Scömìche One-Shots

Comatose

You know how people have these theories that you are aware of your surroundings when you're comatose? Yeah, that's true. I can personally attest, I've been in one for four months now.

Apparently, I'm half awake or something. I don't know how to explain all those doctor-y terms I overheard, but it all sums up to this- I'm not fully asleep. What they don't know is that I'm aware of everything.

Every time someone walks in, I want to open my eyes. I want to twitch my hand, to hold theirs, I want to open my mouth and speak. I want to comfort my friends when I hear their bodies crack from sleeping in a hospital chair, or when they let out strangled sobs, but I can't. I haven't been able to move for so long.

Every time Scott visits, he only blames himself for what happened. 'I shouldn't have left you at the beach, not for a minute.' 'I should have made you bring something to defend yourself.' 'I should've caught him in time.' Etcetera. He thinks it's his fault that I was mugged on the boardwalk, but it wasn't. It wasn't my fault, either. It's was that bearded, ginger piece of shit who got away in time that did this to me.

It's hard to forget what your attacker looks like when you've had four months to do nothing but think. That's what I'm doing now, thinking. It's all I can do. I can hear my heart monitor speed up when my friends enter, but they never notice. They don't know I can hear them. They don't know I want to hug them, or to tell them that I'm okay. I mean, I guess I'm not, but they are. I want to tell them that everything will be okay, even if it's not true.

As my mind begins to wander over the subject of Funyuns, the voice of a certain blond ceases every current thought in my head. I hadn't even heard him walk in.

"Hey, Mitchy," he says, his voice raspy. It may be the early morning, I can never tell. I just hope that dumb boy is getting enough sleep.

The smell of coffee makes me want to sit up. It's definitely morning, there's no reason he'd get hot coffee otherwise. He only drinks hot coffee when he wakes up.

"Dr. Foutch says you're doing well. Something about your vitals, your heartbeat, that kind of stuff. I.." I hear a deep sigh follow his words. "I know you probably can't hear me, but I like to think that you can. Wyatt still knows something's wrong, even after four months." He pauses. "I can't believe it's already been four months. That doesn't seem right." Chuckling, he shuffles a bit.

I feel tears brim my eyes, as they normally do when he visits. He's come to see me almost every day since the incident with the knife-wielding ginger.

"I hope you wake up soon." I do too. "Even now, I don't think this is nearly longest you've ever slept." I'm not sleeping. God, why can't I just tell him?

I feel something cold and wet travel down my cheek, realizing it's a tear. That hasn't happened in a while, they usually don't fall.

A moment of silence passes, making him sigh again.

"Can you even hear me?" Why can't he see me crying? Why doesn't he ever see me crying? Of course I can hear him! Anger washes over me as I feel the extreme urge to clench my fists. I haven't been able to take a deep breath in months. I haven't been able to scratch a single itch, I haven't been able to feed myself, I haven't been able to speak in four months! But I can cry. Why, you ask? Well, it's involuntary. Just like your heart, you can't stop it.

And it fucking sucks.

"Kirstin asked me to-" he stops, everything going silent. Slowly, I hear him stand, walking closer to me.

I feel his thumb on my cheek, wiping the tear away. Please understand that I can hear you. Please let this be a sign to you. Let this say something that I can't physically say. Another falls, him wiping that one as well.

"I don't know if this is you hearing me, or just something that happens. I miss you, Mitchy. Whether or not you can hear me, I miss you."

A long silence falls over us like a blanket, though I wouldn't be able to break it anyway. Footsteps come from where I've inferred the door is, and I hear the low voice of Avi attempting to get Scott's attention.

"Scott, I knew I'd find you in here," he chuckles. "Buddy, you need to eat sometime. Come on, we should get something from the cafeteria."

"Thanks, Avi, but I'd prefer to stay here and make sure Mitch is okay," Scott says, a hint of desperation in his tone. Avi sighs, taking a couple steps closer, or maybe just repositioning his feet.

"Nothing's going to happen to him when you're gone, Scott. It's okay if you want to stay, though. Kirstin and Kevin are going to be here soon, by the way," Avi says, taking a pause. "Are you sure you don't want to come to get some food with me?"

Scott's hand, which was resting on the shoulder of my hospital gown, suddenly falls from me. No. Don't leave me right now. Please.

"I guess I should eat. And you're right, he's probably not going to get hurt while I'm gone. I'll come with you. I'm hungry, anyway," Scott says. No. Please, no.

"I'll be waiting for you." Avi pauses. "Tell Mitch I said I miss him."

I hear Scott nod, Avi's footsteps making me aware that he's leaving the room.

"I'll be back soon, Mitch," Scott gently grabs my hand, his touch softer than the hospital blanket currently laying over me. "I love you."

My heart stops. He raises my hand, kissing my knuckles before gently laying my arm back onto the stiff bed. I want to squeeze his hand, to open my eyes, just something to show him that I'm awake.

His hand leaves mine, and I soon hear him leave the room. He closes the door behind him, the silence in the room now growing with every second.

Suddenly, my chest rises. Fast. I take a deep breath, the change of pattern refreshing. I can control my lungs. I can breathe.

I can breathe! God, please let this mean I'm waking up. Please.

I put every bit of strength I could gather into clenching my fist. This is probably the hardest thing I've ever done. I begin to give up, until I feel my fingertips graze my palm.

Was that phantom? I attempt to move my hand again, feeling my fingers suddenly bend. I'm moving. I'm actually moving.

I try to open my eyes, my face contorting painfully with my attempts. Slowly, my eyelids finally pull apart. I can see. Oh my god, everything is so bright. But I can see.

I'm awake. I'm awake. Immediately, I put all my strength into raising my arm. I wince, reaching blindly for the emergency button. Painfully turning my head, my eyes land on the red button, and I watch as my hand numbly grasps it. I press the button. Oh my god, I'm actually moving. I'm actually awake.

I close my eyes, comfort washing over me as I let the realization sink in. Soon, I hear my nurse rushing down the hall, calling her coworkers over. I let my body finally relax.

I love you too, Scott.

---

Why hello there

Yeah I've been gone quite the while huh

I'll explain myself later, I promise. I wrote this like an hour ago, but I was way too nervous to publish it 😂 but here it is, so yep.

A/N coming tomorrow, but for now I'm going to sleep. I love y'all :)

Farewell for now 👋🏼