#room304

ROOM 304 | VISIT 1

>>>sick!sam x volunteer reader

>>>warning: cancer, hints of character death, angst (??)

SUMMARY:

Sam, newly diagnosed with leukemia, is jaded, bitter, and emotionally shut down. He spends his days pushing people away. Then, one afternoon, a girl appears—claiming to be a hospital volunteer. He tries to ignore her, but she’s persistent. Soft. Different.

A/N: I watched Five Feet Apart and thought of Sam so…

This will be my first multi-chaptered story so let me know if you guys want more!

ROOM 304 | VISIT 2

>>>sick!sam x volunteer reader

>>>warning: cancer, hints of character death, angst (??)

SUMMARY:

Sam, newly diagnosed with leukemia, is jaded, bitter, and emotionally shut down. He spends his days pushing people away. Then, one afternoon, a girl appears—claiming to be a hospital volunteer. He tries to ignore her, but she’s persistent. Soft. Different.

<<< VISIT 1 | VISIT 3 >>>

ROOM 304 | VISIT 3

>>>sick!sam x volunteer reader

>>>warning: cancer, hints of character death, angst (??)

SUMMARY:

Sam, newly diagnosed with leukemia, is jaded, bitter, and emotionally shut down. He spends his days pushing people away. Then, one afternoon, a girl appears—claiming to be a hospital volunteer. He tries to ignore her, but she’s persistent. Soft. Different.

<<<VISIT 2 | VISIT 4 >>>>

“You’re going to keel over.”

“Shut up. I’m pacing myself.”

“You’ve walked, like, six steps.”

“Yeah. And they were impressive steps.”

Sam grunted as he adjusted the IV pole, dragging it beside him like a reluctant dance partner. His hospital slippers scuffed over the sidewalk while the early morning sun filtered through the trees, painting gold on everything it touched.

You held the gate open with one hand and your drink in the other, waiting for him to catch up like you weren’t deliberately slowing down.

“You good?” you asked, softer now.

“Peachy,” he muttered, but he didn’t stop walking.

The hospital garden was quiet this early — just trimmed hedges, a few tired rose bushes, and benches that creaked like they were holding secrets. You had asked him to come out here all week. He’d resisted, rolled his eyes, said things like “what’s the point of looking at plants I can’t eat?”

But today, for whatever reason, he said yes.

You didn’t question it.

You just walked beside him in silence for a while. Not awkward. Not forced. Just quiet. Like the world had taken a breath with you.

*

There was a patch of lavender near the stone wall. You plucked a sprig and offered it to him without saying anything. He took it. Rolled it between his fingers. “…You like this place?” he asked finally.

You shrugged. “Yeah. Makes the hospital feel a little less like a prison.”

Sam’s jaw tightened. “Don’t say that.”

You tilted your head. “Why? It’s true.”

He didn’t answer right away. Just stared at the lavender in his hand like it might give him a reason not to break. You nudged him with your shoulder. “You’re allowed to talk about it.”

“Yeah, well… I don’t want to. Not right now.” His voice cracked. “I just want to—pretend. Like this is normal. Like I’m normal.”

You looked around at the garden. The morning sun. The empty bench you’d end up sitting on soon. “Okay,” you said. “Then it’s normal. We’re just two messed-up teenagers skipping school to look at boring flowers.”

Sam exhaled a breathy laugh. “God,” he muttered. “You’re annoying.”

You grinned. “You like it.”

*

Later, while you were brushing crumbs off your jeans, he said something quieter. “You don’t talk about yourself much.”

You shrugged. “I’m here for you.”

He tilted his head, jaws locked. “You don’t owe me anything.”

“That’s what makes it real.”

Sam didn’t reply. Not right away.

He just reached for the marker and started drawing something on the edge of his tray. A girl in a hoodie with a giant frog on her shoulder and a heart floating above her head like a cartoon thought bubble.

You rolled your eyes. “Is that supposed to be me?”

“Dunno,” he said, not looking up. “She looks too nice.”

You leaned over and drew devil horns on the head. “Fixed it.”

*

As you were packing up to leave, you coughed.

Just once. Into your sleeve.

You said, “See you tomorrow,” like always.

But Sam frowned.

And this time, he did watch you leave.

<<<VISIT 2 | VISIT 4 >>>>

ROOM 304 | VISIT 4

>>>sick!sam x volunteer reader

>>>warning: cancer, hints of character death, angst (??)

SUMMARY:

You decide to sneak Sam out to the rooftop for a night out and get to know each other even more.

<<< VISIT 3 | VISIT 5 >>>

The plan wasn’t complicated.

Which made it your kind of plan.

“Come on,” you whispered as you slipped into Sam’s dark room one minute after lights out, holding a blanket like contraband and your finger to your lips in warning.

Sam blinked, half-asleep, IV cord still clipped to the rolling pole beside him. “What the hell—”

“Shhh. Get up. We’re breaking out.”

“Breaking out? What is this, The Shawshank Redemption?”

“More like Ferris Bueller.” You tilt your head towards the door. “Come on.”

He grumbled but didn’t fight you. Not really. Not when you knelt beside him to unhook the brake on the IV pole, not when you handed him his hoodie, not even when you said, “Trust me.”

Because somehow, he did.

