"Coma?"
"Yes, coma", the old man in the Labcoat nodded, holding a stethoscope in his hands. He grimaced, "I am sorry, Mrs Clark. We tried everything we could".
Delia stepped back, blinking her eyes repeatedly. She slowly lowrered her gaze to the hospital bed they stood next to.
Damien's still body laid there with different tubes ran down his throat and numerous monitors beeping next to him.
His face and limbs were still decorated with bandages and gauzes from his other injuries stitches.
The doctor continued, "Lucky, he was brought in at the nick of time..."
Delia stepped forward, ignoring the doctor as she slowly went on her knees. Her eyes didn't move away from her husband unconscious self for even a split second.
She gingerly raised her hands to touch his. Her eyes watered. She clutched unto his cold hands.
The doctor then turned, "Um... Mrs Clark?"
