Error's POV

I woke up from the loud noises of my alarm. A groan showed my irritation for having to wake up early everyday. Silencing my phone, I tucked my arm under the pillow to get comfortable once more.

However my peace was ruined quickly by a slobbery lick on my face gifted by my dog, Molly. The boxador rested her heavy body on me while showering me with kisses. I pushed myself up and rubbed her soft ear.

Me: Alright I'm up.

She stood, jumped off, and retrieved something from the side of my bed. As I waited, I slipped on my glasses so my vision would improve.

Molly happily trotted back, a smile being brought to my face when I saw that it was my prosthetic leg.

Me: Good girl.

I said, gently taking the hard plastic and metal limp from her mouth. I bent over and attached it to my left knee before standing up.

Several satisfying pops could be heard as my bones adjusted to a new position. My service dog stood close to me in case I lost my balance.

After I was fully dressed in scrubs, I headed to the kitchen to pack my satchel and make a pot of coffee. I attached the service vest to my dog. There was a small pouch that kept some things that I kept with me wherever I went.

Once I had everything, Molly and I left the house.

(Time Skip)

  The freezing cold temperature of the hospital hit me instantly when I pulled open the doors. I slightly shivered while making me way to the supply room. Molly followed at my side, making sure I didn't lose balance as I walked with a fast pace.

  It already seemed quite busy despite being five in the morning. Doctors and nurses rushed past me through the halls, making their way to sick people or people that needed tending to.

  I entered a patient's room. It was quiet and peaceful with the curtains pulled closed as well as the constant sound of the heart monitor. A person slept dormant in the hospital bed.

Me: Good morning, Ink.

  I said quietly with a smile, not expecting a response back. Ink had been in a coma for five months after being shot in the head when he served in the marines.

It was a miracle he was able to recover but unfortunately he suffered from other injuries that hadn't healed yet. The military didn't elaborate what the injuries were from but the doctors were able to figure out that they were caused by knifes.

Ink's eyes were closed and there was a mask over his mouth and nose bridge, helping to regulate his breathing. He looked peaceful but I knew that it was going to be a different story when he woke up.

  Molly jumped on the couch and laid down, watching me intently as I moved around the room. I opened the blinds to let in the dim morning light and began to change the IV that sustains the soul with life.

I pulled out a journal from Molly's backpack and paced through the room, writing an entry about Ink. My therapist recommended that I kept a journal as it helped with my thoughts and bottled emotions.

'Day thirty-three of caring for Ink. He hasn't woken up yet but there has been more activity in his mind and soul. I believe that he will wake up soon however I don't know when. It's weird to think that I fell in love with Ink during the time that I have watched over him. I like to tell him about the stuff that happens in my life. He's a good listener and more therapeutic than my own therapist.'

I closed the journal and slipped it back into the pouch on Molly's vest.

I heard the door close which caused me to turn to that direction. One of the senior doctors walked in.

Me: Good morning, doctor.

Doctor: How is he doing?

  He asked while motioning towards Ink.

Me: Ink is healthy and there has been more activity however there has been no movement.

Doctor: I see. Well, don't get entranced by him for too long. You have other patients to go to.

I nodded as he left the room. I turned to Ink, watching for a small second. A smile came to my face before I whistled for Molly.

Me: I'll see you soon, Ink...

Sleep well while I'm gone