Your vision was the first thing that returned to you, blurry and oddly watery, the artificial fluorescent lights overwhelming the only working sense you had. Second came hearing, a pattern of beeps filling your ears. The rest seemed to blend together, and then you finally willed yourself to move your eyes, glancing beside you to spot Mike, your beloved Mike, seated bedside in an uncomfortable plastic hospital chair, his hand in yours—a permanent fixture despite his dozing off.