The Touch of Jack Frost (Weak Hero)

Stephen (12-1-22)

Gray ran down the hospital hallway, it seemed unreal. Just a few hours ago, Stephen had called him, complaining of a splitting headache and unbreaking fever. The boy had simply told the other that if his fever persisted after a nice long shower, a bowl of soup, and an Advil, then to check by the emergency room. Gray had done extensive reading on fevers, viruses, influenza, etc. and certainly, matters like such are not to be taken lightly. "Where is Stephen Ahn!" He nearly screamed to the lady at the front desk, his uniform was wrinkled and his hair was mused and sticking up at all angles from where he'd ran his hand through it too many times to count. Of course, the best solution to this issue was probably not yelling at a lady who didn't get paid enough to get yelled at.

Her eyes scanned him, perhaps deciding whether he was a threat or just a concerned partner. She sighed, clicking keys on her computer. The screen was bright, standing out against the dim room. Dark tint blocked out most of the sunlight that could've been streaming in through the windows. At the click of a single button, her brown eyes widened. "I'm so sorry," She began, as the small high-school boy began to tear up, he couldn't be... "He's in the quarantine wing, you can't see him."

Gray attempted a sigh of relief, though it didn't come, his tension didn't subside, "W-what?" AT the moment, The White Mamba of Eunjang didn't care that he sounded weak. He didn't care that he sounded broken. He didn't care that he was showing emotion or crying in front of a stranger. Stephen Ahn... "Where is that?" Gray's voice was needy, it didn't matter, something was wrong with this image.

Her face crumbled, losing the fake-nice-person facade she'd been wearing, "Fourth floor, left wing, you can't go in there." Not telling someone, on papers marked as family, where their loved one was located, was against hospital policy. Going there on his own was also against hospital policy. 

He didn't say thank you, instead turning and bolting to the stairs. Gray couldn't survive a elevator ride right now, he couldn't shove himself into a small metal box, listening to the tick of time and passing floors while Stephen was somewhere, all alone. Small legs skipped two steps at a time, attempting three once before deciding two was the most efficient. In a way, going to the fourth floor felt as long as climbing a dangerous and nearly insurmountable mountain, then again the new space came as quickly as a simple passage through a threshold. Left, left, left. He repeated, opening a metal door carelessly, causing the handle to make a loud thump sound as it made contact with the wall behind it. Gray turned left and ran down the hall, not caring in any way who he might collide with.

However, he saw not a single soul.

It was a ghost town.

Another set of metal doors came all too soon, a sign warned passersby what the true contents of the room was, HAZARDOUS:QUARENTINE, it read, in blocky and thick letters, an iconic yellow hazard sigh hung beside it. STAFF ONLY, a paper waved carelessly in the slight breeze of a nearby air conditioning unit. Gray dismissed it as if the rules didn't apply to him, pushing past the doors and finding himself in an open and clean white hall. It looked about the same as the rest of the hospital, though, instead of carpet it was tile squares. Violet eyes scanned rooms though windows, finding each and every one to be empty.

His heart was a sinking pit, and with every empty room he fell deeper into it's depths. Please Stephen Ahn, Please. Gray had gotten the call just half an hour ago:

"Hello I am calling from XXX hospital, is this Gray Yeon I'm speaking to?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Good, I'm calling on account of Stephen Ahn, you know him correct, you are at the top of his emergency contacts."

"Yes ma'am," his voice waved unnaturally.