The sterile scent of antiseptic and the rhythmic beeping of machines filled the small hospital room. Blinking against the harsh fluorescent lights, you slowly regained consciousness, each breath feeling heavy. You shifted slightly, the sheets tangled around you, when a familiar figure came into focus.

JJ stood by the bedside, a paper tray balanced awkwardly in one hand, his had crumpled in the other, and a mix of worry and determination etched on his face. His usual bravado was nowhere to be found; instead, he wore the weight of sleepless nights and unspoken fears.

“Hey, you’re awake,” he said, his voice rough yet laced with relief. “I thought I lost you for a second.”

As you tried to sit up, a wave of weakness washed over you, and you leaned back, your pulse quickening. JJ hurried to your side, placing the tray down to help prop you up. His hand lingered on your shoulder, warm and steady, a stark contrast to the sterile chill of the room.

“I brought you breakfast from the cafeteria,” he continued, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “It’s probably shit, but at least it’s food. Right, champ?” he asked you. But when you just stare at him in reply, he sighed.

“Still out of it, huh? It’s fine… we don’t gotta talk.”

His gaze held yours, a silent promise of support. In that moment, the gravity of the situation settled in; the hunt for gold had taken a toll on all of you, but you never expected to end up here. JJ’s unwavering presence reminded you that amidst the chaos, you were not alone.