The Darkness Consumes

Chapter 23 Acceptance

?? trigger warning ??

Viv grumbled into his pillow as a finger jabbed repeatedly at his shoulder. He groaned under his breath, keeping his eyes shut. But the finger was relentless. It poked and poked and poked.

"Fuck off," he muttered in annoyance.

The poking didn't stop.

"Jesus, Bobby," Viv mumbled, voice thick with sleep. "What time is it? Can you just shut up for one fucking—"

"Wake up, fratello."

Viv froze. That finger wasn't heavy and clumsy like Bobby's. It was gentle. Purposeful. The voice. He knew that voice.

Viv rolled over, eyes squinting open, heart already thudding. The room light hadn't been turned on yet, and the room was still coated in the blue-grey haze of early morning. His vision took a moment to adjust, and then—

"Matteo?" he whispered.

His brother was crouched beside the bed, dressed in the same hoodie and jeans he always wore when he visited, with that same dumb red baseball cap. That soft, crooked smile was there again. The one Viv knew better than his own reflection.

"Morning," Matteo said softly. "You're sleeping in."

Viv sat up so fast his blanket tangled around his waist. His eyes flicked to Bobby's bed on the other side of the room, where the boy lay snoring like a congested elephant, oblivious to the fact that Viv was possibly losing his grip on reality again.

"You're not—" Viv stopped himself. His throat was tight. "You're not supposed to be here."

"I know," Matteo said with a shrug, like it wasn't a big deal. "But you looked like you needed me."

Viv's hands were trembling. He didn't want to reach out. He didn't want to touch him, because if his hand passed right through, he knew he'd break. "You're not real," he said flatly.

Matteo tilted his head to one side. "Does that change anything?" he asked gently.

Viv didn't answer. He just stared. Because even if Matteo wasn't real, even if he was just a broken thought inside his own messed-up brain, it didn't stop the flood of emotion crashing over him like a wave. Anger. Relief. Guilt. Love. Grief.

"I hate you," Viv muttered.

"I know," Matteo said, and his voice was still stupidly gentle. "But I'm still here."

Viv rubbed a shaking hand down his face and whispered, "Just... let me breathe for a second."

Matteo nodded like he understood. Like he'd been waiting for Viv to come to this exact point. And somehow, that only made Viv want to scream. Because he wasn't ready.

Viv stared at the boy in front of him, his own brother, the ghost of him (or whatever he was now) sitting with his arms wrapped around his knees like he used to do when they were kids hiding under their covers to whisper late into the night.

His voice came out rough and quiet. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Matteo tilted his head. His expression was soft, matter-of-fact. "You weren't ready," he said simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Viv exhaled a dry laugh and looked away, fingers twisting in the worn fabric of his blanket. "I'm still not ready."

"Yes you are," Mateo said firmly, leaning back on his palms. "Look how far you've come."

Viv turned sharply toward him. "I'm still a wreck, Matteo."

Matteo smiled, wide and lopsided, his eyes warm. "No, you're thriving. Especially with Ash." He wiggled his eyebrows in that exaggerated way that always used to make Viv groan as a kid.

Viv rolled his eyes, but a corner of his mouth twitched. "Jesus. Even in my hallucinations I'm still thinking about him."

"Them," Matteo corrected with a smirk, voice sing-song.

"Fuck you."

"Fuck you too, fratello."

Silence settled again, heavier this time. Viv leaned his elbows onto his knees, brow furrowed, mouth tight. His voice cracked on the next question.

"How?" he asked tiredly, barely above a whisper.

Mateo blinked. "How what?"

"How did you die?"

Matteo's face stilled. The flicker of amusement dropped from his eyes like a blown-out flame. For a long second, he said nothing. Then he gave a small shrug, like the weight of that truth didn't belong to him. "I don't know."

Viv stared, stunned. "What?"

Mateo gestured at himself vaguely. "Are you forgetting I'm part of your subconscious? If you don't know, then how the hell am I meant to know?"

