Dominic stood frozen, his mind reeling as he gazed upon Key's face, now aged and weathered.

The man lying before him bore the weight of years unseen, his frame more substantial now. His hair had abandoned its military precision, growing out into a small afro, while a smattering of stubble adorned his chin.

His familiar features had morphed into something different yet unmistakably the same. Despite this, Dominic's conviction remained unshaken— this was Key.

The old woman stirred from her slumber, her wizened eyes slowly opening to reveal surprise at the unexpected sight of Dominic.

Confusion clouded her expression as she peered at him, a deep frown etching itself across her mouth. With a swift motion, she reached out to switch on the lamp by the bedside, casting a soft glow over the room.

"Who are you? What are you doing here?" She asked firmly.

"I am deeply sorry, Ma'am," Crystal began to apologize, but her words were interrupted by the solemn tone of Dominic's voice.

"I know him," he whispered, his gaze drifting back to Key's sleeping form. "He's... my friend."

A heavy silence settled over the room, Dominic's words hanging in the air like an unspoken truth, casting a weighty tension upon them all. The steady rhythm of the machines served as the sole backdrop to the tense atmosphere, punctuating the stillness with each measured beep.

Amid his uncertainty, Dominic clung stubbornly to his belief that this man was Key. Despite the rational doubts that tugged at his mind, an inexplicable certainty rooted itself within him, refusing to be swayed by mere possibility.

Key had once cryptically claimed to be a ghost, yet here he lay in the hospital bed, undeniably breathing, undeniably real. The idea that this man could simply be a relative or even a doppelgänger felt inadequate in the face of Dominic's intuition.

"I don't know what kind of game you're playing, young man, but I suggest you leave before I call security," the woman's voice crackled with anger, her frustration palpable.

Dominic hesitated, grappling with the impossibility of the situation. "It's the truth," he insisted. "But it's hard to explain."

Crystal had vanished from the doorway unnoticed by Dominic. The woman's pained expression continued as she made way for the hospital phone.

"He- he has this black shirt," Dominic began, his hand instinctively gesturing to his own attire as if to lend credibility to his words. "With an alligator on it. And he wears thick combat boots."

The woman's eyebrows shot up in disbelief, her face draining of all color as she froze. As Dominic observed her more closely, the details of her features became clearer. She bore the unmistakable marks of age, with dark circles etched beneath her tired eyes and wrinkles tracing the passage of time across her face.

She bore a resemblance to Key, albeit in a softer, more feminine way. They shared an undeniable likeness, suggesting a bond that transcended mere coincidence.

"H-how do you..." the elderly woman began to stammer, but her words were abruptly cut off by Crystal, who had returned with her mother in tow.

"What's happening here?" Mrs. Norbrooke's voice was sharp as she flicked on the hospital light, momentarily blinding everyone in the room.

"Dominic, you shouldn't be here. And Mrs. Lowe, I thought you had left already. Visiting hours ended a while ago," she scolded in exasperation.

Too many strange things had happened to Dominic since meeting Key and Celia for him to simply dismiss this as mere absurdity.

How could he possibly explain the inexplicable to anyone else? They would undoubtedly question his sanity. Joel could very well use this as a good reason to send him off to an asylum for good.

But as much as Dominic would love to deny it all, he knew that there was more to this mystery than meets the eye. He hoped once Key had appeared again, this could all be properly explained.

"What am I doing? I'm so sorry, Ma'am. It must be the allergic reaction that has gotten me confused," he gestured to the welts on his face. "Once again, I apologize."

As he took the first step to leave, the unconscious man grabbed onto his wrist causing an audible gasp from everyone in the room.

Dominic watched in shock, horror, and confusion as Key's eyes slowly blinked open and his mouth whispered his name.

"Dom-nic," he spoke, his eyes falling shut once more as his grip loosened to his side again.

"Sweet heavenly, Jesus!" the old woman exclaimed, her voice trembling with disbelief.

"I'll fetch the doctor," Mrs. Norbrooke urgently declared as she darted out of the room without hesitation.

Dominic remained frozen in place, his mind awash with shock.

There was no denying it now– this man was Key. Yet, the question persisted, gnawing at Dominic's thoughts like an insistent whisper: How on earth was any of this possible?

Crystal's brow furrowed in concern, her gaze fixed on the emotional scene unfolding before them. Tears welled in the old woman's eyes as she gently covered her mouth, her trembling hand reaching out to grasp Key's.

