check the pulse and come back swearing

You always were something else, weren't you? Those eyes, too brown for your own good, and that old jacket that you loved to death - falling apart, but you didn't care.

Looking at it now, I suppose it was inevitable. That it would always end up like this - you, in a hospital bed, and me, on the outside.

Note: This is a work that has previously been posted on AO3, so if you follow me over there, it might look familiar!