Chapter 24 Caught
The morning light filtered in pale and slow through the narrow hospital window. It bled across the linoleum floor and the edge of the single bed where Viv lay, unmoving.
Ash was curled beneath him, one arm slung lazily around Viv's waist, their breath warm and steady against his chest. Their face was soft in sleep, eyebrows finally relaxed, mouth parted just slightly. They looked so small like this. So peaceful.
Viv didn't feel peaceful.
His eyes were open, heavy, staring past the cracks in the ceiling paint.
He hadn't really slept. Not properly. Every time his eyes started to close, images of Bobby filled the dark behind his eyelids—Bobby joking with his stupid loud voice, Bobby snoring like a freight train, Bobby asking him if he was okay with genuine concern. .. Bobby, now dead.
What if I'd said something?
He hadn't liked the guy much, no—but he hadn't hated him either. Not really. And now all Viv could think about was how easily he'd brushed him off. How Bobby had looked at him that last morning before Viv turned toward Ash like Bobby hadn't been there at all.
What if I'd stayed in the room longer? What if I'd asked him how he was? What if I'd just—
Viv swallowed hard, his throat dry, chest tight. He was used to feeling like death was close—looming around corners, lurking under the surface of his own mind—but this was different. This was someone else. Someone real.
And the most fucked-up part was that Viv couldn't even cry about it. His body didn't know how. Instead, it just felt like something was rotting slowly inside him, leaving a pit in his stomach too big to fill.
Ash stirred a little, mumbling something incoherent, before pressing closer and nuzzling under Viv's chin. That small, instinctual gesture sent a wave of guilt through him so sharp he almost winced.
Bobby didn't have this.
Viv laid there, fingers twitching uselessly against Ash's back.
What if it had been me? What if next time, it is me?
Ash shifted again and let out a sleepy sigh. Viv held them tighter, breathing them in like an anchor, something real and grounding.
But even then, the silence left behind by Bobby's absence echoed louder than ever.
Nurse Carla pushed open the door with her usual practiced knock and sing-song voice.
"Good morning, you two. Time to get up for—"
She stopped dead in her tracks.
Viv's heart dropped as he and Ash both slowly turned to look at her. They were still tucked under the same blanket, Ash half-asleep and blink-blind with bed hair, their arm looped around Viv's middle, legs tangled.
Carla's expression flattened. The warmth drained from her voice in a heartbeat.
"That is not hospital policy," she said firmly, eyes locked on Viv like it was entirely his fault. "You know the rules. One bed per patient. No exceptions."
Ash sat up quickly, rubbing their eyes. "Sorry, we weren't—nothing happened. We were just... sleeping."
"I don't care if you were doing the cha-cha in there or reciting Shakespeare," Carla said, voice stern. "It doesn't matter. This is a medical facility, not a sleepover. Dr. Jacobs made an exception placing you in the same room. Don't make us regret it."
Viv's jaw clenched. He wanted to snap back—wanted to say that after what happened with Bobby, maybe a bit of closeness wasn't the worst thing in the world—but instead, he just nodded stiffly.
"Won't happen again," he muttered.
Carla crossed her arms, then glanced at her clipboard. "Good. Now get dressed. Breakfast in ten."
She turned and left, the door clicking shut a little harder than necessary.
Ash exhaled, flopping backward on the bed. "That was mortifying."
Viv groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "No shit."
They sat there in silence for a second before Ash turned their head toward him, voice soft. "She's right though. We can't give them a reason to split us up again."
Viv stared at the ceiling again.
"Yeah," he said. But inside, it felt like everything was already beginning to pull apart.
Ash turned onto their side and looked at Viv for a long moment, their eyes full of quiet worry.
"Something's wrong," they said softly. "Is it... is it about Bobby?"
The way they said his name, so carefully, like it might shatter the air itself, cut straight through Viv like a knife.
Viv didn't answer right away. He could feel the emotion tightening in his chest, like he was trying to hold back water with clenched fists.
"I can't stop thinking about him," he said eventually, voice low and strained. "How we didn't notice. How no one noticed."
