scenarios // multifandom

#47 - Rocky Lynch

It's a Rocky scenario yes, but it's going to be told from the girl's POV because he's passed out 😶

My eyes darted from the salad to the corridor, for a stretcher with nurses crowding it had just raced by my window. My nurse, Nicole, also looked with the same worried expression. "One second."

She disappeared into the hallway, and I took the chance to dump the tasteless salad into the bin. Only that, she caught me as I struggled to get back in bed. "That's okay; got it."

"Let me help." She offered, tucking me in. I sighed deeply.

"Who's heard of a 20 year old who can't even get into bed by themselves." I looked to my blue-ish cold hands, and the hospital tag on my wrist that was virtually faded and beige rather than crisp white. A measure of how long I've been in this hospital.

"Age has nothing to do with it, Scarlett." Nicole smiled encouragingly. "Anybody with a heart condition is like this."

"But still. I should be going to parties, hooking up and getting wasted. But the only thing I'm wasting is your time and space in the room." I said.

"Scarlett. Stop, now." Her tone changed. "You deserve to be alive as much as anybody else. And consider yourself lucky, as unlike the boy who just rushed by, you aren't fighting for your life."

I arched an eyebrow. "Really."

"Not immediately." She glared playfully. "The boy who just got wheeled past just overdosed himself, the poor thing."

"He tried to kill himself?" My eyes widened.

"Yeah. Took at least 5 whole packets of his brother's sleeping pills and washed them down with alcohol, they're trying to pump out his stomach before anything else happens." She explained.

"And you got all of this info in 20 seconds?" I nodded to the door and she grinned proudly. I chuckled. "You are something else."

"And you have a heart of gold."

"Lies."

It was funny that my name was Scarlett. The colour resembled blood, which travelled around my body with difficulty due to the shitty muscle in my chest that is a pussy version of a heart.

Coronary Heart Disease struck me at 12, during cheer practice. I remember it clearly; one moment I was doing flips and laughing, the next one I was gripping my chest and screaming in pain as a heart attack developed within me. I woke up two weeks after from a coma, and was in and out of hospitals until I turned 15, where I was accepted into my old hospital.

When I turned 18, I was moved here and have spent a few months back home, only that things got complicated and they just assigned me a room, a nurse and a place in the heart transplant list.

I lost weight, became pale, secluded from the world. It's been two months since I last went outside of the hospital.

Everyday is a battle; there are 'up' days, like today, in which I will be happy and moving to the best of my ability.

Then there are 'down' days, in which I will not move whatsoever and just sleep the day away, ventilator and nasal mask (which looks frightened) in place. My parents have came to say that in my 'down' days, I tend to look dead as I'm so still.

I would prefer to be. All of this is too much hassle, but I'm not allowed to give in. At least not yet.

"I shouldn't have told you, you look like a sad puppy. Aww, don't worry, he's just down the hall." Nicole stood up, fixing my IV to give me another round of meds. "Come on. Time to sleep."

I didn't complain; today was draining. Some of my friends and family came to visit me and stayed for a good part of the day and made me laugh a lot. That was my share of exercise for the month.

She flicked off the main lights and switched on the fairy lights my brother hung up for me. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight." I replied to her as she slipped out of the door.

However, it wasn't long until I was up myself. I slid on my fluffy slippers and with the IV pole for support, I walked to the end of the hallway, the same boy laying in a dark-ish room.

I helped myself in, the room cold. Many machines were plugged into the boy who wore his hair long with a complimenting stubble. I ventured closer, and realised what my parents meant.

The comatose look dead. But this one was still alive, his hands warmer than mine.

I pulled a seat. "Listen here. I don't know who you are, but, you'll get to know me as the Heart Girl from down the hall. Notice how I used the future tense because you will wake up and meet me, and apologise to each and every family member you made cry tonight. I don't know you, or your first name, but I know you are loved and people would break if you died. So stay strong in there because; just do it. You can wake up, and we can make Intensive Care Unit friends and- oh god."

I found myself squeezing his hand, his pulse terribly slow and his breathing uneven. I think the on-edge emotions are either a new side effect, or I genuinely felt bad for him.

"You'll pull through. I hope- no, you will, even if I have do do a Stydia on you." I chuckled. "Just hang in there-"

"Scarlett!" Nicole whisper-yelled. "What are you-"

"I'm sorry, I felt bad and wanted to come and see him." She steered me away from the guy.

"I know, I know and it's adorable but his family is literally outside." She opened the door to a group of people. My stomach dropped; and I became even paler than ever.

"I'm so sorry." My quick shuffling failed and I fell, and slid. One of the boys by the door helped me back up and all I could do was mumble 'thanks' and walk back to my room to dig myself a hole and move into.