“You big overprotective, Dummy, why don’t you ever….” - she couldn’t finish the sentence. Instead, Emily awoke with a start to the sounds of monitors beeping, the world slowly swimming into view. Her limbs felt heavy, and there was an itching in her throat that made her instinctively want to reach for what she learned was an oxygen mask. Thankfully, before she could do any damage, nurses surrounded her.
“Hey sweetie! Can you hear me?” one of them asked, her voice soothing with a hint of urgency.
Emily's voice cracked as she croaked, “I’m thirsty...my throat...” Before she knew it, one of the nurses was feeding her ice chips. The coldness was jarring, but she welcomed it, even though her mind foggily wondered why they didn’t just give her water. She wasn’t in any condition to argue.
“Where...am I?” she asked, her head still swimming.
“You’re in the hospital, Emily. You’re safe—just rest now,” a nurse responded gently.
Emily’s mind flitted in and out of focus. “Am I in the ICU? The PACU? Where are my mom and dad?” she asked, her knowledge kicking in.
The nurses exchanged glances, surprised by her familiarity with the terms. One leaned in and said, “I think her parents are physicians.”
“Oh yeah... always the parents...” Emily mumbled under her breath. “Just once, maybe someone will say I have a second consciousness merged into me from another universe who’s boosted my knowledge base by decades...”
Her voice trailed off as she sensed Danny’s familiar, dry tone.
“Emily... just... shut it, Shrimp. Go back to sleep. I need to rest too,” Danny’s voice grumbled faintly in her mind, and she smiled weakly.
“Hey, Danny, you’re still here... we did it... together,” she said aloud, before drifting back to sleep. The nurses exchanged bewildered looks but said nothing.
—
When Emily woke again, she was more alert. The itching in her throat had subsided a bit, but the non-stop beeping of machines around her grated on her already frayed nerves. She blinked against the sterile brightness of the room, her body feeling both heavy and numb.
“Oh, someone shut that beeping monstrosity off,” she muttered.
“You’re awake!” a voice exclaimed, and a different nurse hurried over. “How are you feeling, honey?”
“Like a car hit me... or a truck... wait, it was a car, right?” Emily replied instinctively, eliciting a small laugh from the nurse.
Her senses sharpened as the room came more into focus. It had the sterile feel of an ICU. But as the clarity settled, so did the memories. The crash. The noise. Lily. Tears welled up in her eyes. “I want my mom and dad,” she whispered, her voice trembling.
“They’ll be here soon, sweetheart,” the nurse reassured her, stroking her hand lightly.
As Emily waited, a familiar presence pulsed gently from within her. It was faint, but comforting. “Hey, you grouchy old space ghost, you still here?” she thought.
Danny’s reply was instant but quieter than usual. “Of course, Shrimp, where else would I go?”
Emily smiled weakly. “Good, you’re... helping healing us?”
“Trying to... but could you not leap out of bed again? I’m a little tired,” Danny replied with a soft laugh, though there was an edge of exhaustion to his words.
—
Moments later, the door opened, and Emily did nearly jump out of bed again, at the sight of her parents. Sarah and Thomas rushed toward her, tear-streaked but relieved. Time seemed to slow down as they reached her bedside, holding her hands, whispering soft, comforting words she could only half-hear at first. The warmth of their presence wrapped around her like a blanket, and despite the fatigue, she felt safe.
“It’s good to see you too, Mom, Dad,” Emily whispered, her voice soft, her throat still raw.
Sarah let out a shaky laugh, wiping her tears. “It’s good to see you too, Em. You’re going to be just fine.”
Thomas’s voice cracked with emotion. “We’re here, Em. We’re not going anywhere.”
A small smile tugged at Emily’s lips. “You guys are cute like this,” she said, her attempt at humor breaking into a brief coughing fit, sending her parents into another round of fussing over her.
“How’s Lily?” Emily asked weakly, her eyes fluttering.
Thomas squeezed her hand. “Lily’s fine, Em. You saved her.”
Sarah’s voice trembled as she added, “You were so brave, Em. Our little heroine.”
“That’s good...” Emily’s voice trailed off as her body, still healing, began pulling her back toward sleep. “I think I need to sleep a bit longer...” she murmured, her words fading, comfortable in the warmth of her parents’ love.
—
A few days later, Emily was transferred to her own private room, where one parent could stay with her each night. Sarah and Thomas, of course, would have none of this and managed to find a way to situate both of themselves, albeit uncomfortably, in the same room.
The hours passed in a blur, as the room bustled with a near-constant flow of nurses, techs, and doctors. Monitors beeped rhythmically, keeping track of Emily’s vitals as Sarah and Thomas tried to find moments of rest between the rounds of care.
