Hamilton One Shots!!

Dialogue Prompt List Part 2

Part two of four

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Prompt #20: "You need to wake up because I can't do this without you."

A hospital room isn't the ideal place that I'd want to go on a date with my husband. It's even harder when he's in a coma.

I smile at his resting face, rubbing his warm hand with my thumb. I miss his soothing voice, the way it got super deep and grovelly in the early mornings, and how I could hear his emotions in his voice. I miss his eyes, I haven't seen those lush forestry green eyes in such a long time. I miss the blush that would come to his face whenever I would wink at him.

I scoot the uncomfortable hospital chair closer to his bed, laying my head down on his arm. I feel tears spring to my eyes faster than his curls would bounce when he walked. It's absolute torture, him being here but not truly being here.

"Come on, Jacky, please. You need to wake up. You have to, for everyone. For me." I say, squeezing his lifeless hand tight. I think for a moment that I see his fingers twitch. "You need to wake up because I can't do this without you."

I cry into his arm, the freckles across his skin blurred from salty tears. It hurts so much to pretend that I'm fine with this. I try to be strong for him and for the people around me, but sometimes I break down. He's right here, but he's gone. I haven't talked to him for three months. I haven't held a normal conversation with my own husband in three months. I haven't seen his smile, or his dimples, or the beautiful glow in his eyes in three months. I haven't gotten a kiss back from him in three months. Each day is worse than the last, and each day it doesn't get any easier.

I squeeze his hand once more, hoping for some kind of reaction. I do this every time I visit, and every time my efforts are fruitless.

Then, there it is. It's small, but it's there. My heart leaps in my chest. It's a squeeze. It's something.

I jump up from the chair I'm sitting in, searching his face for any other signs of movement. Oh my god, he could be waking up. He could be ok again. He could kiss me today.

I watch his eyes move underneath their lids, and then his eyelashes slowly flutter open like a butterfly's wings. A fresh coat of tears fall down my face, but they're only happy tears now. My Jack's awake.

"JOHN!" I yell, throwing my body on top of his. "Oh my god, oh my god..." I snuggle into his side, feeling his head turn slowly. He brings a hand to his head, not saying a word.

I lift my head from his shoulder and watch his eyes skid around the room like ice skates. He's confused, I can tell.

"Where... am I?"

His voice is raspy from not being used for three months, but it's still his.

"What's happening?"

I can't believe that we could possibly go home again in a couple of days. We'd be back to normal, and I'd be able to love him whenever I wanted to. No hospital doors and visiting hours holding me back.

"Who are you?"

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Prompt #9: "Don't you ever do that again!"

"I fucking hate haunted houses," I grumble, crossing my arms around my undead cheerleader costume. The crisp October wind whips my frizzy pigtails around my face, and I wish I'd worn some sort of leggings instead of ripped fishnet tights. My sisters looked more comfortable and weather-inclined in their costumes. Lucky them.