Spencer hesitantly follows the nurse leading him down this eerie hallway. Most of the people he sees from glances into the rooms are hooked up to machines. The beeping and soft talking coming from their visitors are the only sounds he picks up on.
Not that he should have expected differently. He's been on the ICU floor of hospitals for cases that involved victims or witnesses that were there. But when you're visiting someone you care about, everything feels and appears so much differently.
The nurse slows, stopping outside a room with the number 4299 written next to the door. "This is her room. As you know already, we like to limit the visitors to two at a time. It seemed like your friends were going to wait and come back later, so it looks like you're the only one right now."
"We tend to encourage shorter visiting times, but understand if you want to spend a little extra time visiting. Just be advised of the times that visitors aren't allowed." She motions to the paper that's stuck on the door.
𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐂𝐔 𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒
𝟕 𝐭𝐨 𝟖 𝐚.𝐦.
𝟏𝟎 𝐭𝐨 𝟏𝟎:𝟑𝟎 𝐚.𝐦.
𝟑 𝐭𝐨 𝟒 𝐩.𝐦.
𝟕 𝐭𝐨 𝟖 𝐩.𝐦.
Please adhere your visiting time around the listed hours daily.
The nurse drops her hand from the door. "Other than that," she turns to face Spencer, "Any questions?"
Spencer wordlessly shakes his head.
"Okay, if there's anything at all you need, or have a question about, just come to the nurse's station, and they should be able to help you out." She gives him a small smile, and then walks away, leaving him standing outside the doorway alone.
After a second of hesitation, he pushes through the doorway, entering the room. Immediately he picks up on the steady beeping and the whirling sound of the ventilator. As goes further into the room though, his attention is set on the bed. His eyes trail up from the end of your hospital bed to blankets covering your legs, to the IV in your arm.
And then,
You.
It feels like a punch in the gut when he sees you.
Various colored wires are covering most of your body, and there are tubes everywhere. A tube down your throat, pushing the flow of oxygen that's forcing steady, continuous breaths in, and then out.
Spencer thinks about what it really means, that if it wasn't doing that for you, you'd be gone. Your very life is relying on a machine to continue to give it life.
He wonders where you are right now.
He's never been in a coma to know where a person goes when they're in that continuous sleep. Is it total darkness? Can you hear everything going on around you, every person coming in, talking, visiting you, but you can't answer? You can't give a response, despite you trying to do so, so you're just, stuck... stuck in the darkness?
YOU ARE READING
Take Over Me
FanficY/N Y/L/N is someone who has never felt true welcomeness. She's been unwelcome since she was a child, even in her own family. When she moves to Virginia and starts her new job with the BAU, she starts to learn what being welcome is really like. Espe...
