Coma

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// Written for the 3rd December writing prompts from IG: 2set.writingprompts ! //

He arrived at the hospital with the violin on his back like he did every day, nodded at the receptionist and made his way towards the elevator with heavy steps. Rehearsal had been rough today, and there was barely anything he wanted more than to just go to sleep. While taking the job as a substitute for a second violin in the orchestra to stay economically afloat was better than working at a local coffee shop, he'd rather be here at the hospital.

When he got to the right floor he stepped out and strolled down the mostly empty hallway. He nodded at a familiar nurse as he knocked on the door before entering like he always did. Of course there was no reply. There hadn't been for almost two months now. He grabbed the door handle and stepped in.

"Hey," he sighed, looking at his best friend in the bed, not expecting any reply. "Sorry I'm late. How was your day?"
He sighed and put his violin case down next to the chair that stood ready for him as always by the bed.
"Mine was horrible, thanks for asking," he said, sitting down. "The conductor made us play desk by desk, and I guess I just embarrassed myself in front of the whole orchestra. Not much time to practice, you know."

He had been there every day since the accident, sitting around and talking to him for a couple of hours. Sometimes some family would drop by as well, but mostly it was just him. His parents had lost hope weeks ago, when the doctors had told them the prognosis.

"I do miss you a lot, though. It's hard to run the channel without you. If you wake up, we'll make some great skits, deal?"
He reached out and took his hand carefully like he did every day, pressing it against his cheek. The man in the bed just looked like he was sleeping, but there was no reaction to the touch. He knew there wouldn't be any reaction, but it still hurt every time. A single tear ran down his cheek.

"They didn't wash your hair today either, huh?" he asked, pushing some dark hair away from his forehead, careful not to disturb any of the many tubes they had stuck in him. They were what kept him alive still. Without them, he'd be gone forever. "Don't worry, I'll ask them to wash it tomorrow in case the love of your life decides to drop by while you're here." He chuckled at the attempted joke, but his smile faded quickly. It was heavy to joke without getting any response from his friend. "I'm just joking. You're handsome as ever, of course."

He sat in silence for a while, eyes moving from the unconscious man to the heart monitor next to him. They had mercifully turned off the beeping sound after they were certain he was stable, and showed a steady rythm. The doctors and nurses had told him it wasn't likely he could hear it, but he still insisted, just in case. He knew it would drive the other nuts if he could hear it.

"The fans are asking about you. I try to be hopeful, but the doctors haven't given me much to work with, you know." He squeezed the other's limp hand lightly, feeling his throat tighten.
"They want to pull the plug on you. I've been saying they can't do that, but..."
Another tear ran down his cheek. Then another, and another. The next he knew, he was shaking with crying.
"Please come back to me. There's so much we haven't done yet. I need you."

He squeezed the other's hand again, but didn't expect anything in return. There never was. They were going to pull the plug on him the following day, when his parents got there. He was already gone, brain dead as they called it. It was impossible for him to really believe it.

"I really really thought you wouldn't leave me, that I'll have another chance to tell you properly, but..."
He paused, taking in the slow and steady breathing the machine helped him with. It felt unreal that he was gone. It felt like it couldn't be true that they would never play together, film together, laugh together again.
"... but I love you. Like properly. I know I've joked about it before, but I really do. I'm sorry I didn't tell you before."

He jumped when the heart rate machine beeped once, indicating a significant raise in heartrate. A moment later a nurse entered, looking like she thought there had to be a mistake.

And then it happened. The light squeeze, barely anything really, but definitly a light movement of his fingers.
"Y...you're... Still there? Oh my god, you're... you're... Oh my god..." he cried, leaning down to half hug the other. The nurse looked like crying herself before running off to get the on call doctor, mumbling to herself how it was a miracle.
"I knew you wouldn't leave me like that, I knew it," he sobbed, kissing his hand again.

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