a/n: i'm not a doctor. some things may not be accurate so don't quote me on any of this.
Almost half an hour later, Mitch was frantically looking through the hallways before he found me. As soon as he spotted me, he rushed over. "Scott, how is he?" He asked me in a panicked tone.
"I don't know. No one has told me anything yet," I informed him. He sighed and sat down next to me.
"What the fuck even happened?" He questioned curiously.
"He came to my apartment, drunk. And then we had an argument and then he collapsed," I answered.
He took a moment to think. "You...You don't think he had a heart attack, do you?" He pondered curiously.
"No, it didn't look like he had any pain in his heart," Mitch stared at me and I paused. "Physically anyway,"
"Alcohol poisoning?"
"I honestly have no clue. Right now I just want him to be okay," I replied. "I thought I was going to lose him for good," I sighed. "I had no idea on what to do,"
"It's good you called an ambulance. He's in safe hands now," Mitch reassured me.
I looked at him and just broke down. "It's my fault, isn't it?" I sobbed. I felt so guilty for all of this.
"Why would you think that?"
"He wouldn't have been drinking if we weren't on a break," I answered. "I'm so fucking stupid,"
"Hey, don't beat yourself up about this," Mitch's tone softened. "First of all, we don't know whether the drinking caused it and second of all, you took the break for a reason. A good reason,"
A doctor approached us. He was a tall African-American male dressed in a uniform. "Are you Scott Hoying?" He asked me. I nodded. He looked at Mitch. "And you are?"
"Mitch. Mitch Grassi," Mitch answered.
"Well, Mitch and Scott, I'm Dr Kevin Olusola and I have come to update you on your friend's condition,"
"I-Is he ok?" I sniffled, wiping my tears away.
"He's in a coma," The doctor bluntly stated. It felt like my whole world came crashing down again as I put my head in my lap and sobbed. Mitch's hand was on my back, rubbing it.
"Do you have any idea for how long?" Mitch asked him, curiously.
"Comas are unpredictable but due to nature of his situation, I would say a couple days. Maybe a week."
I looked up at the doctor and furrowed my brow in confusion. "W-What is the nature of his situation?" I questioned.
"I think we should discuss this in a more private area. Can the both of you follow me?" We both got up and followed behind him. We went down a long and busy hallway. I looked in every room to see if Avi was in one of them. He wasn't.
We made it to his office and he closed the door behind him. We all sat down by his desk. "Now upon first inspection of his body, it was clear that he was in a coma-like state. I ran an assessment on his eyes and saw he had pinpoint pupils,"
"Pinpoint pupils?" Mitch repeated, confused.
"Which leads me on to my first question. Does Avi have any history of heroin or opioid usage?" He questioned and I was baffled.
"No. None at all," Mitch responded. I could hear the shakiness in his voice. I could feel my nerves come to surface as Mitch looked at me. "W-Why?"
"When we took a fluid test, we found large amounts of heroin alongside small amounts of phenylethylamine, haloperidol, dopamine and alcohol in his system,"
"Oh my God," I whispered in shock.
"All of these drugs together aren't that bad but when mixed with alcohol can be lethal, so he's lucky to be even breathing," I put my head into hands and sobbebed silently into my hands.
"How do you think all of these drugs entered his system?" Mitch continued to ask questions. I was in no mood to ask.
"Well, I've seen this combination of drugs a couple times. It's typically used as a tranquillizer,"
"A tranquillizer? Why would- who even needs a tranquillizer?" The doctor shrugged his shoulders.
There was a knocking on his office door and the door opened. "Doctor you're needed," I heard a nurse.
"I'll be right back," He left the room leaving Mitch and I alone.
The doctor's words circled my mind. "He's lucky to be even breathing," echoed throughout my head.
"Scott," Mitch got my attention. I looked up at him and he handed me a box of tissue that he got from the desk. I pulled some tissues out of the box and wiped my tears. "He's going to be okay. Don't worry,"
"I-I know. I'm still scared. He could've died, Mitch. He would've died thinking that I hated him," I sobbed.
"Well, in a couple days or so, he will wake up and you can tell him how much you love him, okay?"
"Okay,"