"You're almost there, my sweet boy. Just please come back to me," her words were a desperate plea as her voice choked with emotions.

A knot tightened in Dominic's throat as he struggled to process the whirlwind of events unfolding before him. Words eluded him, leaving him devoid of answers, both for others and for himself.

Before he could gather his thoughts, Crystal seized his hand, pulling him out of the room and through the hospital doors.

Once outside, she released his hand and whirled around to face him. "What in the world just happened?" she demanded, her voice tinged with urgency.

"I-I'm not entirely sure," Dominic stuttered, struggling to articulate his thoughts.

Crystal's eyes bore into him, desperate for answers Dominic couldn't easily disclose. "How do you know that man? Why does he know you?"

Dominic faltered, struggling for an explanation that wouldn't sound utterly absurd.

"That man has been in a coma for 15 years," Crystal continued, her frustration tangible. "You weren't even born when he fell into that state. And yet, today, I witness him miraculously waking up, reaching for your hand, and even saying your name! What exactly is going on?"

Dominic's heart sank at her revelation. "Wait, h-he's been in a coma for 15 years?" he echoed, his voice barely above a whisper, the color draining from his face as the gravity of the situation settled upon him.

Emotions churned like a tempest within Dominic, – disbelief, confusion, and a creeping dread all vying for dominance. An unsettling sense of foreboding overcame him with the weight of this newfound knowledge. It felt as though the very foundation of his world had been shaken, leaving him adrift in a tumultuous sea of uncertainty and unanswered questions.

Dominic hesitated to press Crystal further. He sensed that she might not be the right person to provide the answers he sought. Instead, he felt compelled to seek out the old woman– Key or rather, Chase's relative.

Recalling the woman's reaction to his description of Key's clothing, and considering the astonishment she had displayed during the recent spectacle in the hospital room, Dominic harbored a glimmer of hope that she might be more receptive to his questions. Perhaps she had believed him, or at least entertained the possibility that he was telling the truth, even if it sounded insane.

Deciding it wasn't the opportune moment to press for answers, Dominic opted to ask her the next day. He had to go tell Celia. Perhaps whatever the two were hiding held the key to unraveling this mystery.

"What time are visiting hours?" Dominic's voice was determined.

"They're from 3 to 4. Why do you ask?" Crystal frowned.

"I can't explain everything now, but I promise I'll fill you in once I have all the answers. I just hope you won't think I'm crazy. And I miss our friendship too; I'm sorry I haven't kept in touch. I'll make sure to call from now on. I've got to go," Dominic explained before darting off toward the parking lot.

Arriving at his van, Dominic's heart sank as he found neither Celia nor Key inside. He considered the possibility that Celia had gone inside the hospital to search for him, but when he went back to ask, no one had seen her.

Anxiety gnawed at him as he waited, hoping she would return, but as the minutes stretched into an hour, he reluctantly conceded defeat. Fearing he might have inadvertently left her stranded, Dominic scanned the area one last time before reluctantly departing.

The desire to speak with Celia burned within him, yet he realized he had no way to reach her. He vaguely recalled her once joking about living near the cemetery, but the lack of houses in the vicinity of Maybourne rendered it impossible to follow up on the jest.

With a whirlwind of thoughts swirling in his mind, Dominic reluctantly made his way home. As he stepped onto the front porch, his phone rang, startling him. Crystal's voice echoed through the other line, her words cutting through the silence like a beacon of hope.

"Chase Phillips is awake!" She exclaimed.

"Chase is awake?!" Dominic echoed, his confusion evident as he entered the house. The pungent scent of alcohol hit him like a freight train, causing him to wrinkle his nose in disgust.

Walking further into the dimly lit interior, he found Joel lying sprawled across the kitchen island, his keys dangling loosely from his hand, which rested limply on the wooden countertop. Empty beer bottles littered the floor around him, a testament to the night's indulgence.

Dominic glanced at the time on his phone. It was only 8:30 PM.

Joel's parked truck outside had gone completely unnoticed in the rush of the evening's events that had taken over Dominic's thoughts.

"Hold on," he instructed, his voice tense as he swiftly ascended the stairs before continuing the conversation.

"Key, I mean Chase Phillips, he's awake? Did he say anything?" Dominic's words were barely above a whisper as he closed his door, his heart thumping at the news.

"He's not speaking yet, but my mom says he's communicating through writing. The doctor thinks his speech will return in a couple of days," Crystal replied.

