Jayce reeled in pain from the impact to his forehead; a trickle of blood beginning to drip slowly down his nose. He stumbles as his feet entangle themselves in the strap of the satchel bag, dropped only moments before. The scene plays itself backwards through his mind as he in turn falls backwards onto the grey carpeted floor surrounded by the horrified faces of those unlucky enough to witness a man shot right between the eyes.

The twenty-five year old has not lost his balance yet, as his red hair echoes the plume of light and fire emanating from the dirty revolver a mere meter from his face. The bullet extracts itself from Jayce's furrowed brow as it spirals back toward the fiery muzzle, finally pushing the flash back down into the barrel as the gun pulls down from recoil. The barely audible shout from his mouth now plain to everyone as the gunshot returns it's deafening roar to the casing slowly spinning around in it's own little chamber.

Jayce's movements are quick even in this bastardisation of time and space that is his memory; he pulls himself back, leaping away from the woman cowering in front of the gunman whose eyes are soulless and rage-filled. The gunman is moving in reverse too, slowly stepping away from the woman as his grimace begins to resemble a grin. Jayce's steps decrease in purpose as his body slows down a few meters from the scene unfolding.

A few well placed steps and the firey-haired man is now leaping backwards over the counter, his hand contorted into an odd position on the laminated surface from his haste as he twists mid-air landing behind the register as the gunman raises his weapon to the roof, striding in reverse, each step as solidly placed as the last. Smoke pours into the barrel as plaster lazily rises to the ceiling.

Another gunshot builds from a rumble to a roar as fire once more erupts back into the gun, Jayce's eyes blinking confused as he taps away at the touchscreen in front of him. The plaster forms itself neatly into a ceiling tile as the bullet plunges earthwards into the barrel of the revolver; the sound ever increasing until all but silence.


----

Jayce awoke with a start. His vision was blurry. Everything was too bright. Nothing smelled right. Nothing felt right.
"Am I dead?" he thought aloud, staring at what he assumed to be some kind of bed. He raised a hand to his head in panic. His fingers were not met with a halo, but instead with gauze. "Fuck." Heaven wouldn't have bandages.
Blinking his sight into submission he began to make out the familiar signs of a hospital; the horrid blue separator screen around his bed pulled tight to stop prying eyes, the myriad of machinery measuring his every movement both internal and external, an all-together too sterile vase of fake flowers mocking him from the bedside table, and a clipboard poking out above the foot of the metallic structure he was lying on.

Summoning an incredible amount of willpower Jayce pulled himself up and leaned forward reaching out towards the clipboard, feeling just about every muscle in his body scream from the effort before falling back into the comfort of a pillow victorious. Blinking once more to focus closer, he took stock of the doctor's mostly illegible scribblings. Rereading his diagnosis a few times out of shock, he let the plastic and paper slip from his hands as once again he reached up to the bandage, fingers trembling as he attempted to find some way to remove it.

A man in a white coat flung open the blue screen, bathing Jayce in the harsh fluorescent lights of the hospital hallway. He stood not much taller than Jayce at a little over two meters, his height accentuated by the suspenders barely visible beneath his hospital garb. Bespectacled with black hair combed back, this man seemed to have been pulled directly from the fifties, moreso as he straightened his bright red tie.

"Now you don't want to go messing about with that, mate." He said, reaching over to remove Jayce's curious fingers from the bandage wrapped around his head. "You were lucky enough to survive the gunshot, don't wanna pull that off only for it to get infected." The man mused as he began looking over the instruments linked up to Jayce's arms.

"What..." Jayce was still somewhat in a daze. Memories were still slowly coming back. He struggled to pull himself upright in the bed, much to the worried frown of the doctor. A person in blue scrubs strode in from around the curtain before the doctor could answer, trading sentences in a conversation that sounded half English and half Algebra.

After the brief exchange the man in blue strode off purposefully as the doctor returned his attention to Jayce once more, spotting the clipboard on his lap. "Ah," he said, picking it up "I see we've been doing a little reading." Flipping through the contents himself before placing it back in the holder at the foot of the bed, the Doctor motioned to Jayce's head "It's not uncommon for severe head trauma to instill some amount of cognitive difficulty. To be honest," he said, leaning down to the puzzled redhead "I wasn't sure if you'd ever break the coma."

