Saving Viola

Viola's P.O.V.
I sat up, bleary eyed for the second time today. Looking to my left I saw Fletcher sitting beside me, the look in his eyes was one of relief but his face was set like stone.
"What's wrong?" I asked, confused by his face.
"Uhm, when I asked the receptionist where you were she said you were in the poisoning and substances abuse ward," he replied, looking at his fingers which were intertwined on his lap.
"Maybe there wasn't enough room in the normal wards?" I said, perhaps they hadn't told him... "Lots of people fall down stairs!"
"There was glass in the wound," he countered.
"...And out of windows," I continued.
"They found cocaine in your system..." He finished.
"Oh," They had told him,
"Well!?" He demanded.
"Well what Fletch?" I sighed.
"Well what do you have to say for yourself!?" He raised his voice, "drugs are dangerous! What were you thinking?! Why would you do that?!!"
I said nothing, I looked at my sheets, trying hard to stop the tears welling up in my eyes from falling.
"Drugs can kill!" His voice cracked at that last part and he ran out of the room.
The tears fell freely from my eyes and I pulled up the covers over my head, ignoring the twinge as the IV cord in my arm was pulled at. How could anyone possibly understand?

Fletcher's P.O.V.
I ran out of the room, and sank to the ground with my back against the wall.
There was mum, taking a pill.
"Don't tell daddy," she whispered.
There was mum drinking from a bottle that was almost empty.
"Don't tell daddy," she slurred.
Mum, retching and throwing up, mum leaving the house early in the morning wearing little clothing and then finally, mum lying lifeless in her hospital bed. Scars running up her arms, tubes in her body, refusing to talk. And every time the same words, "don't tell daddy."

A sob escaped Fletcher, then another and another. He was shaking, curled up on the floor in a hospital corridor.
How could anyone possibly understand?