Viv clenched his jaw, frustration boiling over. "God, you're even more frustrating when you're dead."

Matteo grinned lazily. "You're welcome."

Viv's eyes flicked to the side when he felt that prickling sensation of being watched. Bobby was sitting up in his bed now, legs crossed, as he openly stared at Viv with wide, confused eyes. The concern on Bobby's face was practically glowing in the dim morning light leaking through the blinds.

Viv should've cared. Should've felt the sting of embarrassment crawl over him, should've stopped talking to nothing—because that's what Bobby was seeing.

Nothing. But he didn't care. Not right now.

Because Matteo was still sitting on the edge of his bed, very much there in Viv's eyes, the soft ghost of his brother's presence refusing to vanish just because the world said he should.

So Viv didn't even glance at Bobby again. He turned his head back to Matteo and continued speaking. "I still don't understand," Viv muttered under his breath. "If you don't know how you died, then why the fuck does it feel like it's all my fault?"

Matteo's expression softened again. "Because guilt is louder than truth," he said gently. "It always is."

Viv clenched his fists in the blankets. "I should've done something. That night... on Halloween. I don't remember anything. I don't even know if I was there."

Matteo lips curved into a faint, sad smile. "You're just a kid, Viv. You shouldn't have to keep thinking about things like this."

"But I was your brother."

"And I was yours." Matteo leaned forward slightly, his voice low but steady. "You're allowed to live, Viv. Even if I didn't. Even if you're still figuring out how."

Viv's throat tightened, and he blinked furiously. He refused to cry again. Not here. Not in front of Bobby.

A beat passed, and he felt Bobby's gaze still fixed on him, heavy with confusion, maybe even fear. Viv exhaled slowly through his nose.

"Still seeing your dead brother?" Matteo teased lightly.

"Still annoying the shit out of me?" Viv shot back.

"That's what I'm here for."

Viv gave a short, bitter laugh. He didn't care if Bobby saw him losing his mind. Didn't care if the nurses were called again. In this moment, seeing Matteo's face again, whether it was real or not, was the only thing holding him together.

Matteo was now swinging his legs where he sat on the edge of Viv's bed, scuffed trainers lightly tapping against the frame.

There was something different in his expression now.

It was less teasing, less warm. A quiet seriousness had settled over his features, and when Viv finally looked up, Matteo's smile had faded into something softer. Bittersweet.

"I might not be around much longer," Matteo said, almost like he was trying not to say it.

Viv's stomach dropped. "What?"

Matteo tilted his head. "They're upping your meds, right? That new mood stabiliser... It's not just for your lows. It's going to muffle the noise in your head. Including me."

"No." Viv shook his head immediately. "No, you're not some—some noise, Matteo. You're—"

"I'm part of you. I know," Matteo cut in gently. "I'm not saying I'm not real to you. I am. But I'm still a manifestation, Viv. And medication like that? It's going to clear the fog. I'm the fog."

Viv's heart was pounding. "So what, you're just gonna vanish?"

"I'm not saying goodbye," Matteo said, and for the first time, he sounded like he meant it. "Just... don't be surprised if I don't show up for a while. You're healing. That's a good thing."

Viv swallowed hard, the backs of his eyes burning. "I don't want to heal if it means losing you again."

Matteo gave a small smile and bumped his shoulder lightly against Viv's. "That's not true. You want to heal. You just wish healing didn't mean hurting a little first."

Before Viv could reply, the door to the room creaked open and in walked Nurse Carla, clipboard in hand and a too-bright morning cheer in her voice.

"Good morning, boys," she sang. "Hope we're feeling fresh and ready for the day!"

Bobby grunted something incoherent from his bed and lifted a hand in greeting.

Viv tensed but then, his eyes snapped to Matteo, who was still there.

Still sitting beside him, legs swinging, face relaxed like he hadn't just dropped a gut-wrenching truth bomb two seconds ago.

Viv blinked in disbelief, relief flooding him like sunlight through a storm cloud. Matteo hadn't vanished. Thank god.

He leaned slightly toward him and whispered, "You should come to breakfast with me."

