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“Beep, beep, beep.” The whine of the machine plays the steady heartbeat of the comatose man. His brown hair sprawled out over the pillow, a contrast to the pristine white of the hospital.The mask over his face connected to another machine supplying him with oxygen. His head is carefully bandaged and his face is relaxed-looking peacefully asleep.
Nearby is another brown-haired man sitting in a hard metal chair next to his friend’s bedside. His hands are clasped in a half-prayer and he gently sobs into them.
“Come on King. Come on Techno. You, you gotta get up,” he croaked, his voice betraying his emotions. He furiously wipes at his tears and tries again to steady his voice. “You gotta get up, remember? We have a DnD session planned. You were going to escape the prison, remember?”
The comatose man does not move.
“Come on. You can’t. You can’t do this.” He runs his hand through his hair and with a strained voice, he corrects himself. “I… I can’t do this… without you… you gotta get up, mate.”
“Mr. Soot?” a nurse calls, entering the room.
The crying man snaps his head up. “Yea. Um, that’s me.”
“We need you to sign a few papers for Mr. Te—”
“Don’t!” he interrupts, wide-eyed. “Don’t say his name. We got sort of a game going where I have to guess his name and,” he trails off.
The nurse smiles brightly. “Of course, Mr. Soot. Would you like me to cover up his name for you?”
“You, you can do that? Th- Thank you,” he stutters. “That… that would be appreciated.”
He signs the papers with the help of the nurse when a blonde-haired man bursts into the room.
“He-,” the blond frantically looks around the room. First, to the man lying in the hospital bed and then at the one signing papers. “Oh my god… Tech. Will, I-”
The brunet cuts him off with a desperate hug.
“I’m so sorry. He wasn’t answering and I found him bleeding out in the kitchen and the doctors said I might have been too late and—” his frantic explanations turn to muffled cries as he buries his head into the blond’s shoulder. “God, I’m pathetic,” he whispers.
“Hey, mate.” The blond lightly pushes him off to look at him. “You’re not pathetic. Your friend is injured. You have every right to be upset. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“Good, now can you tell me what happened? And slowly now, please. So, I can understand you.”
The brunet blushes before answering. “You know how we were planning the next session for Sunday? I was double-checking with Techno that he was still good for DnD and his schedule was fine for it. And he didn’t answer so I assumed he was still sleeping so I didn't think about it. Another day goes by and he still hasn’t answered so I go over to his place to see what was up…”
He pauses to take a deep breath before continuing. “And there he was lying in the kitchen with blood all over the counter and floor.” His voice quivers, “God, Phil. I’m such an idiot. If I had checked up on him sooner I could’ve…”
“Mate,” Phil says, gently cupping the brunet’s face. “Don’t think about the what-ifs. What happened, happened. What we need to do right now is be there for our friend.”
“When did you get so wise, old man?”
Said old man protests loudly. “Oi, I’m thirty-three you little shit!” He chases after the brunet who dances away laughing and the world seems a bit brighter.
Whatever happens, they’ll get through as long as they have each other.