Work Text:
Your eyes were getting heavy after staring at the pages of your book for so long. Reading was your favorite pastime, especially when you were at work. Being an at-home caregiver was fulfilling, but at times could be either stressful or boring.
This was one of those boring times.
You loved your patient, Sam. He was an older man, well into his eighties. You could tell by just looking at him that he’d been handsome in his youth, the smile lines on his face deep and the friendliness in his eyes sincere. There were some days that you just sat at his bedside, talking with him about his life for hours.
He had the most fantastical stories. You weren’t sure some days if he really believed the things he told you – stories of monsters and angels, heaven and hell. Maybe it was an old man’s imagination, or maybe there was actually some truth behind it.
You couldn’t be sure.
All you knew was that Sam was a good man and you enjoyed working for him.
He was the one who encouraged you to read so much. He had more books than anyone you’d ever met, his house full of them. He’d tell you to read one of them, then once you’d finished it he’d talk with you about it for hours.
He had a sharp mind, that was for sure. It was just his body that was giving out on him.
You decided to give your eyes a bit of a rest and check on him, as it had been a couple hours since you’d been in the room. You marked your page and walked to his door, seeing him laying quietly in his bed. He had a picture in his hand, the one you’d seen him hold many times. It was his family, or his adoptive family. His parents had died early in his life, but he had many friends and mentors who were just as strong family as his own brother, who had passed nearly a decade ago.
When Sam noticed you at the door, he gave you a soft smile. “Y/N,” he croaked, coughing when the word angered his throat. Immediately you were by his side, offering him some water. He sipped it slowly before relaxing back against his pillows, smiling again. “Been reading?” he asked.
You smiled and nodded. “Yes, I’m nearly done. My eyes need a break though, care for some food?”
Sam nodded and you mentally reviewed what was in the kitchen. “Soup or a BLT?” you asked him.
“BLT please,” he answered. “Extra on the L-T,” you recited with him, the two of you smiling. He always asked for extra lettuce and tomato on his sandwich, you knew.
You squeezed his hand before heading back for the door. “Y/N,” he said, making you pause. You looked back to see him smiling at you still. “Thank you for everything.”
The way he said it made your heart lurch, feeling like there was more to his words than just a thank-you. Was that a goodbye you heard in his voice? You shook your head and forced another smile.
“Oh, Sam, it’s my pleasure,” you answered him sincerely. He closed his eyes and you went to the kitchen, making his sandwich just how he liked it.
When you returned, it was to find Sam not breathing, the smile gone from his face. His hand was clutched loosely at his chest holding the picture, giving you an idea of what happened even as you dialed 911.
When the paramedics arrived, they confirmed what you suspected. Sam had suffered a silent heart attack, leaving you to join his family. The tears slipped from your eyes of their own accord, wishing you had had more time with your favorite patient before he left you forever.