Matteo raised an eyebrow, amused. "Only if they have those cinnamon rolls again."

Viv smirked faintly, and from across the room, Bobby was still watching the whole exchange with furrowed brows and growing concern.

Viv followed Nurse Carla out into the hallway, her sensible white shoes squeaking faintly against the floor. Bobby shuffled beside him, yawning into his hoodie sleeve, his hair sticking up in all directions.

As they turned the corner, Nurse Carla was gone. Just like that. Replaced seamlessly by Nurse Francine, who was already walking slightly ahead of them with a clipboard tucked under one arm and her usual no-nonsense expression in place.

Beside him, Bobby leaned in a little and whispered under his breath, "Dude... are you okay?"

Viv didn't look at him. "Define 'okay.'"

Bobby hesitated, then dropped his voice even lower. "Who were you talking to? Back in the room. You were, like... muttering."

Viv kept walking, hands jammed deep into the front pocket of his hoodie. He could feel Matteo walking behind them, silent now. "Just my brother," Viv said eventually, voice flat.

"You have a brother?" Bobby asked, like that was new information.

"I did."

Bobby went quiet. For a few steps, it was just the sound of Francine's brisk pace ahead and the occasional squeaky door hinge somewhere down the hall. Then: "You know he's not... really there, right?"

Viv stopped walking for a second. Not because the words hurt, but because they landed too heavily in a place he was already trying to hold together. He turned slightly toward Bobby and offered a thin, tired smile. "Yeah," he said. "I know."

And then he kept walking.

Behind him, Matteo gave a slow clap. "Damn. Good job at keeping your cool, bro."

Viv didn't respond. He just kept his eyes locked on Francine's back and followed her toward the cafeteria, pretending the weight of his hallucination wasn't still breathing down his neck.

Viv scanned the cafeteria the moment he stepped in, eyes skimming past the plastic trays, the clatter of cutlery, the hum of early morning chatter.

Bobby gave him a lopsided wave before veering off toward a table with a few other patients Viv vaguely recognised.

He didn't say anything, just nodded, grateful for the space.

Then his eyes landed on Ash.

They were already sitting at their usual table near the back, hoodie sleeves pulled over their hands, tray untouched in front of them. Their head perked up the second they saw him, and their face lit up in a soft, quiet way that made Viv feel like he was on a cloud.

"Hey," Ash said brightly as Viv slid into the seat beside them. "You made it."

"Look how happy he is to see you," Matteo grinned from the other side of the table.

"They," Viv muttered.

Ash blinked. "Huh?"

"Nothing. Nothing, it's okay," Viv said quickly. "Course I made it. You okay?"

Ash hesitated, then gave a small shrug. "Yeah. Just... kind of sad."

Viv frowned, instantly alert. "Why? What happened?"

Ash sighed and toyed with the corner of a napkin. "Remember when Ava told us she was leaving? Well, she kinda got discharged a few days ago. When we were gone."

"Oh," Viv said. "Shit."

"Yeah," Ash muttered. "I didn't get to say goodbye. One minute she was here, laughing at my dumb drawings and teasing me about you. And now she's gone. Just like that."

"Fuck," Matteo muttered. "That sucks ass."

Viv ignored him and sat back, heart sinking a little.

He hadn't known Ava all that well. Actually, he kinda hated her.

But Ash had loved her. They'd bonded over art and inside jokes and long, meandering conversations that made their days feel less like punishment.

"I'm sorry," he said after a moment. "I should've. .. we shouldn't have run."

Ash looked up, eyes glassy but calm. "No, it's okay. I don't really regret anything. You came back. That's what matters."

Viv wanted to believe that. Wanted to believe he hadn't robbed Ash of something important by being so lost in his own head.

"I'll make her something. A letter. Maybe a card," Ash said, voice quieter now. "Maybe I'll give it to the nurses and they can send it to her."

Viv nodded. "Yeah. She'd like that."

Ash smiled faintly. "She'd probably think I was being too sentimental."

"She'd be right."

