Would he ever wake up?

The blue haired man couldn't bear the thought of staying by this bedside for the rest of his pale lover's life, hearing the beep of the monitor, seeing all those tubes and needles stuck in his skin. It tore Grimmjow apart. And, God forbid, he be asked to pull the plug… He could never live with himself, knowing that he ended Ulquiorra's life while there was still even a slim chance that he would eventually wake up. Even if the there were no chance at all of the green eyed man waking up, Grimmjow would delude himself into believing there still was. He would truly lose his mind.

Every day, Grimmjow would go up to the hospital as early as five in the morning (the hospital Ulquiorra was in, thankfully, did not have a set of rules including "visiting hours") and would stay there until eleven o'clock the next night, and only to change clothes and take a shower. Well, that was the first two weeks. Now, in week seven, he had three suit cases of clothes and other necessities, no job, no apartment, getting money from his parents, and living in the hospital alongside Ulquiorra. All he would do all day is sit in the chair right by Ulquiorra's head or pace. He would be constantly running his fingers through his love's hair, whispering sweet nothings and asking him to please wake up.

He looked back on the night Ulquiorra went into the coma. The brunette had been driving home from his job as a tattoo artist and was hit by a drunk driver. The drunk had plowed right in to the driver side in the middle of the intersection, and kept pushing down on the gas until both cars had crashed into the side of a flower shop. Ulquiorra sustained massive hemorrhaging in his brain, stomach and liver, had his left leg broken in three places and his right arm in four. Grimmjow had gotten a call around midnight from the police telling him about it. They told him that right before Ulquiorra had passed out on the stretcher he had said "Call Grimmjow", so they had. The bluenette had rushed to the city hospital and filled out the report on Ulquiorra's information before waiting in the emergency room lobby, being calmed down by three nurses preventing him from bowling down the doctors performing emergency surgery to get by Ulquiorra's side for ten long, brutal, heart breaking hours. They finally let him see his love about three o'clock, fifteen hours after he'd first received the call.

Tears ran down Grimmjow's face. He blamed himself. Ulquiorra had called him and asked him to pick him up from work because he didn't know if he had enough gas to get to a station before coming home. Grimmjow had assured him that he'd be all right and told him he was really tired from work that day and that he had pulled a muscle in his leg when he had almost fallen down a flight of stairs earlier. If he hadn't have been so selfish, this could have been avoided, because Ulquiorra hadn't been hit until a couple minutes after he had left the gas station. And if they were to get hit anyway, at least he himself would be in that bed instead of his poor Ulquiorra… Grimmjow felt so guilty…

'Ulquiorra… Love… Please wake up…'