They barely had a moment to sit down before another nurse or doctor would come through, checking on Emily’s condition, adjusting machines, or scribbling in her chart. Both parents, exhausted, hardly found a second of peace, their eyes constantly darting between Emily and the medical staff.
The doctors shared test results and post-op notes with them, disbelief etched on their faces at how fast Emily was healing.
"She should still be in the ICU right now," one of the doctors said, showing Thomas the bloodwork charts. "She should probably still be on a ventilator! I’ve never seen anything like this. Her wounds are healing in hours—days at the most."
Another doctor, equally stunned, said, "I know kids bounce back quickly, but… I thought she’d at least have a few fractures! Sure, there’s bruising, but that’s to be expected. Honestly, this is a medical miracle."
As more hours slipped by, the constant stream of nurses checking IVs and monitors didn’t slow. Sarah and Thomas felt as if they’d been awake for days. Every time they closed their eyes, they were interrupted by another round of testing or follow-up evaluations.
The surgeon conducting his follow-ups added during one of his visits, "Her heart stopped during the procedure—this is never easy to say to a parent." He sighed as Thomas’s jaw dropped, and Sarah covered her mouth with her hand to stifle a scream. They remembered the Code Blue, the chaos in the operating room—but hearing it put this way felt entirely different.
"I don’t know how to explain this. We resuscitated her, but…" He hesitated, looking at the confused faces before him. "It was almost like she was pulling herself back, as if she was fighting it. It’s as though… she resuscitated herself."
He shook his head. "This kid might become a medical case study. I’m not complaining, but it's as if she has some kind of guardian angel watching over her."
As the doctor left, the chaos finally subsided, leaving Sarah and Thomas alone with their thoughts. They looked down at their sleeping daughter, trying to make sense of what they had just heard.
"I’m her dad. It’s hard to stay detached," Thomas murmured, trying to reconcile the doctor’s words with what he knew. "But Sarah they’re right. How is she recovering this fast, or alive?"
"Guardian angel… medical miracle," Sarah whispered, her mind trying to piece it together. Only one explanation, though hard to admit, seemed possible.
"Tom," she began hesitantly, "do you think it was…?"
"Daniel?" Thomas finished, his brow furrowed. "I don’t know, Sarah. I don’t know anything right now, but…"
"But what other answer is there?" Sarah finished for him.
They both looked down at Emily again, overwhelmed by a mix of emotions—concern, confusion, relief, awe—all at once. The room, now quiet but still humming with the soft beeps of the machines, seemed calmer than it had been all day. The quiet finally allowed Sarah and Thomas to reflect.
"We’ve seen proof of Daniel before," Sarah began cautiously. "I still don’t know how I feel about it, but… yes. We’ve had these discussions. The dual consciousness, the strange things we can’t explain, but seeing this…" She trailed off, shaking her head. "Incredible. Just… incredible."
The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
Thomas nodded silently, rubbing his face. Together, they sat by their daughter's bedside, lost in thought. They fell into a heavy silence, both of them staring at their daughter—alive, healing faster than should be humanly possible. The weight of what had just happened pressed down on them leaving both parents humbled and awestruck by recent events.
Sarah looked up suddenly, feeling a strange warmth filling the room, initially wondering if this was her imagination. It was a quiet, comforting presence, like an invisible hand resting gently on her shoulder. Though she couldn’t see it, though she struggled to admit it, she thought she felt it —Daniel’s presence was there, watching over Emily, as always.
Finally, the exhaustion from the emotional rollercoaster caught up to them. Holding Emily’s hand Sarah let sleep take her.
Thomas was not far behind in the corner, the quiet hum of the machines and the steady breathing of their daughter lulling him into a dreamless rest.
—
Sarah woke with a start to find herself standing in a lush, sunlit meadow, a gentle breeze blowing. The sky above was a vibrant blue, with the sun streaming comfortably, and the distant sound of birdsong creating a peaceful, serene atmosphere.
“HUH!? Where or what!?” she yelped, as she stood up - feeling a wave of anxiety at waking up in this unfamiliar place. She spun around, taking in the sights, her unease growing with each moment, wanting to scream for help but her voice frozen.
It was at that time she noticed a cherry blossom tree swaying gently in the wind—identical to the one Thomas and Emily had planted in their backyard. Her heart skipped a beat, pieces began falling into place. “Is this, how is this possible, but am I in Emily’s... dreamscape?” she thought aloud, her voice shaky and uncertain.
“Is anyone there? Help? I need help!” she finally called out into the meadow. “Please?”
As if in response, a shadow darted past her, giggling—a laugh that was both familiar and foreign. The shadow stopped, turned around, and waved brightly. Sarah blinked and waved back on instinct, her eyes widening as she recognized the figure.
