Scott walked in, not knowing really what to expect. He'd never visited anybody in the hospital before- well, of course, he'd come to cheer up the kids, but it was never anybody he knew. He was surprised by the sterility of it all. In the kids' rooms, there was color, balloons reading "Get Well Soon!" and gifts from friends. But in the adults' rooms, there were no such comforting items. The outside world didn't appear to reach them, only the gripping pain of disease and suffering.

The coma ward was eerily quiet as he walked down the halls. It wasn't that he expected much noise, as the patients were, after all, comatose. He just didn't expect this total lack of noise, not even the beep of a machine or the sound of footsteps besides his own was heard in the gripping silence.

He pushed open the door, and not even a creak was heard from it. It was as silent as its surroundings.

He didn't know what he'd expected Vincent to look like. The best way to describe him was still. His hands laid by his side, machines connected to him silently pulsing with light. His eyes were closed, mouth only slightly open so that a few white-ish teeth showed through the gap. His chest rose and fell, though his breathing was artificial, oxygen provided through a tube that wound around his chest and nose.

Scott's stomach balled up in a mixture of emotions that he couldn't recognize. He pulled a chair over to the bed, picking up Vincent's hand and holding it with both of his. He put his head down on the side of the bed, letting his breaths fall into sync with the rising and falling of Vincent's chest.

"You're an idiot, grape..." A single tear rolled down his face. He was quick to wipe it away and even quicker to return his hand to Vincent's. "I f*cking hate you." He paused and breathed in and out a bit quicker. "Don't scare me like this ever again. And please wake up... p-please..."