"How long?" Jayce managed to sputter out as he once again reached for his head, the doctor relaxing as he felt around his jaw, the hairs of his beard having grown only slightly.

"Five days." Came the reply "You were brought straight here from the cinema." He chuckled, quickly regaining composure as he explained "The TV's calling you a 'True Action Hero'." He pulled a newspaper from the top draw of the bedside table, thrusting it towards the bedridden Jayce. "Thought you might like a copy."

Sure enough the front page is taken up entirely by a still frame from the cinema's security camera, lucky enough to catch the gun firing at Jayce as he's captured frozen mid-air between the gunman and a woman with her hands clutched over her head in fear, the bullet a greyish streak circled in red. Dozens of onlookers stare in open mouthed horror at the scene, a few with their phones out filming everything. The title in big bold letters "Real Life Action Hero".

Skimming the article Jayce rearranged his memories to that of the events; a gunman entered the cinema where Jayce was working, first firing a shot into the ceiling before aiming down his sights at a woman, when Jayce jumped the counter, leaping in front of the gun and getting shot in the process. From there on the story unfolded somewhat more dramatically than he could've imagined. The gun then mis-fired the third round, burning the man's hand as a money van security guard burst into the cinema lobby, took aim and fired several rounds at the man, with the only stray bullet striking another cinema staff member in the arm. Both cinema workers were taken to hospital with Mia - the other cinema worker - only needing minor surgery on her arm and Jayce fighting for his life in a coma.

Jayce stared at the paper trying to take it all in. "Where-"

"Mia got through surgery fine." The doctor pre-empted Jayce's question accurately as he continued to fuss over one of the slightly more noisy machines. "She was released yesterday, but wanted to know when you were better so she could come to visit. If that's okay with you." he stared at Jayce from over the top of his glasses with a mischievous grin. Flipping one final set of switches, he turned his attention back to Jayce, standing arms akimbo as he backs out of the semi-enclosed space. "Rest up. Now that you're awake, I'm sure you're going to be pestered by all manner of media over the next few days." He flicked a finger over to something behind Jayce's head "Hit that button if you need anything, or if they get too annoying."

And with that the bespectacled doctor reached for the blue curtains, drawing them closed to leave Jayce once again in his partially-lit space of strange smells and odd sounds. The beeping of the machines at the side of his bed drowned out the other noises, sending him back to sleep.

"Heya" a familiar face poked it's way through the blue curtain. Jayce smiled as he opened his eyes, the visage of Mia slowly focusing before him. She stood near six feet tall, which only made her curves that much more pronounced. Like Jayce her complexion was quite fair, but unlike his somewhat unruly dirty-brown hair, hers was a beautiful chestnut colour, wavy from follicle to tip and reaching well below her shoulders. Her larger-than-average hips and cleavage drawn tight around a relatively average - but toned -  waist in a wonderful example of an Art Nouveau hourglass figure. The whole image only slightly offset by her left arm resting in a sling.

Mia's large green/brown eyes shone with a brightness Jayce had never seen before as she shuffled through the tight space to his bed. "Hey-" Jayce responded with a slight rasp in his voice. She seemed to find the break in tone amusing, so clearing his throat he tries again. "Heya, how's it going?"

"How's it going?" Mia sits down on the bed near Jayce's waist. "How's it- You got shot in the head!" Jayce smiles and shrugs, his eyes attempting in vain to look at the wound.

"I got better." He utters, Mia's retort being a punch to the shoulder with her good arm. A sucker for punishment Jayce couldn't help let slip another Pythonism "It's only a flesh wound." Smiling, he cringed expecting another punch.

But the punch never came. Instead, Mia flung herself at him, doing her best to land as gently as possible on the bedridden workmate, pulling him up to her in a big one-armed hug. Jayce felt a tear drop onto his neck as he summoned his strength to hug her tightly in return. A soft voice full of emotion seeped into Jayce's ear; "Thank you."

Taking a moment to continue the hug, Jayce finally released his grip on Mia as she gave him one last squeeze before sitting up. Mouth opening to ask Mia a question, Jayce was beaten to it with the answer. "The woman you saved is my mother." The words filtered through his mind until they found meaning. A quick flash of panic crossed his face as he was beaten to the punch again. "Don't worry, she's fine; shaken but fine." Running her hand through her gorgeous hair Mia took a deep breath before continuing. "That guy was a nutcase who thought Mum was his ex, and followed her to the movies. Thank the gods you were there-" Mia crashed back down into a hug as Jayce pulled her close.

