The rain was coming down hard outside. The loud splatter of water on safety glass could be heard even inside the nurses' station. Bleach, Windex and soap filled the air, reminding all visitors that the hospital would soon be closed to all except those unfortunate enough to reside there. The smell was a 40-minute warning, telling all who were capable, to leave as soon as they could and enjoy what freedom they might've still had.

As the hallway lights became dimmer, the noise began to die down. Family members were no longer conversing with their loved ones; televisions were no longer telling of the highlights of the day. It was time for the silence to once again fall for the normal eight hours; time to fall back into schedule. Only, one room refused to do just that; it was not ready to be silenced. Life had just begun to stir and it was unlikely it would stop.

Three figures stood just inside the doorway of room 208. The first appeared to be a man in his late 30s. His golden blonde hair was combed back into a neat style that made him appear to be much younger, perhaps 26 or 27. It fell just above his shoulders in a style that was reminiscent of old world balls and tea parties. A green velvet tie adorned the glossy locks, stopping just about the crisp, white shirt collar. He wore an expensive suit, Armani no less. The black pinstriped fabric hugged his tall masculine frame in a way that was both sensual and professional. A casual observer might wonder if he was there for business but his demeanor said that this was his normal way of dress. He would not be seen in anything less. Everything, right down to his expensive Italian shoes and his Hermes cufflinks said that he reeked of money. His pale skin had no trace of wrinkles; instead, it was as smooth as a child's. His delicate features told if his experience in the world, making him appear to much older than the age stated on his visa. Few would know his real age and the one of them was not less than 7 feet in front of him.

Straightening, he inched closer to the hospital bed. His pale hand sweeping a strand of hair away from the pillow as a said smile spread across his face. His violet eyes swept over the feminine face and his fingers fanned over her soft skin. A bitter smile replaced the previous one and he found himself wondering how someone who had been here for so long could still be so beautiful. Bending closer, he rested his forehead on hers, his hand cupping her chin as he whispered.

"Le Paradis est rempli d'anges...but I feel as though it is much too soon for you, mon ange."

The man blinked, the sound of fabric rustling bringing him from his thoughts. He didn't need to turn his head to know the source of the noise, instead he leaned in further surveying the face for any sign of change. The answer was grim. None.

He clucked his tongue, his large frame straightening once again as he beckoned the other man over.
"Monsieur Reyes." The words rolled off of his delicate tongue as though he had just taken a sip of his favorite wine. "Brian..." There was no response. A heavy sigh followed by a footstep or two.

"I am not in the habit of solving problems with pain, Monsieur. But I shall have you know that if you do not come over here, I will not hesitate to forget all that my proper upbringing has taught me throughout the years..."

Brian Reyes was much taller, and a few years younger. His dark hair fell in soft waves atop his head and paired with the contrast of his warm honey-hued skin, it made him quite a sight to behold. Like the other man, it was very much apparent that he took care in his appearance but he could not hide subtleties that had resulted from his second year of being a police detective. Coarse stubble lined his angular jaw and his Cupid 's bow mouth was locked into a permanent scowl. He was dressed in a pair of faded blue jeans and a plain black t-shirt. The black Converse All Stars he wore accented his black Adidas sweatshirt, helping him complete the look of a typical street cop; yet, he was no ordinary cop. He was a best friend. A hothead. And as of three weeks ago, he was a hero. No one would know it just by looking at him but he was broken. Hurt radiated from him like the light from the nurse's station but he'd be damned if he talked to anyone about it. Instead he moved to the other side of the bed. The mattress shifted toward him and he resumed where the other man had left off.

"It's been a month and still no change, Rich."

I snorted. It was so like him to state the obvious. All of us had eyes and we all had enough sense to realize that things weren't getting better with her. What was her name again...

Blowing out a puff of air, I came closer, stopping just inches from where Brain sat at the edge of the bed. I saw Brian tense up but I held my ground and when he did nothing, I looked to Richot.

Neither acknowledged my presence, but why should they? The last month had gone horribly bad between the three of us. My knack for stubbornness had gotten me into more trouble than I could imagine, most of which I couldn't remember at the moment. Still, I didn't mind. It made this time a little bit easier. I had more problems than I wanted to admit, and the silence kept them from becoming real if only for the moment. Accepting my defeat, I retreated away from the two men, choosing to take refuge in any other part of the room but there.

I sat quietly in the darkened corner across from the hospital bed, making sure to cover bits of myself. I wasn't in my usual clothes because, tonight like many other nights, I was a patient as well. I shifted my weight in the chair, trying my best to cover myself from the eyes I hoped would focus on me any minute. My gown was streaked with small droplets of blood from a wound that had no doubt reopened as a result from a popped stitch, but that was the least of my worries. I was there for a reason; a reason that neither myself nor the two men could explain.

Richot now looked to Brian, his grey eyes giving a small hint as to what his real age was. He sniffed the air a bit and then looked in front of him.

