In the last few hours, Colton had smoked half a packet of cigarettes and drunk seven cups of coffee, but when he was told he could see Tod it had only taken ten minutes for him to fall asleep. He wouldn't leave Tod's side until he woke up, he knew that much, and honestly he was still upset with Tod but it didn't matter at all, because it had been his own stupid fault and he cared more about Tod than his pride or even himself. The chair he sat on was hard and unforgiving, and when he woke up he could feel stiffness and aching in his joints and shoulders, and his new tattoos were sore, but he yawned and stretched, then shuffled his chair closer to Tod's bedside. He hadn't seemed to have moved at all, and Colton felt his stomach drop. The smell of the hospital room wasn't helping; it reminded him of last time he was in hospital. Taking Tod's hand, he sighed tiredly. "Hey," he said quietly. "If you wake up, I'll leave you alone and you don't have to talk to me ever again, okay? But you have to be okay. Please." Speaking like this felt foolish, like speaking to a mirror. But he wanted Tod to hear. He let go of his hand, and scratched the back of his head, then spent a moment smoothing the plasters on his hands.