*

The hospital rooftop was colder than you expected. Windy. Vast. You spread out the blanket in the corner, just beneath a patch of sky not blocked by fluorescent glow or steel scaffolding. The stars were faint. But they were stars.

Sam stared at them like he’d forgotten they still existed.

For a while, you didn’t talk. You just sat; both of you on the blanket, IV pole beside him like a loyal dog, your legs curled beneath you.

“This is illegal,” Sam muttered.

“Technically, so is your attitude.”

He smirked.

You leaned back, arms propped behind you, staring upward. “What would you do if you could do literally anything?”

He scoffed. “Loaded question.”

“You said you’d answer next time.”

He was quiet for a long beat. Then, like cutting through the wind he finally answers. “..I’d run away. Somewhere no one could find me. Somewhere I could scream if I wanted. Maybe Montana.”

You glanced sideways. “You’d last three hours without Wi-Fi.”

Sam scoffed. “I’d be fine. I’m emotionally complex. I could meditate or some shit.”

You turned your head. “You? Meditate?”

He sat up straighter. “I could. I’m very zen.”

“You literally flipped off a nurse for waking you up during your nap.”

Sam shrugged. “Disturbing my peace.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re like a raccoon who developed anxiety and a nicotine addiction.”

He laughed, really laughed, and for a second, you forgot this was a hospital rooftop. Forgot about IV poles and labs and things you hadn’t told him yet.

Another beat of silence. Then he asked it—carefully, the words were balancing on the edge of something sharp.

“What would you do if you could disappear?”

You didn’t look at him.

You didn’t have to.

“I’d fall in love with someone.. go on a roadtrip to nowhere. Just us and the vast open road.”

He didn’t say anything for a while.

The air between you pressed down like a blanket soaked in unsaid things.

Then—

“Alright, Hallmark card. That was dramatic.”

You turned to him, offended. “Excuse me?”

“Just saying. You could’ve said something like, ‘open a bakery’ or ‘ride a motorcycle.’ But nah, you went full Nicholas Sparks.”

“You’re such a dick.”

“You started it.”

You reached over and poked his side, and he flinched. Your eyes widening at the sudden revelation. “God, are you ticklish?”

“No,” he said too fast.

“That sounded like a lie, Monroe.” You smirked.

“Touch me again and I’ll yeet your soul off this roof.”

You burst out laughing—real, loud, head-tilted-back laughing—and it was so infectious Sam couldn’t even pretend not to smile.

He watched you like you were the only bright thing on that rooftop. Maybe the only bright thing in his entire goddamn life.

You didn’t notice.

…And he wasn’t brave enough to say it.

<<< VISIT 3 | VISIT 5 >>>

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ROOM 304 | VISIT 5

>>>sick!sam x volunteer reader

>>>warning: cancer, hints of character death, angst (??)

SUMMARY:

Sam suddenly gets a fever while you’re together and it scares you in more ways than one.

<<< VISIT 4 | VISIT 6 >>>

The fever came fast.

One minute Sam was teasing you about stealing his hoodie again—

the next, he was shivering so hard his teeth clacked, skin burning, face pale and flushed all at once.

You were halfway through a story—something stupid about a patient in the lobby mistaking you for a nurse—when you looked up and realized Sam hadn’t laughed nor said something sarcastic. He was staring at the wall. Breathing fast. Blinking slow.

“Sam?” You stood. Crossed the room. Touched his forehead.

Too hot.

“Sam—hey.” Your voice cracked.

He didn’t answer.

Didn’t even look at you.

You hit the call button.

Then the fear hit.

*

They rushed in. Nurses. A doctor. Someone said “infection.” Someone else said “low white count.” Words like dangerous and neutropenic and platelets. They pulled the curtain. They didn’t pull you. You stood just outside the fabric wall, arms around your middle, hearing Sam’s ragged breathing and trying not to crumble.

Please don’t let this be it.

*

The next 36 hours blurred.

He was out cold most of it. IV drips doubled. Machines beeped too fast. You didn’t leave. You curled into the chair beside his bed, hoodie pulled tight around you like armor. His hoodie.

You only left when they forced you to.

And the whole time you’re thinking; he doesn’t even know.

*

On the second night, he stirred.

Eyelids twitching. Brow furrowing. Hand jerking slightly under the blanket like he was reaching for something. You stood quickly, wrapped your fingers around his. “Hey,” you whispered. “It’s okay. You’re okay.” His fingers twitched. Then curled tighter around yours.

And just like that, he settled.

Your hand didn’t move the rest of the night.

*

In the morning, his eyes cracked open.

Bleary. Bloodshot. But there.

Sam looked around, disoriented, until his gaze landed on you, curled in the chair beside him, legs tucked up, cheek pressed to his mattress, still holding his hand. He blinked. Swallowed. “You’re here,” he rasped.

You smiled sleepily. “Of course I’m here.”

His throat worked. “You… stayed?”

“I didn’t want to miss you waking up. Would’ve ruined the dramatic reunion.”

He let out a breath that was almost a laugh. “You’re an idiot.”

You squeezed his hand. “Takes one to know one.”

Silence. A long, quiet beat filled with things haven’t said.

He stared at your hand in his.

Didn’t let go.

Didn’t want to.

<<< VISIT 4 | VISIT 6 >>>

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