Jayce's arms wrapped around the woman's curvy frame so tightly that one hand met her protected arm. Feeling down her wrist he finally found Mia's soft hand. Squeezing tightly, she returned the gesture and grasped his hand too, their knuckles interlocking. Jayce lay there with the gorgeous lady atop him, embracing him tightly, wishing he could lay with her like this forever.

Just then an intense pressure began to build in Jayce's head, a blinding pain searing the innermost portions of his brain as he scrunched his eyes closed, pulling Mia in tighter. All he could feel was the warmth of her body on him and the pain in his mind, she was so close he could even feel her heart pounding against his chest. Everything begun to get dark.

And then there was light.

So much light.

Jayce didn't remember opening his eyes, but he must have at some point. Or maybe he didn't. His mind was scattered as he stared off into the empty space in front of him, white as far as the eye could see.

"Ummm..." the voice behind him nearly caused Jayce to jump out of his skin, whirling around to find Mia standing there confused was the last thing Jayce expected. "Where are we?" She continued, moving closer to him. Her hand once again joins with his but quickly slips Jayce's grasp as she inspected her arm. No sling. She rolled up her sleeve. No wound. She reached over to Jayce, rubbing a thumb over his forehead "What's... Where?..." she stumbled back and forth over various words trying to vocalize some sense into the world.

With both of them standing there in their work uniforms – a dull black ensemble of long-sleeve shirt and pants- Jayce's feet began to ache. A chair appeared. "Odd..." he said, reaching over to it and sitting down. Again his instincts got the better of him, and after only the briefest of moments thinking about chapped lips, a bottle of water materialised in front of him. Mia had noticed these two miracles and grabbed the bottle first, the cap opening with a pop as she inspected it with the same enthusiasm as her arm. She stared at Jayce with a look both accusatory and questioning.

"What's going on?" she demands. "What the fucking hell is going on?!?" The bottle gets flung off into the distance, disappearing into the white nothingness as Jayce sat on the edge of his chair. Mia stepped over to him, grabbing his arm and pulling him out of the chair. "And how do we-"

Darkness.

"-get back?"

Mia was once again atop the bedridden Jayce, both of them looking as confused as the other.

"Did you just..." they both muttered, knowing the answer just by looking at each other. Mia regained her composure, standing up as Jayce sat up altogether too fast, falling back onto the bed dizzily.

"Wait..." he muttered as she turned to leave. "What happened?"

"I- I don't know." Mia ran her fingers through her hair hurriedly, uncomfortable with the way this visit had turned out. Beginning to hyperventilate she sat down on the bed again, Jayce moving slower this time to lean in over to her, shuffling around beneath the sheets until he was sitting beside Mia, his arm around her.

"It's okay." He cooed into her ear. "Whatever it was, we're back here now." She looked at him in a way he'd never seen before. Unsure of how to react, Jayce did what he always did in these situations. He talked. "Well something happened. I don't know about you but I saw white as far as the eye could see."

"And neither of us were hurt." Mia chimed in, intrigued by Jayce's knowledge of what she had just experienced.

"And you threw my water away..." Jayce mused, hugging Mia with one arm jokingly while in his own mind the phrase 'shared delusion' raced around. "You owe me an imaginary water." This got a chuckle out of her, which was enough to get Jayce to make a bold move. "I wanna try something." He held out his free hand to her palm up.

"Uh..."

"I don't know what happened, but for science?" Mia just looked at him concerned. "You don't have to if you don't want to."

Mia met his gaze, then stared at his now outstretched hand. "I don't know..."

Jayce withdrew, sighing. He was disappointed, but did not want to press the matter. Smiling he said "Maybe another time-"

A hand darted out towards his, her eyes closed Mia whispered "Somewhere nice."

The blinding pain smacked Jayce in the head again as he closed his eyes to the oncoming darkness.

The sounds of an ocean beach assaulted Jayce's fragile mind; seagulls squawking endlessly as the tide rolled across the sand. A light pierced through his closed eyelids as he felt the breeze flow across his naked torso.