Ash elbowed him lightly.

Viv stabbed at his scrambled eggs once they were put in front of him, his appetite nowhere to be found.

Ash was quietly picking at their toast, eyes occasionally flicking to the side to study him.

Viv could feel it, could feel the weight of their curiosity, the way they were trying not to push but couldn't help themselves.

His own eyes kept darting up across the table, where Matteo was sitting casually, like he didn't have a care in the world. Like he wasn't, you know, dead.

Matteo caught him looking and raised an eyebrow. "What? Eat your damn food," he said with a smirk.

Viv rolled his eyes and went back to pretending he wasn't completely losing it.

But Ash noticed.

"Okay," they said slowly, buttering their second slice of toast. "You've looked over there like five times now. What are you seeing?"

Viv stiffened. "What?"

"Why are you rolling your eyes?" Ash asked. Their voice stayed calm and measured in that gentle, understanding way only Ash could do. "Is it... someone? Or something?"

Viv hesitated for a moment. Then, deciding that there was no point in lying, finally said, "Matteo. He's back."

Ash blinked, but didn't flinch. "He is?"

Viv gave a stiff nod, keeping his gaze locked on his plate.

"He's sat at our table?" Ash asked.

Viv nodded again.

Ash paused, chewed on their bottom lip, then reached out and rested their hand briefly over Viv's. "Okay. Thanks for telling me. But... you know what I'm gonna say, right?"

Viv sighed. "That he's not real and that I have to tell Dr. Jacobs."

Ash nodded. "Exactly."

Viv didn't answer at first. He could still feel Matteo's gaze on him, casual and teasing and all-too-real, like he was just another guy in the cafeteria.

"I know," Viv muttered eventually. "I just don't want them to take him away again."

"Well...even if they do, you came back for a reason. You said you wanted to get better."

Viv swallowed. His throat felt tight. He hadn't said it aloud, not in those exact words, but maybe Ash was right. Maybe he did want to get better. Even if it meant letting Matteo go all over again. "Yeah. I will. Don't worry."

"Promise?" Ash asked tiredly.

"I promise."

"Good."

~

It took eight days.

Eight whole days.

Eight torturous, endless, nurse-monitored, group-therapy-filled days of trying to be on his best behaviour before Viv and Ash were finally allowed to room together again.

Apparently, coming back to the hospital after running away wasn't enough.

They had to prove they wouldn't bolt again.

That they were stable. That they wouldn't tear each other apart in the middle of the night, or whatever the nurses were afraid of.

Dr Jacobs called it a "trust process." Viv called it hell.

Those eight days were filled with awkward breakfasts across the cafeteria table, rushed conversations in hallways, and fleeting, barely-there touches when they passed each other during therapy.

They weren't allowed to be alone together.

Well, not really. Not without someone watching them in the rec room.

And Viv was starting to feel like if he didn't get five uninterrupted minutes with Ash soon, he was going to lose it completely.

But tonight, things had changed. Finally, they were given some freedom. Or, well... as close to freedom as two teenagers with a history of psychosis and self-harm could get in a mental hospital.

Their names had been moved on the whiteboard at the nurse's station, and Viv hadn't even let Ash finish reading it before dragging them to the room. He'd thrown open the door like it was some kind of sacred temple and practically collapsed on the mattress with relief.

And now, hours later, the room was dim, the overhead light off and the only glow coming from the hallway nightlight leaking under the door.

Ash had snuck into Viv's bed as soon as the last nurse rounds had passed.

No hesitation. No words, either. They'd just climbed under the covers like it was the most natural thing in the world and curled right into him.

Viv lay on his side, arms loosely around them, his cheek resting against their hair. Ash smelled like lavender shampoo and those cheap hospital dryer sheets. Their hand was tucked between them, right against Viv's chest, fingers slightly curled into the fabric of his t-shirt.

"This okay?" Ash had whispered earlier, voice soft and breath warm against his collarbone.

Viv had mumbled a "Yeah" and pulled them closer.

