Chapter Text
The room is cold, not just in the atmosphere alone but physically cold. Hospital rooms always were, even more so when you were one of the ill.
Sparse in decorations and very little color, even the children’s sections were still a bit plain as they tried to soothe the kids with the appearance of the occasional cartoon character.
Dr. Picani never liked them for part of this reason. It sucks the energy out of a person to be stuck in such a soulless room. He could feel himself growing weaker, heart-moving sluggishly and lungs slowing down. It wasn’t all because of the room, no, he may dislike its plainness and wish the last thing he’d see wasn’t white walls but his pile of adorable stuffed animals in his room.
That’s why he’d strived to decorate his own office as much as he could to make a very warm environment...Well also because he just really loved cartoons.
He would do anything to have his Stitch plush to cuddle with right now, instead of alone with these hard, unfeeling machines.
He’s dying…And he knows this.
Even with this knowledge, he has no worry for himself, no he’s worried about his patients. He was doing so well with a few of them. So much progress, he feels sorry that he can’t stick around to help them further or watch as they grow. He was worried most of all for the most recent patient he had acquired before falling ill.
He’d met a delightful young man by the name of Thomas Sanders he had only gotten on session in with the young man having grown too ill to do another session. Thomas had come in for help with his mental health, he was a bit strange sometimes with how he’d talk to himself our how he referred to his feelings.
Picani’s eyes grow heavier by the second, closing practically of their own accord as his thoughts continue to wonder.
He wished more than anything he could have more time with the young man, to learn more about him, and give him at least some insightful guidance.
Machines beeped angrily around him in their shrill tones, muffled shouting echoing outside the room just as it all slowly grows silent to his own ears as he releases a shallow breath.
He knows what’s coming but…he can’t stop his hesitancy to let go.
…I wish I had another chance to help.