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"Please."
Please what? Roy was sleeping, wasn't he?
It was dark, no wait, his eyes were closed. Because he was asleep? Then how could he hear Johnny talking?
"You can't just check out and leave me working with some annoying replacement forever."
Roy wasn't checking out. He'd be on the clock as soon as he woke up. He promised. Silently.
And why was Johnny talking to him while he was asleep anyway? Why was Johnny in his room?
"If you don't wake up soon…" Johnny's voice trailed off. Roy wanted to comfort him. Johnny sounded so down. But that required opening his eyes, and that seemed impossible just then.
Why was it so impossible? Oh, because he couldn't feel anything. His body. His eyes. How to open something when he didn't feel connected to it?
That was a problem for another time. Johnny was starting to fade away, everything was fading away again. Roy was so tired.
"… if you could, please."
Johnny's voice again. Roy could hear him again. He sounded closer. More real.
Everything seemed a little more real. Something was in Roy's mouth, no—his throat. Something all too unwelcome.
Something beeped, there were a lot of beeps, or alarms, bad sounds.
"Hey—!" Johnny yelled too close. "Dix, he's fighting the vent!"
There was noise, more noise, something felt wrong, and crowded and confusing. Roy left again.
"Please, Pally… It's been long enough."
His right hand was warm. Held. Maybe by Johnny's hand?
The rest of him felt cold. Wait, he could feel his body. That was new. Right? But he was… lying down? In bed, yes. Because he's sleeping, he forgot.
"You could wake up any moment. Just open your eyes." Johnny's voice got really close. It tickled Roy's ear. "Before visiting hours are over, preferably."
The tickle brought awareness to more sensations. Like the stiffness of his other arm. Or his massive headache.
If he could open his eyes, or his mouth, maybe he could complain about that.
It hurt so fucking much now that he could feel it. Surely, his brain was going to explode out of his skull.
He managed a whimper.
There was a clatter of noise, and he flinched, his eyes squeezing tight. Wait, his eyes. He could move the lids.
A thin sliver of light, too bright. God, why did it hurt?
"Hey, shh… It's okay. The nurse is in the way." Johnny wasn't holding his hand anymore. He was touching Roy's face, swiping away the wetness.
Was Roy crying? Oh god, if he wasn't already, the pain from the light was enough to start him.
"Can we turn the big lights off?" Johnny must have been psychic, and Roy was so grateful for it.
"Is he—yes, of course." He didn't recognize the nurse's voice. Why was there a nurse? Oh no, was he in the hospital? Of course, that's why Johnny's there. That makes more sense than his bedroom. But why?
He tried to open his eyes again. The slice of light was less intense, but it still stabbed and he tried to turn his head away from it. His head moved maybe an inch, maybe less, and the whole world lurched sickeningly with the movement. Pain traveled deeper and buried behind his eyes and the back of his skull.
He made another sound, involuntary and broken as he clenched his eyes shut again.
Johnny's thumb brushed near his hairline. "I know. I know, Roy. Just hold still, kay? Don't try to move yet."
Hold still. He could definitely do that. The soft touch on his head definitely helped. He was in too much pain to care if he was supposed to be soothed by that or not.
Something touched his wrist. Fingers, smaller, the nurse was moving his stiff arm. Oh, well, if he was in the hospital, it was probably the arm covered in medical stuff. Okay, that made sense.
"This should help a little… the doctor will be in shortly, and he can prescribe more if the pain is still overwhelming."
Roy tried to open his mouth to speak, but nothing came out beyond a quickly aborted moan. He didn't know how to thank her because he was scared to move, lest the pain drive itself deeper and more intense again.
"Ah, don't…. don't force it. Your throat's bound to be sore for a while. You were intubated until a few days ago." Johnny's voice moved as he talked. Away and closer again.
Roy opened his eyes, easier, less stabbing pain this time, and saw Johnny right in front of him, blocking out the worst of the lights. His smile was brilliant, but that was the only part of him that was. He looked terrible. Bags under his tired eyes, hair a mess, and stubble at least two days old.
Roy wanted to ask why, but then Johnny held up a spoon with an ice chip, and Roy took it greedily, thankfully, and sighed as the cool liquid trickled into his throat as it melted on his tongue.
He had questions. So many of them. One more ice chip and then he was pretty sure he could get them out. Why am I here? What happened? How long have I been here? What's wrong with me? What's wrong with you? Why do you look like you haven't slept?
He swallowed the last of the cold, soothing water from the ice and tried to clear his throat. No, bad idea, not doing that again.
"Days?" Was what he managed to get out, rough and dry, and rasping. He sounded like he'd eaten all the smoke at a barbecue instead of the food.
Johnny's smile collapsed. He offered another ice chip before answering.
"The… the tube? Yeah. Until a few days ago. Three days. I've been coming when I'm not working, and they took it out right before I went back on shift, so…" He trailed off. "But you probably want more than that. Like… how many days you've been here?"
Roy wanted to nod. He was scared to move. He blinked slowly and hoped his answer reached Johnny.
"Okay, don't panic." Johnny said, seriously. He waited a moment for Roy to give another blink. "You've been in a coma for about two weeks."
Two weeks?
A coma?
"Why?" God, that scraped painfully. More ice chips, please. And thank god for Johnny already knowing what he needed. He accepted another spoonful of cold ice with a sigh.
"A fire…" Johnny shrugged, looking down at the cup and plastic spoon in his hands. "I was treating a patient out by the squad while you were back inside trying to find a last victim. One of the outside walls fell in. You were under it. Jesus, Roy, we didn't know if we were going to find you or just your body. It was bad."
Roy waited for him to go on, hoping he wouldn't have to prompt for more details. His patience was answered.
"Chet cried when we found you," Johnny tried to laugh. But the smile didn't reach his eyes and faded away too quickly. "Yeah, okay, so did I. Most of you was just banged up, painful but survivable, ya know? It was the skull fracture that scared everyone here. Brackett and Early double-teamed your surgery, aren't you just special."
Skull fracture? Oh.
"Damage?"
"Well, the coma… Doc said the longer you stayed under, the less chance of you coming out. Don't worry about the other stuff. Not yet. I'm just glad you're awake." Johnny sniffed and tried to hide his face.
Yeah, well… you asked nicely. Said please every time I heard you. But talking was exhausting, so Roy just sighed and closed his eyes again.
Not sleeping this time, just relaxing.