"Summer break." Mia's voice broke Jayce from his pain-induced stupor. He opened his eyes and took in the sight of Mia standing in a Bikini looking out over the rolling dunes, scanning one end of the horizon to the other. "I remember this. Everyone else went up to the sunshine coast except me. I couldn't afford it." She admitted, slumping down on the sand next to Jayce who was in contrast wearing a pair of unfamiliar and incredibly ugly boardshorts. Spotting the fashion disaster of neon colours and palm trees Mia chuckled "And I remember seeing those beauties in the shop on the way here."

"Thanks for sharing the experience." Jayce muttered with a smile, intrigued by the patterns of the cheap material. He looked his workmate over, spying a large birthmark on her side. Noticing his gaze Mia blushed and moved to hide it, but before she could it faded away, as if someone had wiped it off with stain remover. "How did..."

"Wha- Where'd it go?" Mia stretched and contorted her body trying to find the mark as if it had migrated, but was unable to do so.

"It just... faded..." Jayce had a look of puzzlement on his face of almost the same intensity of Mia's. "It's nothing to be, y'know,"

"Ashamed of?" Mia's puzzlement turned to anger. "Was that what you were going to say?"

"Not quite as bluntly. You know what they say; scars add character."

"It's not a scar." She blurted out. "It's not- it's just a stupid birthmark. And ever since third grade I've not lived it down. So let's not talk about it okay?"

Jayce nodded, hating himself for hitting a sore spot. "Summer break eh?" he tried changing the subject in the hopes of forcing Mia to step off the defensive. "Alone on a beach? Sounds fun."

"Har har." Mia's words were ripe with sarcasm.

"No, I'm being serious." Jayce shifted in the sand until he was facing Mia, taking a moment to stare at her wavy hair and gorgeous brown eyes. "I like taking time off to chill out on my own. Have you found the back stairs to the roof yet?" Mia raised an eyebrow and shook her head. "Next to the Projection stairs there's a door marked 'Storage C'."
"Yeah, that's where we keep the paint and stuff right?"

"Yep, and they never bother to check if it's locked." Jayce grinned mischievously as he stared down at the sand. "It's been unlocked for nearly three months now. At the back past the shelves of spare seat parts is an unlabelled door with a broken lock. Roof access." Picking up a shell, Jayce hurled it off into the waves with a victorious smile. "Check it out sometime. I go there on my breaks."

Mia raises a finger. "I've always wondered about that. I never see you leave for break."

"Now you know!" the heroic accent he adopted caused Mia to giggle, and he used this brief pause to slide a little closer to the buxom figure. She didn't flinch, instead turning in towards him; a motion Jayce couldn't ignore as his mind did somersaults with glee.

Mia once again adopted a more serious tone. "So what is going on? We can't be at the coast, we were just in the hospital."

Jayce sighed, the moment broken for now. "I'm not sure. Before when I wanted a chair it just appeared. Instantly, you know?" he looked to Mia for a response, but got none. "I've been thinking for the last few minutes that I want a towel to lie on, but nothing."

"A towel?" Mia asked, looking down towards Jayce's boardies and the sand below. Just then, the various granules formed into multi-coloured fluffiness underneath the man's form. "Woah..."

"Wait wait," Jayce stood up, pacing across the warm midday beach in small circles; his feet letting out cute squeaks as the dry sand compressed beneath him "you said something before we ended up here."

Mia thought for a moment then blushed. "Somewhere Nice. I said 'Somewhere Nice'."

Jayce let that mull over for a moment, before pushing it into his long term memory. "Well, we're here; 'Somewhere Nice'. Before when we were somewhere white I'd thought..." He paused mid sentence, realising the road he was leading himself down. Sighing, Jayce threw caution to the wind; "When you hugged me earlier, I thought- I thought about never wanting it to end." He plonked himself down on the sand next to Mia, his feelings partially confessed. "I just... yeah."

Jayce looked up into Mia's eyes, their brown and green hues almost moving as she leaned in towards him. Before he could react, their lips met with a bolt of electricity that shot straight up Jayce's spine. As quickly as it had begun it was over, Mia now nose-to-nose with the red-haired man as he slowly blinked himself out of his lust filled mindset. "Continue..." she mused, shifting her weight to place a hand on his.

"Um..." Jayce caught his breath as he tries to re-engage his train of thought. "Yeah, so, before, I made things happen after wanting to go somewhere, and now you bring us here and I guess you're in control."