Now, the silence was peaceful. No Bobby snoring in the bed next to him. No nurses peeking in every hour on the hour. Just him and Ash and the quiet rhythm of breathing in sync. Viv blinked up at the ceiling, his fingers brushing slowly over Ash's back. God, he had missed this.

Ash shifted a little and murmured sleepily, "You're thinking too loud."

Viv smiled, chest tightening in the best kind of way. "Shut up and sleep."

"M'trying," Ash mumbled, already drifting off again. But then he shuffled closer and sighed. "You smell so good."

"I smell like shit," Viv mumbled.

"No, you smell nice," Ash replied, nose bumping against Viv's throat, causing the boy to swallow.

Viv's throat bobbed as Ash's nose brushed right against the sensitive skin there.

It was such a tiny, innocent thing but it sent his brain spiralling in seventeen directions at once.

"Careful," Viv muttered, voice low and strained.

"You keep doing stuff like that and I might get hard again, and then things are gonna get real awkward, real fast."

Ash froze for half a second...and then giggled. Not laughed. Giggled. Like the kind of half-suppressed, snorty noise Viv didn't think he'd ever heard from them before. It made his stomach do something strange. Something light. Like it didn't know whether to tense or flutter.

"Okay, okay," Ash whispered through a grin.

"I'll behave." They pulled their head back just enough to rest their forehead against his chin instead, eyes fluttering shut again.

"Let's talk about something else. Did you see the absolute dumpster fire of a movie they were playing in the rec room earlier? "

Viv snorted. "That one with the talking dog detective?"

"Yes. With the fake British accent!"

"I swear I lost brain cells just watching it," Viv said blandly. "But it was better than more therapy."

"Anything's better than more therapy."

They both chuckled softly, and the room went quiet again for a beat. Then Viv said, a little more seriously, "What do you wanna do? After this place, I mean. Once you get out."

Ash didn't respond right away. Their thumb had found its way under the hem of Viv's shirt and was rubbing idly at his side, like they didn't even realise they were doing it. But fuck, Viv did. He realised. He couldn't not realise. He shuddered a little.

"I dunno," Ash said eventually. "I used to think about it all the time. Like... maybe doing art stuff. Illustration. Or tattoos. But now it's like... I'm just trying to get through the day, you know?"

Viv nodded. "Yeah. I get that. I didn't realise you were so heavily into art."

"I mean, i'm not. But I do like drawing."

"Even on peoples skin?"

"I draw on mine all the time. What's the difference, right?" Ash let out a short, sharp laugh.

Viv didn't laugh. In fact, he frowned and blinked in the dark. Ash must have realised because they cleared their throat awkwardly.

"What about you?" They asked.

Viv thought for a second. "Honestly? I don't even know. Some days I can't see myself living past twenty. And some days I think I could be, like, a mechanic or something. Just... do something with my hands. Something quiet. Away from people."

Ash hummed softly in agreement. "That sounds nice."

They were quiet for another few moments. Viv hesitated, his hand resting gently on Ash's spine. Then he asked, barely above a whisper, "What you just said? About drawing on your skin? Have you... had any thoughts about doing that? Since we came back?"

Ash didn't answer.

The silence stretched on for too long.

Viv's chest tightened, already knowing the answer. It was written in the way Ash's fingers stilled, in how they wouldn't meet his eyes even in the dim light.

"You have," Viv said quietly, more to himself than anything. "Haven't you?"

Ash nodded slowly. "Not like... bad-bad. Just... flashes. I didn't do anything though. I promise. But the thoughts do come back sometimes. When I'm alone. Or right before bed. It's like... like my brain's got a screensaver set to 'worst case scenario.'"

Viv pulled them closer, tucking Ash tighter against him like he could physically protect them from the thoughts in their own head.

"I'm sorry," Ash murmured.

"Don't be," Viv said firmly. "I'm here. Just... tell me next time, yeah? No more silent suffering bullshit. Deal?"

Ash nodded against his chest. "Deal."

The shrill scream of the fire alarm split through the room like a siren straight from hell.

