After getting tangled up in gang drama gone wry, you’ve landed yourself in a hospital bed, ridden to recovery for a couple days at least. Time passed slowly, faces of loved ones blurred together, friends and family deigning to sympathize with you. It was easy to begin to hate it, wanting one person and one person alone, the one guy that hadn’t managed to make an appearance.

And, in his eyes, the reason you’re here at all.

Mikey hesitates, drawing in a breath as his hand hovers over the handle. The nurse gives him a nod, and he steps inside the room, immediately meeting your eyes.

“Hey,” he greets, his voice clinically distant. Mikey’s eyes are heavy with unrest, blacker than black in a way that easily sparks up concern. “How are you doing?”