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The sterile smell of the hospital is slowly getting to him, but he can push it out of his mind.
The constant beeping and whirring of the machines in the room drown out any other noises, but that means he’s still alive so he can accept it.
The moment he thinks the tears have stopped, he’ll look up again and the pale face and closed eyes laying on the hospital bed. He’ll think about how the only thing he wants in this world is to see those beautiful blue eyes looks at him again. Then the floodgates open again, but that’s okay, that’s normal.
What’s driving him the craziest though is the fact that he can’t hear his voice. His voice, his touch, his presence, it’s not there in the sleeping body on the bed, not matter how long he sits there and waits. Bitty has been sitting in the plastic chair keeping vigil for so long that it has probably molded to his body at this point. He still sits there, every day, sometimes bringing in things to read to him (usually something to do with history), sometimes waiting with other members of the team and family, but a good majority of the time he’s just sitting there. Waiting.
Waiting for Jack Zimmerman.
It wasn’t even hockey that put him in the hospital, in this coma. It was a car accident of all things, just a simple trip to the grocery store and a semi-truck running a red light and his boyfriend was in the hospital.
The first few visits had been a lot of tears and frustration, even some people yelling at each other. Tensions were high and every conversation was a land mine. It wasn’t until Bitty raised his own voice at his own former and current teammates that things calmed down a little. It seemed that they had all made some sort of rotation amongst themselves to come visit since there was a limit on visitors anyway. Shitty had just left, he’d sat there chirping at Jack most of time, commenting on who the lazy one was now.
Bitty leaned his head back in the chair with a sigh, debating whether he wanted to brave the crappy vending machine snacks again to keep himself awake. He’d at least come up with a new segment for his vlog, how to improve said snacks, but they were still disgusting. Sliding forward in his chair, he stared at Jack for a few long moments before reaching out to take his hand, a familiar gesture before and after the accident.
“Jack.” He spoke, his quiet voice sounding a little too loud in the room. “Jack, honey. I know you have a reason for not being awake yet. I know you take your time with…well…everything.” Despite the circumstances Bitty found himself letting out a little chuckle. “But,” his voice broke on this word, “if you could maybe s-speed things along here? You’ve got a lot of people waiting on you and I think the boys would enjoy you chirping them back, no matter what they say.” He gripped the cold hand tighter, the tears flowing freely down his cheeks once again. “Jack. You know I’ll wait for you, no matter what it is, no matter how long it would take, I’ll wait. C-could you give me some sort of sign though, sweetheart? Something that will…I don’t…”
Bitty sighed as he trailed off, not even sure what he was asking of Jack. He knew what he wanted, he wanted Jack to open his eyes and tell him everything would be alright. He wanted Jack to calm his anxieties and fears. He just plain wanted Jack. Deciding that taking a walk would be a good idea, even if it was to the vending machines, Bitty squeezed Jack’s hand once more and turned around to walk out of the room.
He couldn’t tear his hand away though. It was being squeezed back.
It was being squeezed back.
“J-jack?” Bitty turned to look back with wide eyes, his heartbeat increasing rapidly as he saw some movement on Jack’s face, eyelids fluttering slightly before they finally opened and he was staring into those beautiful blue eyes again.
“Eric…” His voice was so faint but it reached Bitty’s ears immediately and he quickly threw his arms around Jack’s neck, burying his nose in the crook of his neck, tears staining the unflattering hospital gown he was wearing. “Bitty…”Jack’s voice was drenched in emotion as he slowly reached a hand up and let it rest on the smaller man’s hair.
It took a few moments for Bitty to calm down and be able to form coherent sentences. He finally pulled back, eyes puffy and rimmed with red, and focused on Jack with an intense stare. “Jack. Laurent. Zimmerman. You are not allowed to EVER scare me like that again. EVER.” Jack smiled softly and couldn’t really do much more besides nod. Bitty leaned in to hug him again and whispered fiercely against his ear, “I’m so glad you’re awake, baby. I’m so glad.” He pulled again and planted a quick kiss on Jack’s forehead before saying, “Alright, I’m going to go find one of the nurses to them know you’re awake. They’ve been worried sick about you too.”
A few nurse and a doctor came in to fuss over Jack and Bitty stayed in the room as much as he could. Once he cleared some of the immediate health checks it was clear he was going to fall back asleep. One of the nurses made a joke about a coma making you sleepy and then looked over at Bitty with a knowing smile. “That one kept constant watch over you, Mr. Zimmerman. He even asked us to bend the rules for him a couple of times with visiting hours.”
“Shelia, don’t act like you didn’t get anything for that. I have made plenty of peach pies for the break room.”
The nurse laughed as she rolled the cart she’d come in with over to the door. “I’m just telling him about how luck he is to have someone like you, Eric.” Jack smiled once again at Bitty who had sat back down in the uncomfortable plastic chair and was holding Jack’s hand, running his thumb over his knuckles.
“Yeah.” He croaked out, his voice still strange from disuse. “I’m pretty lucky to have this boy. My boy.”
The nurse rolled her eyes good-naturedly as she walked out of the room muttering something about young love as Jack fell back asleep.
This time both Jack and Bitty knew that he would wake up soon.
Bitty knew he would see those blue eyes soon.