sh•mg | oneshots

Take Me Home🏥

Prompt: Mitch visits Scott in the hospital. Little does he know, Scott wishes he could visit Mitch just as easily.

Setting: AU Same Personalities

Words: 926
•••••

Scott looked cold.

I had always associated Scott with warmth. Warm smile, warm skin, warm cheeks, warm hugs. Warm weather where he'd beg me to leave the house and make the most of the daylight. Warm-colored suits that he invested in because he felt he looked uninventive beside me. Warm tea he'd set to boil on stuffy nights before a show. He's always been warm.

But, resting in that undersized hospital bed, he looked cold. And weak. And, ill.

Everything that he was not.

I discretely pinch the inside of my cheek with my teeth, sighing as I took small, slow steps towards the chair. I picked the plastic make up easily, pulling it towards the bedside.

"Hey, bub." I whispered, slightly smiling at the sight of him. His face seemed less pale than last night. My hands slid up to his forehead. Warmth. I brushed the dirty blonde locks out of his eyes. They were closed. They've been closed.

"I called in late for work today to come see you. I hope you don't mind me being here so much."

"I, um, I miss you being around. But, Doctor says you aren't getting worse. I'm proud of you." I felt the tightness and fought it back down. Taking his hand, I carefully pressed our palms together, our fingers opposite each other. My fingertips trailed across his wrist as I continued.

"You've always been a fighter–"

I choked, my mouth oversaturated. I cleared my throat.

"Sorry, I always do this. I don't really know why I'm apologising, I don't even know if you can hear me." I laughed painfully, digging my nails into my other palm.

"I don't know how much of you is in there. They say that you can hear me. That talking to you is good because it exercises your brain? They say a lot of things. It's all science, y'know? And, science? Science is bullshit."

"Science is bullshit because there's not a variable for emotion or relationships or anything that matters. Don't they understand that all I want to hear right now is that you'll be okay?" I chuckled once again, used to the salty taste of my overwhelming sadness, and wiped my cheeks purposelessly.

"But, they don't know you like I do, baby. I know you're not one to give up. Literally ever. Even in a small, pointless arguments."

"Oh my gosh, Scott, do you remember that time when we fought over you wanting to go to that party instead of stay in with me? Gosh, I was so stupid. I threw a fit and threatened to break up with you and everything." I smiled, and smiled genuinely. I swear I felt his left pinky finger twitch.

"You, um, you came into the bedroom with your party clothes forgotten and, um, cuddled me 'till the morning..."

My words hung like icicles, and I fought to keep the light mood going.

"Hey, I had to jerk off three times yesterday day, mister! Momma's pent up, so if you need a motive to get better, this is it! Please; I'm not going to be the widow that waits seventy years for her husband to return, okay? I miss you." I dragged the last syllable, suddenly hating the distance between us, and resting my head on his stomach.

"Mm, soft. And moving. Moving is good. Please never stop moving, okay?" I finally intertwined our fingers, frowning when I felt them cooler than warmer. The beeping monitor was soothing.

"I know you can hear me, baby. You know I can't let you go. I'm not– I'm not good at being alone. You'll be alright."

•••

"I miss him."

Scott thinks, frowning internally.

"It pisses me the fuck off that I can't move. It pisses me the fuck off times two that I have to hear him fucking cry every day and not do anything about it."

"If I could lift a FUCKING FINGER–"

"Can you calm down?"

Scott glares at Optimist Scott.

"You heard him. He knows you can hear him. It's fine, maybe one day those things they inject you with will work!" Optimist Scott smiles, and Scott rolls his eyes.

"I can literally feel his warmth. I swear I can. I think I even felt him hold my hand. Do you think he's been holding my hand? Do you think... do you think he's been getting a good night's sleep?"

Optimist Scott bites his lip, feeling empathy.

"He has faith in you. In us. In fact, I think he has more faith in you then those doctors–"

"Shhh!"

"Um, excuse me, bitch? I'm trying to make you feel better–"

"No, seriously! Listen, he's singing..."

"We– we light up the sky. Heaven knows there's no such thing as goodbye, oh. 'Cause love, love can never die. We'll forever be burning, you and I, oh.

And, don't you forget, the only thing that matters is our heartbeats going strong. Oh, don't you forget that nothing else can matter, because we know where we belong..."

•••••

I won't lie this put me in a super sad mood. Ouch.

I'm absolutely gutted about the situation we're in right now. I love Avi, and I love Scott. These two are probably the most emotional right now, and all I want is to see them walking through this together. I'm excited for what's to come, and I'm excited for a new bass to learn to love!

Also, I named my ukelele TIM!

Like, Timmy. Tim-Tim. Lil' Tim. Timbuktu. I love him.

Anyone here have a favorite play/ musical?