Ash sat up slowly, eyes never leaving Viv's face. "It wasn't your fault. Bobby was... he was struggling quietly. A lot of us do."
"But he was my roommate," Viv said, his voice trembling. "He was there every night. And I thought— I thought he was annoying, Ash. I was pissed off at him for snoring and talking too much. And now he's—"
"Stop." That was all Ash said before reaching out, placing their hand over his. A firm, grounding touch. "You're finding your own way through all this. You can't carry every person who doesn't make it."
Viv lifted his eyes from the floor to Ash. "Then why isn't anyone talking about him? Why did they just move on like nothing happened?"
"I think people are scared," Ash replied. "Because when you really think about it, you realise how thin the line is between 'okay' and 'not okay'. And that's terrifying."
Silence settled between them. Morning light was filtering through the small window, casting soft shadows across the floor.
Then Ash said, quietly: "I think about things too, you know. When everything goes quiet. When my head gets too loud..."
Viv nodded slowly, like he finally understood.
"I just don't want to lose you," he whispered.
Ash gave him a small, sad smile. "Then don't turn yourself into Bobby's shadow. Don't let his story become your ending too."
Viv didn't say anything for a long time. His throat felt tight, and his heart was doing that awful thudding thing it always did when something real was happening. something raw.
He looked down at their hands, still clasped. Ash's thumb had started tracing slow, absentminded circles against his skin. That tiny motion grounded him more than any therapy session ever had.
"Sometimes..." Viv began, barely louder than a whisper, "I think about it too. You know. Not being here. Ending it."
Ash didn't interrupt. Just waited.
Viv's eyes stung, but he pushed through it. "I used to want it. So bad. Just to disappear. Quietly. Like I was never here in the first place." He let out a soft, bitter laugh. "God, that sounds so dramatic."
"It's not," Ash said gently. "It's just honest."
Viv swallowed, hard. "But now... I don't think I could. Not anymore."
Ash looked up at him, brows furrowed, like they weren't sure where he was going with that.
"Because I have you," Viv said. The words were awkward and stiff in his mouth, but they were real. "And I know that's, like, disgustingly cringey or whatever, but it's true. You make me want to stick around. Just to see what happens next."
Ash didn't speak. Didn't laugh or joke or roll their eyes. They just leaned forward and pressed their forehead softly to his. "I'm glad you're still here," they whispered, pressing a soft kiss to Viv's throat. "So, so glad."
And for the first time in what felt like years, Viv believed that kinda was too.
~
The sun had dipped low by the time Viv found himself outside Dr. Jacobs' office, the corridor lit in a sickly orange hue from the setting light spilling in through the high, barred windows.
The hospital had been quieter than usual all day.
It was way too quiet. No music from the rec room.
No chatter over board games. Even the nurses seemed to be walking softer, their smiles a little tighter. Nobody had said Bobby's name. Not once.
But the silence screamed it.
Dr. Jacobs' door creaked open with that same familiar groan, and Viv stepped inside, sinking into the well-worn chair opposite the desk like he'd been coming here all his life.
The office smelled faintly of peppermint tea and old paper, and for a second, Viv hated how comforting it was.
Like normal still existed. Like Bobby's bed wasn't empty now.
Dr. Jacobs closed the door gently behind him. He didn't sit at the desk today. instead, he pulled the second armchair closer and took a seat directly across from Viv, hands folded neatly in his lap. His face was soft, tired. "Thanks for coming," he said, voice low. "How's your day been?"
Viv gave a weak shrug. "Fine."
Dr. Jacobs nodded, like he'd expected that. "Things have been a little heavy around here."
Viv scoffed. "Bit of an understatement." He didn't mean for it to come out so bitter. It just did.
The doctor didn't flinch. "You're not wrong."
They sat in silence for a few seconds, the ticking of the wall clock filling the space between them.
Viv sighed and leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "No one's saying anything. About Bobby, I mean. It's like if we pretend hard enough, he won't be gone."
Dr. Jacobs nodded again. "People grieve in strange ways. Sometimes silence feels safer than truth."