Just as Dominic began to express his intention to return to the hospital the next day, the sound of shattering glass halted his words.

"Look, I can't really talk right now. I'll see you tomorrow okay?" Dominic whispered hurriedly, his senses on high alert as he abruptly ended the call after receiving Crystal's acknowledgment.

Slowly, he opened his door to check if Joel was heading upstairs, but the hallway remained empty, shrouded in silence.

Descending the stairs once more, Dominic's gaze fell upon his grandfather's slumbering form sprawled across the table, his large frame twitching in restless sleep.

Startled, Dominic began to retreat upstairs when Joel's groggy voice pierced the air, causing him to freeze in place.

"You've been acting strange lately," Joel muttered, his head slowly rising as he rubbed the drunken sleepiness from his eyes.

Confusion knitted Dominic's brow as he struggled to comprehend Joel's accusation. "What?"

"You're always out gallivanting with your new friends. Have you at least stopped going to the cemetery?" Joel continued, squinting as the harsh light from the kitchen momentarily blinded him.

A sinking feeling settled in the pit of Dominic's stomach. Joel's words struck a nerve, hinting at an unsettling truth that he had been desperately trying to ignore.

He wasn't hallucinating when he saw Joel's vehicle parked outside of the places he went to.

"So you were following me," Dominic retorted, his voice trembling slightly as he struggled to maintain composure. The last thing he wanted was to reveal that this knowledge frightened him.

"Following you? No," Joel dismissed the accusation with a casual wave of his hand as he stooped to pick up one of the empty beer bottles.

"This isn't the usual one I buy. They look so alike, you see," Joel slurred, turning the bottle towards Dominic in a clumsy attempt to offer him a closer look.

Dominic hesitated, his gaze fixed on the shattered glass at his feet, but he made no move to inspect the bottle. Dominic jumped as Joel dropped the bottle he was holding to the floor, a loud shatter sounding throughout the room.

He shot his grandfather a withering glare as he spoke again.

"Who's that girl you're always with? Your girlfriend?" Joel's eyes were lackluster, betraying no emotion as he casually questioned Dominic.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Dominic retorted, squinting at Joel. Uncertain whether he was referring to Crystal or Celia, Dominic's guarded response masked the unease simmering beneath the surface.

Joel chuckled softly, shaking his head as he clumsily stuffed his keys into his pockets and rose from his seat.

Dominic stepped aside, silently observing as his grandfather staggered towards the front door, the sound of its closing echoing through the quiet house.

It was unsettling to witness Joel in such a state, even for Dominic, who had never seen him intoxicated before. Yet, there was a strange sense of satisfaction in the realization that despite Joel's facade of invincibility, he was still subjected to the same vulnerabilities as everyone else.

Dominic's thoughts immediately darted to Key's sudden disappearance. Where could he have vanished to? Alongside those concerns, he wondered if Celia had made it home alright.

Standing at the entrance of his kitchen, a wave of realization washed over Dominic. It dawned on him that these dizzy spells, nightmares, and visions weren't merely figments of his imagination. The familiarity of the woods, the sterile white walls, the wildflowers, and the rhythmic beeping sounds reminiscent of his dreams— they all felt like memories.

Yet, despite this awareness, Dominic's mind remained clouded with unanswered questions. Why was he experiencing these nightmares and visions? What do they have to do with Celia and Key?  The mysteries surrounding his newfound connection left him struggling to understand and desperate to unravel the enigma that had unexpectedly entwined his life with theirs.

Why him?

Lost in his thoughts, Dominic was jolted back to reality by a sudden knock at the front door. Absentmindedly, he made his way to answer it, his mind still trying to coalesce everything he knew.

"Dominic!" Key's urgent voice interrupted, pushing past him and into the house.

Dominic's focus snapped into sharp clarity at the sight of Key's incredulous appearance. "Key! What on earth happened? At the hospital.. y-you—" Dominic started to say, but Key cut him off.

"I can't stay for long," Key interjected, his words rushed as his flickering intensified.

"I think this is happening because I'm waking up. My memory is coming to me in pieces in this form but I need you to listen to me," Key managed to utter before he abruptly vanished, only to reappear moments later.

"I'm running out of time. The key is here!" Key's urgent words echoed through the room, the intensity of it sending a shiver down Dominic's spine before he vanished once more.

And just like in the van, he didn't appear again.

————————————————————