Just like that, a light pierced the darkness like a spear, ripping Dallas from complete comatose in a violent manner, or at least inside his head. It's was full of rage and anger, love and jealousy.... How a light could have such qualities was a mystery to Dallas, but that's what he felt. His brain just went "pop, you're okay now," as if nothing had happened, as if some unforeseen work of God.

Back in the fleshy, his right leg began to spasm in the hospital bed. Not violently,but enough to show something was wrong and signal a reaction from everyone in the room... To not notice the writhing leg would probably mean blindness, or even deafness. Then it stopped, and repeated in his left leg, then stopped again. His toes curled, his hands turned into fists, his lips contorted into something like a smirk. Then once again his body relaxed.

Then the light from his dreams, that harsh light, faded into hospital light as he opened his eyes to a room full of strangers and old friends. He wore a compassionate look on his face, something that was oddly out of place for Mr. Robertson. His lips curled into a very slight smile, one a mother gave a hurting child to calm them down. He didn't know why he felt good, maybe because he'd been sleeping for freaking ever.

Then that voice from the comma rang in his ears again. [i]"Heaven is waiting, but first you must die,"[/i] and suddenly he was aware of things he dreamt of in his coma. Images of war, blood, and a strange light that had a familiarity to it, but was unearthly, and tinged with an ominous future. Demons. The dead, the dying... Six... No, seven people.

Dallas looked on in a smile as people would start saying things and he'd have to respond. But something told him they only had a few minutes.