"Qui. It's very tragic...and yet she still waits." Brian looked straight in front of him, refusing to look the other man in the eyes for fear of doing something rash. "For him," he spat.

"I understand your rage but the worst thing we could do is give up hope. I mean, it isn't our choice to give up hope. You know as well as I do that we don't have the right." Richot placed a hand on Brian's shoulder, his long frame looming over the bed before returning back to his side.

Brian nodded, his furrowed brow telling Richot that he wasn't in full agreement. "No, we do not...But it seems as though those who hold that right are not willing to acknowledge that they have a duty! I mean look at her. She's-"

Richot stood now, his violet eyes shifting to a color that could be best described as gun metal grey. "Do not tell me to look. I have looked...I have looked every day for the last 3 weeks while the rest of you hid in your busy lives...Do not tell me Monsieur!"

Brian sat quietly now, his handsome face downcast so that all he looked at was his lap. "I know," was all he said but it didn't take an empath to feel the guilt that oozed from his words. In an instant Richot regretted the words he'd so hastily spat out in his frustration.

"It was not my place to raise my voice in such a way. Please forgive me for it is not what she would want. But you have to know that we can't exactly force him to do what he has to. You know him and you know that he does things his way...in his own time," Richot cooed.

They fell silent for a moment, each turning to look at the figure that lay in the hospital bed nestled between them. Brian swallowed, his eyes darting to the face of the woman.

What he saw made his stomach jump and his knees weak. That beautiful face wasn't twisted in pain as it should've been. Instead it looked exactly the way it would have any other day. Except for the small scar above her forehead, she looked fine. She didn't fit the normal stereotype for a comatose patient, instead she looked as if she were sleeping. He only wished it were so.

She had been in a coma for three weeks know. The balloons and flower bouquets were beginning to clutter her room and it wouldn't take much more to completely fill the room. It was only a matter of time before someone from the hospital administration would say they needed to be cleared out. But their attempts would be in vain. They had been given to her by one person they wouldn't dare to challenge. After all, they were a gift from him; a substitute to lighten the blow of him not having come in person. He had remembered she loved the smell of fresh flowers and so every day he had them delivered. The room was an obscenely large private room that had been reserved for her courtesy of him. Normally it was off limits to anyone besides a celebrity but he'd learned long ago that money could buy anything and everyone. He scribbled his name on the ledger when he'd first reserved it, forgetting completely to write his alias instead.

Michiaell Sontino Giancarlo III would be what they saw on the paper although everything else he owned said he was simply Mikey Gian.

He'd lived most of his unnatural life carrying around secrets. No one had completely understood him except for her. With all his power, money and resources, he could have never fathomed what would happen when he met her; he could only enjoy her company while it lasted and hate himself when it was gone.

He hadn't been to visit her since she had been admitted but he had seen to it that she got to the hospital. He had even driven her himself, almost sideswiping cars as he sped across Caheunga Blvd in a blind fury. With all he had, he still couldn't manage to buy what mattered most. To Brian, he was a coward, not because his relationship with her had risked all their lives; but, because he refused to come to her room. He was feeling sorry for himself and to Brian, he was the worst kind of coward there was.

Brian touched her hair. It felt as it always had, like dark waves of silk. His hand trailed to her smooth cedar toned face and it angered him to see that her skin had paled since his last visit. He wanted to see her beautiful smile or to hear her voice. But he knew with each day she spent in this hell hole, that they were losing her.

He turned to Richot who stood as still as a statue. "How can he let this happen? There has to be something...anything he can do." He turned away from him, looking down at her again. "We can't just let this happen."

Richot looked from the young woman to his friend. "This is natural, we can't tamper with it."

Brian turned to look at Richot, rage showing in his eyes as he rose from the bed. "You call this natural...THIS SHIT ISN'T NATURAL! " he yelled as he pointed to her. "She isn't supposed to be lying her with IVs coming out of her arms! She's supposed to be walking around like the rest of us! It's funny you should say that this is natural, I don't see you or that bastard lying here fighting for your lives!"

A nurse rushed in from the hallway and stood silently. She looked almost too afraid to speak but after a few seconds she did.

"Sir?" she asked quietly.

"WHAT?!" he yelled.

She swallowed hard. "I'm going to have to ask you to leave. You are upsetting the other patients and visiting hours have been over."

Richot stepped forward. "Excuse my friend, but we are upset to see her like this. But, my dear Nurse Richards, the visiting hours are never over for us..." he said quietly. With a dismissive sweep of his hand, he bid her good night. "Please leave us, Amanda."

It seemed as though all of the color had drained from her face and she looked down at her name badge. The room was far too dark for him to have seen that, far too dark. What was worse was the fact that her first name wasn't listed. She was positive that they'd never spoken before otherwise she would have remembered him but she was too frightened to keep quiet.

