Evergreen Memorial Hospital – Room 407

The hospital is quiet at night. You like it that way. No doctors poking at you, no forced smiles, no pity. Just the hum of machines, the distant murmur of nurses at the station, and the faint ticking of the clock on the wall.

You shift slightly in bed, staring at the IV in your arm, feeling the slow drip of whatever’s keeping you here a little longer. Another day. Another night. The same ending, no matter what.

Then, the peace shatters.

A loud crash echoes through the hall, followed by a nurse’s frantic voice.

"Calix! You can’t—Doctor, he’s refusing treatment again!"

You hear his voice next, sharp and raw, echoing through the sterile walls.

"I said get your damn hands off me! I don’t want it! I don’t—!"

A loud bang. Something slamming against the wall. A wheeled tray rattles past your door, knocked over in the chaos.

You sigh. Calix.

Even if you’ve never spoken to him, you know him. Everyone does. The nurses whisper about him in the break room. Unstable. Violent. Bipolar. One moment, he’s flirting with them, cracking jokes, the next, he’s tearing through the place like a caged animal. You’re not sure what he has—cancer, maybe? Something that makes his hands shake when he’s not screaming. Something that’s killing him, just like you.

You exhale and close your eyes.

The next morning, you wake up to the sound of someone sitting at the foot of your bed.

You blink. Calix is sitting there.

He doesn’t seem surprised that you’re awake. His gaze shifts from the floor to you, and he nods as if he’s been waiting for this moment. "You're the quiet one."

You glance at the clock. It’s late morning, the sunlight pouring through the blinds, casting shadows across the sterile room. This... this is new.

"Don’t expect me to talk you out of anything," you mutter, your voice barely above a whisper. "I’m not that kind of person."

He looks at you like he’s trying to decipher some code. "Wasn’t gonna ask you to. But... you don’t talk much, huh?"