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Normally, things weren't like this. Normally, Geald would, at the very least, be able to move a limb or two - but not today. Or, at the very least, not fully.
His eyelids hurt; They felt as if they were glued shut. Everything was black, and the room he was in was silent and lonely. But he was still awake. He was still alive, and would most likely, not die this time, just like he hadn't in the previous God-knows-how-many times.
Gerald wanted to chuckle, but his lips wouldn't move. Or maybe he just couldn't feel them move. The painkillers he got must have been pretty fucking strong.
What had happened this time? All he remembered was that he had, once again, gotten into an accident. But how? With whom? Who else was hurt? How long has he been tied to this bed? Was he in a hospital? He couldn't hear, nor smell anything that would suggest that. Now that he was thinking about it, could he hear or smell at all? It was almost as if all his senses had just vanished.
He tried to move his left arm - the only limb that seemed to be somewhat movable in the first place - but he couldn't feel it move. He knew there must have been pain going through his body when he tried to touch the fabric of the blanket covering him with his broken fingers, but he didn't actually feel anything.
Despite not being able to see, feel, hear or even smell or taste anything, Gerald still felt that he wasn't alone. He knew there was somebody next to him, even though he felt like he was in a void of nothingness. He was always there. He would never leave. That's what he had promised.
In the first couple of days - God knows how many days that have been - the numbness would not leave him. But as time went on, he slowly got his senses back and could confirm that he was, in fact, in a hospital bed, simply from the softness of the bedsheets and the feeling of getting checked on by nurses and doctors multiple times a day. Those frequent visits, however, made him feel a little anxious. He wouldn't come unless he was alone. And frankly, he had better things to do than wait for Gerald to be left alone.
However, this fear suddenly vanished after Gerald got his sense of touch back. While the pain in every single bone, limb and joint was unbearable, every now and then, in the night when he was alone, he would feel a warm cloud blown into his face. He immediately understood that that was smoke - and who else would smoke in the middle of the night around someone who was barely alive, except for SCP 4999?
Even though he couldn't see or hear him, just knowing that he was there.. it was comforting. It was what kept him going, even though it probably shouldn't, considering that the SCP supposedly only manifests around those who are on their deathbeds. But Gerald seemed to be an exception. He would always appear when he got hurt, even if just for a short while, and keep him calm. He would talk to him and reassure him that everything was going to be alright.
The second time ever the mysterious man appeared, he looked to be suprised to see the same guy again. But he didn't say anything and did what he always did - offer him a cigarette and make sure he was calm and, most importantly, not alone.
When he manifested for the third time, he decided that the man must be something special for still being alive, despite all the deadly injuries. Ever since, both had stopped counting how many times they had met. Their conversations even became much more personal, though, only from Geralds side. 4999 would rarely talk, let alone about himself. Gerald was unsure if he even had anything about himself to talk about, but he still enjoyed the anomalous man's company, who seemed to enjoy the doctors company as well.
His sense of taste and smell were the second senses he got back, thus, he couldn't only feel the smoke blown into his face, but he could also feel the disgusting, unpleasant odor, that made him cough a little. He even sensed that 4999 said something - something comforting, uplifting, as usual - and despite not being able to hear him, Gerald felt himself relax.
That was until a few days later when his hearing and his eyesight got better again. Only then he could recall the accident, though he preferred not to think about the damage he had done with just a skateboard.
He had spent the entire day talking to a nurse, ignoring how his throat was dry and hurt, no matter how much water he drank. This entire time in the hospital, everyone who would come see him would mention over and over again how it was a miracle he survived, and Gerald would only nod and smile, despite feeling annoyed by their company. He just wanted to be left alone - he wanted to see his friend again.
When night finally replaced day, Gerald felt his heart pick up on pace. Even though he could feel the man's presence before, finally he would see him again, and that was what he looked forward to every time he came in this situation. He wanted to see his face and hear his voice again. He wanted to talk to him and feel his hand on his shoulder as his friend gave him a warm smile and told him how he was going to be okay and that he was not going to leave him.
Impatiently, Gerald looked down on his left arm. Surprisingly, it was not broken, just very badly injured. He could move it, though it was quite painful. But that was okay, because his other limbs were all covered in plaster. Even his head and an eye had bandages around them, and he was sure that some of his ribs were broken as well. He was just grateful for all the body parts that were still useable.
Suddenly, he could hear someone move a chair closer to his bed. He turned around, ignoring the pain in his neck, and couldn't help but smile when he saw the man in front of him.
-"You remembered..", Gerald mumbled, a warm smile creeping on his face.
-"Of course I haven't. How could I not remember the man who death had forgotten but bad luck hadn't?"
Gerald prayed to whatever God was out there that his heart would stop beating so fast. The heart monitor attached to him would surely alert someone if it didn't stop.
-"I'm so glad to see you.."
-"You don't have to worry...you're no longer alone"
The man took a pack of cigarettes out of the pocket of his suit. He produced two cigarettes out of it, offering one to the doctor, as he always did.
Normally, Gerald wouldn't accept the offer, but tonight.. tonight was different.
The man smiled as he carefully raised his hand to take it. 4999 seemed to be happy that he accepted for once and held it out a bit further, so Gerald wouldn't need to move his arm too much; however, as soon as he had the cigarette between his fingers, it fell down. 4999 figured Geralds fingers must simply hurt too much and wanted to get it for him, but to his surprise, the other man quickly grabbed his hand.
Gerald ignored the pain as he intertwined their fingers, a shy smile forming on his face. The SCP seemed confused - nothing alike had ever happened to him before. But Geralds cold hand would not let his own go, and maybe, just maybe, he even liked the feeling a little.
4999 put his cigarette back in his pocket and let his hand rest on the white blanket that was covering the injured man's body.
-"Your hand is so nice and warm..", Gerald mumbled.
-"Yours is really cold.."
Gerald felt a sharp pain go through his injured fingers as he hissed and reflexively let go. 4999 immediately put his own hand away as well, picking up the cigarette Gerald had previously dropped and put it into his own mouth. He took a lighter from his pocket as he lit it.
-"Don't worry", he said, his voice calm and charming as always.
-"Everything will be right.."
Carefully, the SCP raised his free hand and put it on the doctors cheek. He didn't fully understand why he did it, but it felt like it was the right thing to do. After all, his job was to make sure people were calm and not afraid in their last moments, and even though it seemed as if these weren't Geralds last moments, he still wanted him to be relaxed.
Soon, as the doctor leaned into the anomalous man's touch, he could feel the skin getting warmer and warmer. He smiled , but that smile soon faded as the heart monitor that was attached to the injured man started making loud, alarming beeping noises.
Quickly, 4999 let go. He sensed someone was coming, and got up.
-"I will come back soon, okay? Wait for me here"
-"But-"
Before Gerald could say anything, he turned to the door that had opened. A concerned woman ran into the room, before he could even say goodbye, and as soon as he turned back to where the SCP was previously sitting, there was nothing left but an empty chair and a lit, barely touched cigarette.