Kirby was completely denied any movement but still was aware of each and every single one of the needles that'd pierced his skin and flesh. All the muscles stimulated, nerves pierced, and organs emptied.
The ten minutes he spent in that mechanical sarcophagus seemed like a millennium. Every second more painful than the last. Waves of hot, uncomfortable tinglings burst through his body, cascading like ripples through still water.
When the machine had cleared he sat there, flushed red and panting. Crying while revelling in the amount of pain he'd just gone through. He couldn't even speak he was so physically exhausted. He let them wheel him off in silence, not a word was spoken.
He arrived in a clean, homely room with floral decorations. After taking in the room for a few seconds he was laid down on the bed. The doctors promptly backed out of the room.
Kirby sat there, staring at the cheaply panelled roof in that room for as long as he could bear. Day in, day out. He could only move his neck on the second day but still became stir crazy. After a week had passed he was able to get up and walk, not needing physical therapy due to the previous process of full body reconstruction. It was at this time other people began to visit him.
Aside from the nurse that's been looking after him, there was another doctor that came in. He asked Kirby some questions. Some personal, some nebulous, all seemingly probing at his mental health. Kirby, of course, answered the questions candidly.
After what seemed like an eternity of checks and minor physical and coordinational therapy Kirby realized his situation. He was no longer eight years old. The dark place he spent his time making and designing his own world had eaten years of life away. Ten of them to be exact. Just enough for him to be legally responsible for himself when he got out of his sleep.
He was scared at first but realized that his situation didn't change much of anything. He was already ready for society at the young age of eight. Losing ten years of his life sucked, but hey, at least he isn't dead.
There were two positive things that came from this. His mental age caught up with his physical age. And he still has basic bodily functions.
Kirby was midway through celebrating when the door opened, revealing a familiar face.
"Sister!" Kirby loudly exclaimed, a grin plastered across his face.
Rushing up, his sister hugged him, painful for the newly generated nerves along his sides.
Pushing her away they sat there for a bit. It was only until a gurney passed by in the hallway that they snapped out of their funk.
"How are Mom and Dad doing?" His grin widened, staring her down like an expectant puppy.
"Hssss…" Letting out air from between her teeth she grimaced.
"That doesn't sound good."
"It doesn't Kirby, they're… in a better place. Us kids where the only ones to make it out of that bus." looking away from Kirby she made sure to give him space.
"So… they… moved?"
"No Kirby, they're dead." She said, angry with the fact she had to say it herself.
"Oh…"
A little something snapped in Kirby.
Kirby's expression darkened for the very first time. A frown crossed his mouth, tainting his newly constructed face.
"What happened?" Kirby said, sighing as he looked up, a frown still marring his parent's tribute.
"I think you've been through enough, get so-."
"No. We're both adults. We were older than our age back then and still are. Don't try to whitewash this. Tell me what happened."
After saying this Kirby got up and held her arm. She tried to turn away but Kirby held her shoulders.
"Listen…" Kirby spat the words out like unwanted filth from between his teeth.
Total silence seemed to envelop the room. The world hushing to see what would happen next.
"What's… what's your name again?"
"GODDAMMIT KIRBY!!!"
The tension in the room immediately dissolved as she stood over Kirby.
"So…?" Kirby said quizzically.
"I'm Chloe."
"Oh, here I was thinking you were Sophie? That could have been disastrous."
"None of us go by Sophie."
"Really?! Neat."
"Do you remember us at all?" Chloe said seeming a bit sad.
"Of course I do! I'm just a bit confused. The whole coma and whatnot has really thrown me for a spin."
They talked like that for hours. Angry, sad, and happy all at once.
As the conversation was dying down and the lights in the hospital had dimmed, Kirby and Chloe wound up planning a get-together party. One last thing to do before the reality of the situation could kick in.
They were going to the very same greenhouse his eighth birthday party was planned to take place in. He was always interested in seeing nature, but since humans got rid of it they had to keep it safe in a few glass boxes.
When Chloe left, Kirby decided it was about time to get back on his own feet. After consideration, he could spend some time at the orphanage before he moved on.
He pressed the call button and the nurse entered the room.
After a brief, productive conversation he left the room, ready for an early discharge.
Moving down to the front desk he came to a man on the phone. He waited for the man to finish before asking for the relevant paperwork.
"Oh-h o-of course sir." The man said managing to get out the words despite the stammer.
With no car, he walked half an hour. And climbed for another hour on top of the horizontal movement.
Despite all the hassle, he made it to the old orphanage. Still in business of course, same as the day he left it.
"Home sweet home."
He entered by using his citizenship citizenslip as proof of his identity, showing that he partially owned the place. After which he went into his father's office and laid down on the old leather sofa
"I'm still alive dad. I have the entire world to live through and experience. I can do anything now. I don't know why though." Kirby said, head buried in the old, smelly cushions of the couch.
"I'll do my best to be happy dad, just like you. I'll try my best to feel something with someone."
"Goodnight."