Viv picked at a loose thread on the arm of the chair. "It feels like we're all just holding our breath, Doc. Like if anyone mentions him, the whole place might fall apart."
"And what happens if it does?" Dr. Jacobs asked gently.
Viv looked up. His eyes were tired. "I don't know. Maybe it needs to."
Dr. Jacobs didn't respond right away. He just sat there, steady and calm, like he always was. Like he could wait all night if Viv needed him to.
"Tell me what's sitting on your chest," he said softly. "The thing that won't leave you alone."
Viv looked away, out of the window. "I keep thinking it could've been me."
Dr. Jacobs nodded like he'd been expecting that.
Viv kept his eyes fixed on the window. "There were nights where I.
.. where I thought about it. Really thought about it.
And I'm not saying I was braver than Bobby, or stronger, or anything like that.
I just—" He swallowed hard. "I got lucky.
I had Ash. If I didn't..." His voice cracked, so he stopped talking.
The silence was thick again, but this time it felt heavier, like it had teeth.
"You're allowed to feel that," Dr. Jacobs said. "You're allowed to feel grief. And guilt. Even confusion. That doesn't make you weak. It makes you human."
Viv let out a breath that felt like it had been trapped in his chest since yesterday morning.
"It just pisses me off. Everyone's acting like it didn't happen.
Like he wasn't here. Like he wasn't annoying and loud and.
.. and kinda funny sometimes, in a dumb way.
" He blinked quickly, eyes burning. "He deserved more than being a silence. "
Dr. Jacobs nodded slowly. "You miss him."
"Not really, I just feel bad."
"Bad?"
"I wasn't always the nicest to him."
"I'm sure he appreciated your company anyway."
"Maybe," Viv mumbled.
They sat like that for a while. No probing questions. No therapy-speak. Just space. Space for Viv to finally feel the ache he'd been trying to ignore.
After a while, Dr. Jacobs leaned forward. "I want to acknowledge something else you said. That if you didn't have Ash, things might be different."
Viv tensed slightly. He didn't like the idea of someone poking around that part of his heart.
But Dr. Jacobs just said, "It's okay to find something that gives you a reason to stay, however Nurse Carla mentioned something to me this morning and I just wanted to follow through."
Viv immediately cringed, heat crawling up the back of his neck. He didn't even need Dr. Jacobs to finish the sentence because he already knew what this was about. "Right," he muttered, dragging a hand down his face. "The whole...bed thing."
Dr. Jacobs gave a small sigh, not angry, not exactly disapproving either. "Look, Viviano, I'm not here to lecture you. I'm not upset. But Nurse Carla was right to bring it up. You know the policy on physical boundaries between patients."
Viv groaned. "It wasn't like that. I mean, okay, yeah, we were in the same bed, but it's not like we were doing anything. We were just... sleeping. Like literally just sleeping."
"I believe you," Dr. Jacobs said, and his tone was calm, understanding.
"But rules exist for a reason. Not everyone here is in a place where that kind of closeness is helpful or safe.
Whether that's for themselves or for others.
And even if you and Ash are both consenting and emotionally aware, it's still something that has to be monitored carefully. You understand that, right?"
Viv nodded, looking down at his hands. "Yeah. It's just... Ash was upset. I was upset. And we just... needed to feel like someone was there."
"I get that. I do," Dr. Jacobs said gently. "I'm not going to separate you two again, not unless I see a real concern. But I do need your word that you'll respect the rules going forward."
Viv looked up, eyes honest. "Okay. I promise."
Dr. Jacobs nodded once, satisfied. "Good. That's all I needed to hear."
But even as the conversation shifted back into safer territory, Viv could still feel the sting of shame sitting somewhere under his skin.
He didn't regret being close to Ash. Nope.
Not even a little. But the idea of anyone thinking they were doing something inappropriate?
That stung worse than he'd expected. Because for once, what they had actually felt.
.. innocent. And now he was worried it might get taken away.
Still, he nodded along and tried to listen as Dr. Jacobs moved the session forward. Because if there was one thing he'd learned by now, it was this: sometimes, surviving meant playing by the rules even the ones that didn't seem fair.