“That’s... Emily? Emily’s shadow...”
“She’s resting otherwise, you’d see her here too,” a voice called out gently from behind, making Sarah jump. The voice, unmistakably lighthearted like Emily’s, tugged at her heart.
Slowly, cautiously, Sarah turned around, and her breath caught in her throat. There, standing before her, was a man - or maybe an older boy. His hands were casually tucked into his pockets, his moppy hair partly covering his brown eyes which were sparkling with familiar mischief and warmth. He couldn’t have been more than a few years past twenty.
“So... hey... welcome to the dreamscape?” he said with a sheepish grin, his voice awkward. “I never quite expected to see you here. Sorry Emily’s not around, but she needs to rest. I’m driving this car for a bit while she heals.”
For a moment, they both stared at each other. The man awkwardly scratched at his messy hair, clearly unsure of himself.
“Maybe you connected with this place somehow because you were holding her hand as you two fell asleep? It is a dreamworld of sorts” he mumbled, his voice thoughtful but with a trace of hesitation.
Meanwhile, Sarah’s heart raced as she began putting two and two together—the casual clothes, the unkempt hair, the smile, and those eyes, so much like Emily’s.
“Are you...” Sarah began, her voice barely a whisper. “Are you Daniel? Emily’s Daniel?”
The man chuckled sheepishly, his hands still in his pockets. “No... I’m Matt,” he said with a playful shrug. “Sorry, couldn’t help it. I get sarcastic when I’m nervous. Yes... I’m Daniel.” He paused, furrowing his brow. “Or I used to be Daniel, or I’m the Daniel part of Emily... I don’t know. I shouldn’t overthink it.”
Sarah's heart pounded. His posture, his expressions—it was Emily, yet not. This wasn’t the stern, faceless presence she had imagined when she thought of Daniel. He was younger, more vibrant, and certainly more mischievous than she had expected.
“You’re a lot younger than I imagined,” Sarah murmured, instinctively reaching out to touch his arm.
“Hey, I’ll take that!” Danny laughed happily. “People always told me I looked older than my age. Not sure if that’s a compliment or not.”
Sarah chuckled, though the situation still felt surreal. She had always pictured Daniel as some invisible, otherworldly entity, but this was real. So real.
“Is it really you, Daniel?” she asked, her voice tinged with awe and disbelief.
Danny nodded, his smile softening. “Yeah, it’s me.” He hesitated, looking down at the ground. “I’m sorry for barging into your lives the way I did, but... it kinda just happened. So, uh... thanks for tolerating me? And for being there for Emily, and for me too? And letting me be your kid for a while? And your lasagna? I’m probably rambling, huh?” He laughed nervously, still avoiding eye contact.
“Letting me be your kid, your lasagna” - these unexpected compliments caused tears to well in Sarah’s eyes as she took a step closer. When her hand brushed his arm, a wave of recognition washed over her. This warmth, this quiet energy. she had felt it before. She remembered it from all those months ago - when he was inadvertently driving Emily’s body - she had unknowingly read stories to him, taught him how to dress, taught him how to make bread and soup and spent hours with him.
He had always been there - even during harder times, when Sarah needed help, or a boost.
“It was you,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “All this time... it was you... comforting me, helping her.”
Danny shifted uncomfortably, clearly not used to such attention. “I mean, yeah... I’ve been around. But it’s mostly Emily. She’s the strong one. She’s the one who gets you through most of it.” He added with a playful grumble, “Even if she is a Shrimp...”
Sarah blinked, the nickname triggering a rush of memories. "Shrimp"—Emily had mentioned the term, complaining about how Daniel teased her.
“Is this real?” she asked again, the weight of the moment pressing down on her.
Daniel’s eyes softened further, and he sighed gently. “That’s a loaded question. I mean... I don’t even know what reality is anymore. One minute I’m in my universe, minding my own business, being miserable. The next, bam—I’m shoved into the mind of a kid without anyone asking me first. So... is this real? I dunno. All I know is that consciousness is far more complicated than we ever imagined. Maybe this is a dream... maybe it’s something deeper. Maybe this a pocket dimension? I honestly don’t know.”
With a gentle wave of his hand, Daniel transformed the meadow around them. The world shifted, and suddenly, they stood before a vast network of glowing threads, each pulsating with energy.
“This is Emily’s thread,” Daniel said, pointing to a vivid orange-yellow strand that shimmered with life. “It’s her essence, her being.” He then gestured toward a deep blue thread that intertwined with the hers. “And this one is mine.”
With another wave, Danny zoomed out, revealing two other faint threads snaking their way toward Emily’s—a brilliant golden thread, and a powerful, pulsing red thread. “That one is you,” he said with affection, pointing at the golden thread. “And that red one... that’s Thomas.” Each of these threads was intersecting, their connections growing stronger.