Both Viv and Ash jolted upright in the bed at the same time, hands flying to cover their ears.

"What the fuck—" Viv barely managed to say before the second blaring wave hit, echoing off the walls with a pulse that made the floor seem to vibrate beneath them.

Ash looked wide-eyed, already scrambling out from under the covers. "Is this—? Is there a fire?!"

"I don't know!" Viv shouted over the alarms, hopping off the bed and pulling on his hoodie with shaking hands.

The hallway outside was already a chaos of shouting and motion, the red emergency lights strobing across the pale hospital walls.

Nurse Carla appeared in the doorway, clipboard in hand, her usually composed face creased with urgency. "Out! Everyone out, now. This is not a drill. Let's move!"

Viv grabbed Ash's hand in his, and they both sprinted barefoot down the corridor with the rest of the patients, joining the slow-moving river of sleepy, disoriented bodies filing toward the fire assembly point.

Ash clung to Viv's side, eyes flicking around in confusion and fear. "Do you smell smoke? I don't smell smoke!"

"Me neither," Viv panted, looking behind them. "No flames. No heat. What the hell is going on?"

They passed other nurses guiding people in different directions, some patients sobbing, others eerily calm. Someone in a beanie was shouting something about arson. Another kid was clinging to a stuffed animal like it was a lifeline. The air was thick with noise and panic, but not smoke.

When they finally reached the assembly point in the courtyard outside, cold air biting at their skin, Viv turned in a slow circle. Flashing lights painted everything red and orange, but there was still no fire. No smell. No black clouds curling from the windows.

Ash, breathless, tugged on Viv's sleeve. "Do you think someone pulled it? Like, on purpose?"

Viv narrowed his eyes toward the building, frowning. "Either that... or the system's gone nuts."

Ash looked back toward the doors, the same worry on their face that Viv felt twisting in his gut. Because something about it didn't feel like a drill, but it didn't feel like a real fire either. Neither of them liked this.

Nurse Josh was already pacing down the line of patients, clipboard in hand, calling out names with his usual easy-going calm.

"Okay, Ava's gone, so skip her. Ash, here. Viv, got you. Tasha, cool. Brendan, Mia, Elijah..." His voice trailed as he marked each tick with a quick stroke of his pen.

Meanwhile, the other nurse Steve, the one who always looked like he wanted to throttle someone, was moving down the opposite side of the group like a soldier during inspection, muttering curses under his breath.

"Why is it always this chaotic? Jesus Christ, people, it's not that hard to walk in a straight line. .."

Viv and Ash exchanged a look as Nurse Carla double-checked her own sheet behind them.

Josh stopped abruptly, frowning at his clipboard. "Wait..." He flipped back a page. "I'm one patient short."

"What?" Nurse Carla asked quickly in a panic, scanning her own sheet again.

"I've got nineteen. We're meant to have twenty. Bobby's not here."

Viv's head snapped up. "What?"

Steve let out a frustrated groan like this was exactly the sort of thing he expected to happen. "Of course it's Bobby."

Josh turned to the group, voice raised now. "Has anyone seen Bobby? He was in room 17, right? With Viv?"

"I haven't seen him since last night. I don't room with him anymore," Viv said quickly, chest tightening.

Ash bit their lip. "Could he have just gone to the bathroom and gotten confused?"

Steve was already muttering into his walkie-talkie, voice clipped. "We've got a missing patient. Bobby Michaels, eighteen, ADHD, depressive tendencies. Last seen in room 17."

A strange silence settled over the patients, even the louder ones now watching the nurses with growing unease. Viv's heart was pounding in his throat. For all Bobby's snoring and constant talking, the kid didn't deserve this—whatever this was.

Ash gently touched his arm. "You don't think he... started the alarm, do you?"

Viv didn't answer.

Because he didn't know.

And that was somehow worse.

Everyone was waiting in the muggy night air for a while as the fire alarm still echoed faintly in their ears like phantom ringing.

Some of the younger patients looked dazed and cold, wrapped in thin blankets handed out by Nurse Josh earlier.