She took a step back and opened her mouth to say something.

Richot spoke again, the annoyance apparent in his silky voice. "We are not quite finished with our visit, mademoiselle. We will let you know."

It was in that moment that I knew she recognized him. Richot was many things but he wasn't too wise when it came to publicity. She had been too occupied to notice at first, and he had hidden his accent well. But everyone worth a damn in Los Angeles knew who Richot Maginot was. He was a camera whore but who could blame him, he knew people found him intriguing because of what he was. He was just working it in his favor.

She seemed to perk up just a bit as her eyes darted to Brian's pained face. Her expression said that she found him just as attractive but she wondered if he were the same. If he were one of them.

"Fantastic." I muttered under my breath as I crossed a bare leg. Not even here 20 minutes and already these two had an effin fan club. Nurse Barbie...I mean Richards, took a couple of steps forward, licking her lips as she inched closer.

"I should think not. What would we be if we let everyone in?" Richot said with a smirk, answering her silent question. "Not that it is some club, you don't pay a fee to become what I have become..."

He had long since moved from the bed. His body now standing so near to hers that she suddenly forgot why it was that she had come. She had a better look at him now and she found herself daydreaming about what it would be like to kiss his thin mouth or run her fingers through his flaxen hair. Maybe it was his eyes, they were so beautiful...So intoxicating. Just like fresh lavender. She blushed at the thought. She needed to stop working the night shift and go out on a date.

Richot cleared his throat, bringing the young nurse from her daydream. "If you have any more curiosities I suggest you save them for someone more willing." He shifted his weight and there was a small rustling as the silk brushed upon his skin. "Now, I will say it only once more. Leave us."

She seemed a bit shocked. He hadn't so much as yelled but his calm words seethed anger and frustration. His demeanor seemed so gentle but she hadn't hesitated to catch the calm threat in his voice. Turning on her clogs, she moved towards the open door. Wasting no time leaving, she pulled the door closed behind her, never stopping to look back. For some reason, she knew she would feel safer behind the giant plexi-glass window of the nurses' station. Little did she know that it would do little to protect her if he so chose to act.

Richot turned to Brian, his stunning eyes shifting to the darker grey once more. "Do not ever question my loyalty to her. I adored her just as you did, and I still do. I would give all that I have to make this go away but I cannot; It doesn't happen that way. As for Michiaell, do not ever call him out of his name unless you know what you are doing. There is far more to the story than you know."

Brian slowly turned, some of the anger fading. "What do you mean and why did you call him Michiaell?"

Richot smiled slightly. It was something for him to call him Michiaell but he was also his friend. He couldn't let Brian bad mouth him without knowing the whole story.

"I mean that more went on after you left for those three months. I know for a fact that she did not tell you everything."

Brian shook his head slowly. He didn't believe that for a minute. "I know...I know that she wouldn't lie-"

Richot threw his hand into the air. "Non, no one said she would lie about it, rather leave some things out. There were things far too dangerous to tell you, but...." He looked over to her and smiled sadly. "It doesn't matter anymore. I feel you should know and if she were able, she would fill you in. You hate Michiaell, therefore he cannot tell you. The others don't know enough, so I must."

Brain swallowed, his eyes watering slightly. Richot had never lied to him before so he knew there was a great chance that he wasn't lying now. He didn't want to think that she could keep something so important from him. He was sure she had her reasons but she could have told him; she could always count on him.

"Brian?" Richot asked.

Brian turned to face the other man, a saddened look on his face. "Fine, tell me but it doesn't mean that I have to believe you."

Richot smiled faintly. It pleased him to see that Brian could still be so stubborn. He was strong, but bad at hiding his emotions. "Have a seat over there so that I may begin."

Brian stalked over to the chair closest to me, plopping down in a sloppy fashion. The older man did the same only he chose a recliner, arranging himself with the utmost care and grace. He smoothed his pants and placed his folded hands onto his lap observing us for what seemed like hours. In truth, he was thing of what to say exactly He did not know how to begin the story; he wasn't sure if he wanted to relive it either but there was no one else to do it. Why even the one he had looked after for so long was behaving out of character. He did not deserve his titles or his praise. Brian was right; Michiaell was nothing more than a coward.

And so the story began, Brian listening with his heart full of misdirected hatred, and Richot broken hearted. I sat with my knees tucked into my chest, my head resting just inches away from the warmth of Brian's shoulder. Any other time, he would'v beckoned me into his embrace but not tonight. Tonight I was a stranger and she was the center of attention. This young woman had touched all our lives in some way but for some reason, I could not remember how she had touched mine. I had known her for what seemed to be all my life but still, I was at a loss for words and thoughts. Then again, having a serious concusion could do that to you. As the story began I had no choice but to relive the last few weeks as they played back inside my head. Maybe then, I would have my answers. Maybe then I would have the chance to mend fences.