Sarah watched in awe as the threads twisted and connected, creating an intricate bond between them. She noticed her thread was brighter than Thomas’s.
Sensing her observation, Daniel quickly added, his voice tinged with childlike nervousness, “You were quicker to... accept Emily and me. I think, subconsciously, you started thinking of me as more than just a faceless entity. So, our threads connected a bit more strongly.” He quickly added, “I’m sure the other guy will get there one day.”
Sarah instinctively smiled, recognizing the defensiveness in Daniel’s voice, so much like a child, so much like Emily. However, as she observed more closely, Emily’s thread began to fade and fray, slowly drifting away from the others.
“What’s happening to Emily’s thread?” she asked, panic rising in her chest.
Daniel’s expression grew serious as he pointed to his own thread, which started to glow brighter. “This is Emily’s near-death experience after the accident. Her essence was weakening, her heart stopping. But look...” He gestured as the blue thread reached out, intertwining with Emily’s, enveloping it in a protective shell that stabilized her essence.
“My thread is harmonizing with Emily’s,” Daniel explained gently. “It’s forming a protective barrier, keeping her stable, as long as she needs it. Our threads are evolving together, becoming something new, something stronger.”
With a chuckle, he added, “It just needed a little push. Madame Zara did say we’d evolve, didn’t she? All it took was a bit of energy...”
Sarah’s concern deepened, though her understanding started to grow. “Daniel... how are you doing this? It seems... impossible.”
He smiled, soft but assured. “It might seem mystical, but there’s a bit of science to it too. Think of Emily’s body like a city, with pathways and roads connecting everything. When some paths are damaged, the city doesn’t just shut down—it finds other routes to function. That’s what we’re doing. We’re activating alternative routes in her body to help her heal.”
Sarah nodded slowly, absorbing the gravity of his words. “So, you’re not healing her directly, but you’re helping her body heal itself more efficiently?”
“Well, yes and no...” Daniel said, suddenly looking sheepish, like a child caught doing something he shouldn’t have. “Emily’s doing the heavy lifting. She’s incredibly strong, and her body can do wonders with just a little direction.”
Sarah’s breath caught as memories of the surgery flashed through her mind—the doctors’ disbelief at Emily’s recovery, how she had held on when it seemed impossible. A sharp thought struck her. “What did you do, Daniel?” she asked, her voice growing more maternal and firm.
Daniel glanced away, the playful glint in his eyes fading. “I... I helped,” he said quietly. “She was struggling, and I gave her a little... boost.”
Sarah’s heart sank. “A boost?” she repeated, her voice trembling. “What kind of boost, Daniel?”
He hesitated, his nervousness visible as he twiddled his thumbs, not making eye contact with Sarah. “Umm…so…I may have given her a part of me,” he said softly, almost apologetically. “A bit of my life energy, my essence. Enough to get her back on her feet.”
Sarah staggered, the weight of his confession hitting her like a ton of bricks. “You... you gave her part of your... what?” Her voice cracked with emotion, her heart racing as she struggled to comprehend.
Daniel didn’t meet her gaze. “I’m basically energy right? So I guess her a bit of what makes me. But it’s okay. She’s fine now.”
The full impact of his actions slammed into Sarah. Her mind raced, piecing together the risk he had taken. “And if you’d given too much...” Her words trailed off, dread pooling in her stomach as she realized the gravity of his actions.
“Oi... nothing happened. Chill. She needed a bit of a boost, that’s all.” He added, trying to sound casual but failing miserably. “The important thing is she’s okay, right?”
Sarah’s heart ached with the realization of what he wasn’t saying. “Daniel... you could’ve been lost,” she whispered. “You would have... died? You didn’t tell her, did you? She would never have agreed.”
Mocking seriousness, Daniel tried to play it off. “Eh, I get some privileges as the big brother. She didn’t have a say.” But then, his gaze grew firmer, his voice steady, filled with an adult-like conviction. “I couldn’t just let her go, I had to do something and yeah, it took more than I expected but..she’s my sister, and you... you’re my family too. I’d do it again, in a heartbeat.”
As Sarah looked up at the tapestry of threads, she noticed the strands beginning to pulse with new, unified energy. The colors of Emily’s and Daniel’s threads complement each other, stabilizing, a radiant white and green hue pulsing, symbolizing the evolution of their bond.
“She saved me in so many ways,” Daniel said softly, his voice filled with quiet gratitude. “And now I finally get to help her. If it costs me some - so be it....”
He gestured toward the tapestry, the glowing threads weaving and twisting in harmony. “This is the new us,” Daniel said, his voice almost reverent. “A guardian, a protector. Both Emily and I, together.”