Ash stayed close to Viv, rubbing their arms for warmth, while Viv's eyes kept darting back to the building's double doors waiting for Bobby to stumble out, sheepish and confused, maybe with a stupid grin on his face.

But he didn't.

Then the doors did swing open, but it wasn't Bobby. It was Dr. Julie and Dr. Jacobs, both walking with a sense of grim urgency that sent a chill crawling down Viv's spine.

Without saying a word to the patients, they motioned for all the nurses to join them—Carla, Josh, Francine, a few random others, and even Steve, who had just finished barking something into his radio.

They moved off to the side, forming a tight huddle, speaking in hushed voices with their backs partially turned.

It was too quiet. Too tense.

One of the kids, Brendan, spoke up, "Why're they whispering like that? Shouldn't we be going back inside by now? Clearly there's no fire."

"I'm cold," mumbled a girl near the end of the line, hugging herself tighter.

"This is bullshit," somebody else snapped.

Viv felt something coil in his gut. The longer the staff whispered, the more wrong this all felt. Finally, he couldn't take it anymore. "What's going on?" he said, loud enough for them to hear. Ash shushed him nervously but Viv wasn't listening. "Where the hell is Bobby?" he asked loudly.

A few other patients echoed him. "Yeah, what's happening?" and "Why won't you tell us?"

Dr. Julie turned halfway, her expression composed but tight. "We're just making sure the building is safe," she said smoothly. "Please remain calm and stay where you are."

That only made things worse.

"You're hiding something," Viv snapped, stepping forward a little. "We're not idiots."

Dr. Jacobs finally turned to face them, jaw clenched. He looked at Viv with something unreadable in his eyes—exhaustion, maybe, or dread. But he didn't say anything. Just exchanged another low word with Nurse Carla.

Viv's heart began to race. Something bad happened.

He could feel it like static in the air.

His whole body buzzed with adrenaline, and the lack of answers felt like someone pressing a hand over his mouth and nose suffocating him.

"You can't just stand there and act like everything's fine," he barked, stepping forward.

"We're not stupid. Something's wrong. You need to tell us. "

"Stop, Viv," Ash said softly.

"No, they need to tell us!"

Nurse Steve, already known for being the least patient with any of them, immediately took a heavy step forward. "Watch your tone, Vitale," he warned, voice sharp and too loud. "You're about two seconds away from being dragged—"

"Stephen," Dr. Jacobs said firmly, holding out a hand. His voice was calm, but his eyes flicked toward the patients now gathering tighter around Viv and Ash. "That's enough."

Stephen stopped, jaw flexing, clearly biting back more. The circle of whispering staff finally dispersed as Dr. Jacobs stepped toward the patients. His usually warm expression had gone pale and drawn, and he pushed a hand through his greyish hair before addressing them all.

"I need everyone to listen to me carefully," he said softly. "There's no fire."

A few murmurs of relief passed in waves.

"There's no fire because that was just a diversion," he continued.

The murmurs started again, confused and louder now. Viv's stomach sank lower.

"I'm sorry everyone, but one of our patients... Bobby Michaels... was found in a critical state. Despite the staff's best efforts, he..." His voice caught for the briefest moment. "He passed away. Bobby died by suicide."

The crowd stilled.

Silence.

Viv's breath caught in his throat.

"No," someone whispered behind him. Maybe Tasha. Maybe Brendan. It didn't matter.

Ash had gone stiff beside him, a hand covering their mouth, eyes wide.

Dr. Jacobs went on, quiet but steady. "I know this is going to be a lot to process. We'll be bringing everyone back inside shortly and offering support through group and one-on-one sessions. You'll be able to talk to any of us. You're not alone."

But Viv could barely hear the rest. His ears were ringing.

A deep, cold dread filled his chest as the weight of it hit: Bobby—his annoying, snoring, loud ex roommate who never knew when to shut up—was gone.

Just gone. And suddenly, all Viv could think was: If I never switched rooms, would he still be alive right now?