the book of fluff (that usually isn't)

mommy's little princess

No one knew much about the coma patient in room 2B. He was unclaimed, and no one ever visited him. The nurses didn't know his name, but the younger females liked to stare at him. He was quite pretty, and he didn't have a ring on his finger to show he belonged to someone. There was a collar around his neck, but the tag read "Mommy's Little Princess",  so they assumed the patient's mother gave it to him, even though mothers didn't usually give their children collars. They found it odd that it said "princess", too, when the patient was male.

The patient had been in the hospital for almost a year. He had gotten there from a car crash, and he hadn't woken up since. The nurses couldn't wait for it to happen, because they were tired of imagining what color his eyes were. Every day, they came to work with their makeup perfect, with the hopes that he'd wake up and think they were pretty.

The patient woke up on the year anniversary of him being in unconscious. His blue eyes were wide and fearful, and he couldn't seem to speak. The nurses rushed to calm him down, eventually giving him a sedative so he'd relax. He gripped at his collar, but not like he was trying to get it off — it appeared to give him comfort, and he stopped freaking out, simply pressing himself against the back of the hospital bed and watching the nurses' every movement with nervous eyes.

"Sir? Do you know your name?" a nurse asked him as gently as she could, but the patient didn't respond. "M-Mitch. Wh-Where Mitch?" he croaked, his voice hoarse from a year of silence. "Is your name Mitch?" the nurse asked, tilting her head a bit. "N-No. Wh-Where Mitch?" the patient whimpered, tears forming in his eyes. He began to tremble, holding onto his collar tightly.

"Sir, I don't know who Mitch is. Can you tell me who he is?"

"M-Mommy."

The nurse frowned, confused. "Mitch is your mother's name?"

"N-No. Mom-my."

Meanwhile, a handsome man hurried inside the hospital. He wore black-rimmed glasses framing chocolate eyes, and his small form was covered in a long black coat. His black boots clicked against the tile as he rushed up to the receptionist's desk. "I need to see Scott Grassi-Hoying," he demanded, but he was looking around worriedly and his gloved fingers were tapping nervous patterns on the marble. The receptionist nodded slightly and searched up the name, but a small frown soon formed on her lips. "Sir, we do not have a patient named Scott Grassi-Hoying. Are you sure that's the right name?"

"Of course I'm sure. He's here, I know it."

"There's no patient with that name at this hospital, sir."

The man sighed frustratedly and ran his fingers through his hair. "He has blond hair and blue eyes, and was in a car crash a year ago," he said, and the receptionist nodded slightly as she recognized the patient's description. "That patient hasn't been claimed, sir. What's your relation to him?" The man breathed a soft sigh of relief and removed his gloves. "I'm his husband," he answered, a hint of pride in his voice. The receptionist wasn't exactly sure whether to believe him or not, as the patient in question had no ring on his finger, nor had he been visited. "Why haven't you visited him?"

"Because I wasn't able to," the man snapped, losing his patience. "Please, I need to see him."

Something in his voice caused the woman to believe him, and she nodded slightly. "Alright. He's in room 2B. He just woke up a few minutes ago, so if he doesn't recognize you, don't get angry." The man just nodded slightly and hurriedly thanked her before he walked quickly down the hall and up the steps to room 2B.

The patient, who we now know is called Scott, had been driven to panic by the nurse. She hadn't meant to, of course, but Scott was in an unfamiliar room in an unfamiliar place and he didn't know what was happening. The man suddenly rushed inside and completely ignored the nurse, falling to his knees beside Scott's bed and bringing him into his arms. "Hey. Hey. Calm down, baby girl. Shh," he murmured, rubbing his back and gently pressing the other boy's face into his shoulder. As soon as the man's familiar smell of women's perfume and the feeling of his cool fingers on Scott's neck registered in the poor patient's mind, he relaxed and calmed down, clutching weakly at the man's jacket. "Mommy," he whispered, nuzzling against him. The man smiled and kissed his hair, rubbing his back. "Yes, princess. It's me. I came back for you, just like I promised." Scott sighed contentedly and scooted over, pulling the man on the bed next to him. The man didn't protest, keeping his arms around Scott and smiling wider when the blond rested his head on his chest.

The nurse stared at the man, wondering who he was and how he'd managed to get Scott to calm down so quickly. "You're 'mommy'?" she asked, and the man quickly looked up as though he hadn't noticed someone else was in the room. As soon as he realized the voice belonged to simply a nurse, his features relaxed and he brought Scott closer. "Yes. That would be me." The nurse didn't quite understand this, becoming even more confused. "There's no way you're old enough to be his mother. Plus, you're a male. Males cannot have children."

The man just smiled and absentmindedly trailed his fingers through Scott's hair. "No, they most certainly cannot. My name is Mitch Grassi-Hoying. I'm Scott's husband."

"Then why does he call you 'mommy'?"

Mitch just chuckled softly and shook his head. "I'm afraid that would talk too long to explain, ma'am."

The nurse hesitated, but nodded. "Okay. You said you're his husband?"

"Yes. I'm his husband," Mitch murmured distractedly — he'd started starting at Scott, who had closed his eyes and had presumably fallen asleep.

"Then why didn't you visit him?"

"Don't you think I would've if I could've?" Mitch said, looking up at the nurse with darkening eyes. "Scott is my everything. I would've have left him if I could help it. This conversation is over." Something in Mitch's voice caused the nurse to fall silent immediately, and she quietly walked out of the room.

Mitch watched her go silently, and as soon as she was gone, he relaxed fully and turned his attention to the boy on his chest. Scott had woken up at Mitch's firm voice, and he blinked sleepily up at him. Mitch smiled gently down at him and kissed his forehead, absentmindedly playing with the hairs on the back of his neck. "How are you feeling, princess?" he murmured softly, and Scott subconsciously reached up to hold onto Mitch's jacket again. "I'm good now, Mommy," he whispered. Mitch smiled and tilted his head up to connect their lips. Scott immediately kissed back, melting into the kiss. He'd missed his husband so much.

When they broke apart, Mitch kissed Scott's nose and kicked off his shoes, carefully maneuvering himself to lay down beside him. Scott immediately pressed himself into Mitch's side, hiding his face in his neck. "Are you leaving again?" he asked quietly, his hand resting on Mitch's chest to feel his heartbeat. "No, baby girl. I'm back to stay," Mitch whispered back, kissing his hair. "I'll never leave you again." Scott relaxed at those five words and moved closer to him, sighing softly. "I love you, Momma."

"I love you too, princess. Go back to sleep, okay? I'll be right here."

Scott nodded and obediently closed his eyes. "Okay. Goodnight, Mommy."

"Goodnight, princess."

Scott fell asleep then, safely wrapped in his husband's arms once more.