well by now in a matter of minutes. Thankfully, I wasn't too late, and when I entered, the nurse was still there monitoring him.

She smiled upon my entrance and motioned for me to come closer, as I was still frozen in nervousness at the door. I don't know why I was nervous- I should be relieved- but I don't know what to expect. Will he be okay? Will he be afraid or in pain? Will he be able to speak? Will he recognize me? It was a thought I hadn't wanted to even entertain, but it's still a possibility- memory loss, that is. They said he sustained a severe concussion, so it's certainly a factor I should have taken into consideration before this point. And before I knew it, there were tears in my eyes, on my face.

"This isn't something to be upset about, sir," his nurse informed me politely. "His vital signs are looking very positive, and we have no reason to believe this will be an unfortunate scenario." She smiled and stepped aside, allowing me access to that little plastic chair that I've become all too familiar with recently, and I offered her a smile back as I took the invitation, even going so far as to grab hold of Taemin's warm hand in my own. Warm- warm is good. Warm is life, right?

His fingers twitched in my grasp and I looked up at the nurse expectantly with my eyes wide. She grinned back. "He's been doing that for a few minutes- it shouldn't be too long now. Why don't you try talking to him? He might respond better to waking up to a familiar voice."

I gulped and look back to the man lying in the bed. Trying to ignore the nurse's presence as if it were only the two of us in the whole world, I cleared my throat. "T-Taemin... It's Jonghyun-hyung. I've been here waiting for you to wake up, so you should really hurry and stop worrying me," I choked out with a tearful chuckle, using one hand to wipe at my wet cheeks. I had to let out a cough for a moment in order to keep my voice working; my emotions were simply overflowing, and I had to fight through it to speak. "I've, uh.. I've really missed your voice lately... an-and your smile," I added. "I... um, I got a job working at a, uh, a department store... I have to dress really nice all the time, and it's mostly for snobby rich women, but I don't mind it so much." I continued speaking, laughing genuinely at the weirdness of this. I hadn't spoken a single word to him in all this time- I thought it would be useless since he couldn't hear me anyway. I didn't know what to say now though... Do I ask questions, talk about my life, tell him how much I miss him?

I glanced back up at the nurse to see her nodding encouragingly at my actions, so I assumed I wasn't doing anything stupid. "I can't wait to see your beautiful eyes again Minnie, I didn't know how much I would need to see them every day. I hope you aren't afraid when you wake up, you have no reason to be. The doctors say you're doing so well, and I couldn't be more proud of you for getting this far already. I knew you were strong, baby. I shouldn't have been worried, right? You knew what you were doing." My throat had gradually been closing up in mixed excitement at the way his fingers had been slowly moving more and more, to the point that he was holding my hand back now. His eyelids were fluttering every so slightly, and I saw his lips pursing under the oxygen mask he was required to wear.

Just like that feeling you get on a roller coaster, when you reach the top of the peak and begin to fall down the steep slope, my heart was beating so erratically that I thought it was trying to jump straight out of my mouth the second Taemin's eyes could be seen. They were only open a slit, but it was enough for us to know that he was here and awake and conscious.

When he made an incoherent mumble and turned his head a bit to the side, I had to bite my lip to keep the tears from falling again. I was happy and hopeful, incredibly joyful at seeing Taemin looking back at me once again. His eyes opened just a little more in recognition, and I tightened my grip on his hand. 

His nurse took a moment to check the machines hooked up to him, and after confirming that everything was looking normal, she stepped out to allow us privacy. 

"Taemin, baby, you're awake..." I couldn't help but state the obvious, I felt like there was nothing else that I could say in that moment. 

And with the small smile I received in turn, I knew it would be alright.

Jonghyun was never here.

I was so relieved to wake up to his face, knowing that all would be okay with him by my side.

But the following weeks were lonely. He said he got a job and was working on paying the bills, but I would rather go into debt than have him absent for my recovery. Twice so far, I have been in surgery without him to hold my hand as they put me to sleep or to be with me when I awoke again, in more pain than before. 

I didn't want him to give up his dream of being a songwriter for me either. 

Everything about this made me feel terrible, and he wasn't even here anymore. I've tried looking at it through his eyes and I understand, but that doesn't mean I'm happy about it. When he does come, he always asks me if I remember what happened that night.

I always tell him that I don't. But I do.

I didn't want him to be hurt by the truth, or feel guilty for any reason. But my resolve was beginning to fade as the hours and the days went by, each feeling lonlier than the last. I've always been an introverted person, but spending this much time by myself was driving me crazy, and all I wanted was Jonghyun here to settle my nerves and my heavyheartedness. 

In a moment of selfish desire, I con