[ IP ] Sanctuary

*Who am I when no one's around? When it comes down to it, what am I to me? Why does it feel like everyone has their own questions answered but me? `` * 
 
 He always loved the sunrise. There was no romantic cliche attached to quietly rising early enough to wait patiently for the day to start. Here, it was always sunrise. He called it the morning room. He had invented every detail, especially it's overwhelming massiveness. There was n't a place like it on earth, which is why he was there. 
 
 `` Jaime, it's me again.'' 
 
 Occasionally he was joined by voices; all encompassing and vague. It bothered him endlessly how familiar they were, but then they spoke of strange unfamiliar things. 
 
 `` Can you hear me? I guess it's useless asking...'' 
 
 He's tried to create rooms that the voices could not reach but every attempt was in vain. He resigned himself to the endless sunrise and tried to drown out the words with more wondering. 
 
 `` I... I had to wait until your family was gone. I know it might be unfair of me to do this now, but I ca n't wait.'' 
 
 *Family? * 
 
 Every voice he heard claimed to be family, that makes this voice the first stranger. He started to listen closely now, why was this voice still familiar? 
 
 `` Thank you. I just had to say it alone, for myself.'' 
 
 The woman's voice. He knew that sound. It's pitch, the rise and fall, her accent, even the small breaths she took he could hear and imagine her lips moving to the sound. Then, from her lips came her face, her hair, her form as she was the very last time he saw her. The very last time he saw. 
 
 The memory that sat in his morning room, the woman in a tattered ruby bridesmaids dress, turned her open eyes and faced him. 
 
 `` If it was n't for you, the sacrifice you made, I would n't be alive to thank you.'' 
 
 
 
 
 Multiple whooping and beeping sirens sprung the young woman from her confession. The rows of inconceivable medical equipment had come to life and in doing so summoned a fleet of finely trained nurses and practitioners. They demanded she tell them what happened, and when the answer was insufficient they rushed her out of the sterile chamber. 
 
 There she sat, waiting, blaming herself, until someone emerged. 
 
 `` What's happened? Is he okay?'' She begged the scrubbed stranger. 
 
 `` He should be fine. It turned out to be a very strange spike in brain activity. It would help us a lot if you could tell us exactly how it happened. More brain activity is good sign he could recover from this coma.'' 
 
 
 
 From then on the woman visited often. They had a many one-sided conversations, all the while he could see her entirely. His visitor in the red dress, waiting in the morning room.