"So you're saying I can do whatever I want?" Mia's voice lifted with an odd mix of mischievousness, interest and excitement.

"Technically yeah. I'm no neurologist - or psychic - but I think we're in your mind."

"What?"

"Well, this is your memory, and you're able to make things happen. Before we were probably in my mind. So, yeah." Jayce moved on the towel, shifting his weight so his hands were holding onto Mia's.

"So in my mind is a seascape and your mind is... blank..." Mia says in a syrupy voice tinged with sarcasm. "That's gotta be saying something..."

"Very funny." Jayce quipped, as he rolled his eyes. He smiled, returning to his previous line of thought. "What is something you've always wanted but never got for whatever reason. Anything at all, just picture it on that dune there."

Mia cracked a nervous smile. "Seriously?" Before Jayce could respond, a crunching noise of a million particles of sand rearranging focused the pair's attention on the dune behind them. Slowly the sand began to shift into a plethora of different materials. In a matter of seconds a large silver machine with pipes, knobs and flashing lights had taken shape. "But..."

"Is- Is that what I think it is?" Jayce sat open-mouthed as Mia seemed to panic, grabbing his hand and squeezing it; the sand flashing out of existence, the machine destroyed as quickly as it was created.

Darkness.

Jayce blinked awake with enough time to see Mia open the blue curtain, turning back to him with a strange look in her eye.

"Was that what I thought it was?" He managed to say, his voice still raspy. Mia's look of confusion and desperation turned to shock and fear while Jayce's memory was jogged by the previous month's B-Movie Marathon flashing through. The large machine seemed familiar and despite being entirely out of place on the sand dune, Mia could tell from the man's smile he recognised what it was.

"Nobody... Tell- tell nobody, please." And with those few words she was gone.

"Tell who?" Jayce added to the empty space, the curtain still swishing from his friends quick exit.


-----

The doctor's Bowtie was bright red and crooked against his blue shirt. It took Jayce a significant amount of willpower not to correct the angle. "Turns out the gunman forged bullets, which 'Lead' to the gun misfiring.' He grinned cheekily at the terrible pun while pointing to the CAT Scan and the associated pattern of black and white striations across the center of it. 'It fragmented upon contact with your skull - that's those bits - causing a fair bit of damage."

"Wonderful."' Jayce muttered.

"Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit Mr. Winslow." The Doctor spoke back to the bed-ridden man over his glasses.

"Oscar Wilde?"

"Nope," the doctor stated proudly as if expecting Jayce's answer "but it's been attributed to him nonetheless. Like 'Beam me up Scotty' or 'Play it again, Sam'." He turned back to the image of Jayce's Brain. "Memory loss, lack of motor functions, shouldn't be too much you can't handle. Given the tests we've done, chances are you'll just have the occasional moment where you can't remember names, faces or words. Nothing you technologically infatuated Gen-Y-ers don't already have in abundance."

"Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit remember." Jayce says with a grin.

"Doesn't make it any less funny." The Doctor tucked the scan into an envelope and placed it on the bedside table. He took a seat at the end of Jayce's bed, removing his glasses as he visibly entered 'frank doctor mode'. "It's a miracle you're alive, let alone walking and talking. I know a dozen people in this hospital alone that would keep you here for tests because of that. I still want you back here for the occasional test and weekly check-in, but it's my opinion that unless you plan on going on a roller coaster or competing in a motocross tournament anytime soon, you being out there will be no different than being in here."

"So I'm clear to go?" Jayce's heart raced at the notion of freedom.

"I'll clear it with the nurses, but you should be able to check out this afternoon. I can tell you're absolutely itching to get back to work.."

"Huh?"

"Technologically Infatuated, remember." the man said, pointing to Jayce's phone. "Every time I see you you're staring longingly at that phone. And that Mia girl works with you right?" Jayce began to protest, but began blushing instead. "Thought so. Come back and see me if you have any problems outside simple forgetfulness. Once we've figured out the best way to remove those fragments, we'll call you back in. Until then, I'll organise the usual psych appointments and so on. You'll be bored to tears, but it's for the best."

"Thank you." Jayce uttered as the Doctor disappeared through the blue curtain, an outstretched hand giving a thumbs up trailing behind him before it too was enveloped by the curtain.