Everybody Hurts

A consistent beeping filled the silence of the room, corrupting it, ricocheting from each, blinding white curtain and wall. The sharp and yet at the same time, faint intonation was emitting from a small monitor resided in the middle of the diminutive and otherwise crowded room, beside a single twin, occupied, bed in which was secured upon the wall albeit propping and holding itself upon slick obsidian tires. A single window elicited the feeble light of the moon beyond, cracked open gently as to whisk in fresh air, the rain and rumbles of earth shattering, boisterous claps of thunder perfectly and painfully loud. There were three occupants present; a young battered man unconscious – the only current occupier of the doubtlessly uncomfortable hospital mattress – and two others, around the same age, seated lethargically on opposite sides of him.

The other male was covered in tattoos and piercings and his clothes resembled that of some street punk; a foreign face, unlike the mortally wounded boy and the female lounging upon the seat across from him, on the right. She too was dressed in a similar fashion, yet more sensible and feminine – no visible tattoos, no piercings, no physical abnormalities. Her hands were wrapped around the comatose man's nearest hand that had, only moments before, been covered in IV's and wires that would have proved to be hazardous, given their previous placement, for her to try and hold his hand earlier than she had. Both of the martyr's companions were staring at the heart monitor to the right, just staring.

Staring, breathing, and waiting. As they had been doing for hours after the lacerated man had been pulled off of life support.

Outside of the room was very much the same as far as far as scorn had gone. Another trio was seated just across the hall; close enough to see the room, but too far away to hear what the conscious duo was saying to one another – if they said anything at all. Otherwise, ICU was dauntingly silent. Bo Dennis sat on the edge of the cushioned seat in which she resided, apprehensively fiddling with her thumbs and looking fixatedly at her lap; as she had been doing since she arrived at the Hospital. Lauren, still wearing her Lab Coat and casual attire underneath, sat close beside her. Her hands were folded neatly in her lap and her own gaze resting upon the room across from them. Hale was discussing with another police officer about the dying man's case.

Evidently, it wasn't an accident. It was a hit and run, and this man's alleged murder was still cruising somewhere out there.

"It's starting." Observed Lauren softly, her tone but a gentle whisper of acknowledgement. At the sudden voice, one of which having pierced an eerie silence, Bo raised her head and found herself staring at the familiar scene. No one in the room opposite had seemed to move an inch. "His heart rate is beginning to lower, his vitals are shutting down." She shook her head as she explained the situation with a gentle frown, despite not knowing the passing boy personally, however sympathizing with the two that did. "He'll crash in no more than maybe, perhaps a minute."

Bo sighed and gripped her lover's hand. He was young. He had a life ahead of him. It was a shame it had to come to this. "I feel like I should be in there," She admitted, "to support Kenzi. But at the same time, I feel like I shouldn't, you know? Like I would be invading something private."

"You are supporting Kenzi just by being here, honey."

An unwelcome, but expected sound elicited from the monitor next. Both Bo and Lauren simultaneously removed their attention from one another and to the room ahead, one in which Ozzy was flat-lining. The other two occupants sat up a little straighter but for a moment or so, their gaze did not falter from the beeping machine. The unknown boy turned to stare at Kenzi, then the deceased, tears brimming within his eyes, threatening to fall but not quite doing so. Kenzi, on the other hand, did not even try to hold anything back. Her breathing got noticeably heavier, and though Bo could not see her face, she knew the young Russian was crying – and her heart constricted when she leaned to rest her forehead on Ozzy's limp palm.

Lauren seemed to be struggling with her Doctor side, for the fidgeting in her seat had not gone unnoticed. Had it not been for the scene across the hall, Bo would have smiled.

It was only moments later when another Doctor quietly entered the room; he was in his later years, with graying hair and wrinkly hands, and seemed humble enough. He said something neither of the two seated outside could hear (but undoubtedly his condolences), to the grieving pair before moving to turn the monitor off – replacing the terrible intonation with nothing but mourning sobs. Kenzi didn't move an inch.

The ride back to the den, hours later, was completely silent.

Even when both Bo and Kenzi were alone, all the younger girl had done was throw her stiletto boots across the room and curled up on the couch without a word or another tear shed. The Succubus knew that all she was doing was withdrawing into herself and that this was her way of lamenting and for the most part, left her to be alone to shower, pour herself a glass of wine, and attempt to fall asleep. A fruitless effort, for her thoughts proceeded to circulate around her best friend, her sister, downstairs, and she could hardly keep her eyes closed for more than a minute. And so she sighed, slipped on her Kimono, and headed to the living room.

"I know it's kind of a stupid question," Began Bo uncertainly, her hands gripping the back of the couch as she hovered nervously behind it, "but, are you.. are you alright?"

Still, Kenzi did not turn to look at her. Her knees drew tighter against her chest and she stared absently ahead of her, arms drawn around her legs. The older woman noticed the distinct lack of any tears and for a moment was momentarily thankful – in the most non-selfish way, of course. Seeing Kenzi cry, no matter over what, was something Bo never wanted to witness again. She knew there would be hardships in the future, more importantly the near future, that may cause some tears here and there, but it was heartbreaking; and if there was something that Bo hated more than the Dark Fae and the Morrigan, it was feeling completely helpless, especially to her best friend.

Kenzi shook her head, her voice uncharacteristically monotonous, however soft. "No."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Bo tried again with a furrowed brow, suddenly becoming desperate. She did not want to see Kenzi withdraw within herself like this, not anymore.

"No."

"..Do you want to be alone?"

At last, Kenzi turned to look over her shoulder, her eyes brimming with threatening tears that would not fall. The two best friends locked eyes for quite some time before the young Russian spoke again, and it was during this time that Bo was preparing to take her reluctant leave. "…No." The Succubus did not need to be told twice and did not linger behind that retched couch for more than another second. She lowered herself beside Kenzi, whom had instantaneously leaned against her side, and subconsciously wrapped her arm around her petite frame, pulling her close to her chest. It was a painfully familiar scene, but somehow it was different.

Very different.

"Everything is going to be okay, Kenz." Bo whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of Kenzi's head. Her lips lingered there for a moment before she pulled away. "But it'll be tough to move on, and I'll be right next to you every step of the way."

"You always are, BoBo." Kenzi mumbled, gripping her tighter and stifling a yawn. The older woman did the same, resting her head against the Goth's and gingerly closing her eyes.

"Well, it's my job. What else are best friends for?"

I honestly don't know where this came from, but my hands have a mind of their own, started typing, and this was the final result. It's a one-shot, merely here just to express the friendship between Bo and Kenzi (albeit in very little words..x.x).

Other than that, I hope you like it and please review with your thoughts! :)