Fics like bouquet

Soap has other visitors. Ghost only ever sees traces of them. The rearranged furniture; the side table pushed this way, the chairs pushed that way. The blinds open, the window cracked. Empty coffee cups in the trash, sometimes alongside a crumpled bag or container from the cafeteria. Then there's the flowers. The flowers bother him. White lilies—funeral flowers. He walked into Soap's room and it was like he was at a wake. Soap, laying there in bed, pale, bruised, silent, tubes sticking out of him, and at the bedside a bouquet of white lilies. He'd thrown them away and immediately gone to the gift shop to find something better. Something cheerful, and loud, like Johnny himself. Tulips or sunflowers or—daffodils or something. Anything but lilies. He got a bunch of daffodils, placed them on the bedside, marveling at how the reflection of color made Soap's complexion seem warmer, healthier, and then, the next time he visited, the goddamned lilies were back. --- Ghost is trying his best to hold himself together and look after Soap while he's in the hospital, and ends up meeting Soap's family.

Fics like bouquet

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