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The question Shiloh poised to Ian wasn’t one he’d thought to ask himself, like how he felt for Ian; he knew he felt for himself. Not in a selfish way but in the sort of way that even though he’d wanted to lock himself in his room and never come out, to curl up and just cease to exist after that moment, he’d gone on living anyway, he’d shoved the tasteless food into his mouth, he’d seen to his duties, he’d practiced at the training fields.

It was the same reason why he kept getting into trouble, why he kept pushing things when he could just fade into the crowd, because he loved himself enough to stick up for his ideals, to protect those things that he so dearly believed in.

One of those things was Ian.

Ian, who could barely manage to sit up but persisted in fighting with his words, doing the exact opposite of Shiloh and diving right into the heart of the matter, the heart of them. ‘Possessed by a demon’ barely registered among the rest of it, the words far away as Ian’s fingertips brushed against the side of his face, as he whispered. He was pleading for a second chance, Ian who didn’t know himself, who didn’t love himself but who knew loved Shiloh.

Shiloh didn’t know anymore, but he had known once. Because words didn’t measure how they felt, words couldn’t possibly sum up everything that had been them that had been their relationship. It hadn’t mattered that Ian couldn’t say it before, because his actions spoke loud enough, because in all of his life Shiloh had never felt as loved as he did when he was with Ian, the way he’d looked at him, the way he had loved him. He’d known and the words hadn’t mattered. But now, even though he had the words, those sweet three words, he didn’t know, he had no way of knowing if they were true. He had no way of knowing of how this might turn out, if it would end up good or bad.

But that had never stopped him from trying before.

Ian’s hand had fallen from his face and Shiloh found it again, found the warmth peeking from beneath the bandages and he held it, nodding as he met Ian’s eyes, his own hesitant, afraid but hopeful, daring to believe that those three words might be true, daring to believe in Ian again. For Shiloh, it wasn’t some haphazard copout; it wasn’t something he agreed to simply to get Ian to stop talking about it. Logic, movies, everything dictated that he hold out, that he was walking into trouble, that if he’d been so easily thrown away once, what was to stop it from happening again?

But Shiloh loved Ian, more than anything he loved him. And if Ian couldn’t love himself, Shiloh could love him for him, until he figured it out, until he understood and saw just exactly what he saw every time he looked at him, what he saw even now, beyond the bruises and bandages.

“Ian,” he said, exhaling softly as he gathered his thoughts. “You don’t need to prove anything. You never did. All you had to do was be yourself, that's all you ever had to do. I love you, for you, and if this is you, all of this,” he paused, gesturing with his free hand at the expanse of Ian and his bed, smiling a little, “I guess it’s my lot, right? You hurt me, Ian, I didn’t think anything could hurt so bad but I’m okay, you know, you’re the one who almost… You’re the one here, in the infirmary, and you don’t need to make it up to me, you need to make it up to yourself. Take care of yourself, do better for you. I can take care of me, I’m a big boy, you know?”

He closed his eyes for a second, another sigh, though his expression hadn’t changed when he looked at Ian again, still honest, still sweet, still in love.

“We can try again, okay? I… I want to try again. There’s always a second chance.”

Ian was the only person that made Shiloh rethink everything, the only one who managed to turn his world upside down just when he had almost gotten it right side up again, his lips pressed against Shiloh’s wrist and he could see him straining with the effort, with the pain of holding Shiloh’s arm up, of holding himself up but even through that he was smiling, a look on his face that Shiloh had known all too well, that made his heart crumble to see it again.

He leaned forward, stopping just short of crushing Ian again, because he wanted nothing more than to hold him, to wrap himself around him, to make up for each and every day he hadn’t seen him. But he could hardly chastise Ian for getting up if he himself made the problem worse and so when he leaned in it was to gently push him back, dipping forward to press his forehead against Ian’s while he just breathed, just caught his breathe for a moment and breathed in Ian, and then he was moving, kissing the tip of Ian’s nose, his forehead, what was left of his soft hair.

“I missed you too,” he whispered softly. “I missed you so much.”

He leaned back, and winced again at the sight of Ian’s neck. He’d press him for more about it later, all he could think now was how lucky he was, how lucky they both were, that Ian had made it out alive, that he’d survived. Breaking up was one thing, but to think he could have lost Ian forever, that he would have never been able to see his face again, to think that he might have become another statistic.

Shiloh didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want to accept the pain that Ian had almost had to, with him months before. Ian was here, he was alive, and that was what mattered, nothing else. He was alive and going to get better and they were going to try again.

“The nurses are gonna kill me,” he said, a hint of laugher accompanying his smile as his fingers trailed, feather light, across Ian’s cheek. “But I should probably call one of them, eh? We made a bit of a mess of you.”

“It happened,” he said quietly, his face still near Ian’s. “Stupid or not, you can’t take it back, we can’t change it… But we can move forward, right? We can try, once you’re better. That’s all you have to do right now, that’s all you have to worry about.” Ian’s nose was soft against his skin, his breath warm though shaky. Shiloh couldn’t promise everything, couldn’t promise this time that it would be okay. He didn’t know. But he could promise he would try, that they could try together.

“As long as you don’t regret me,” he continued, smiling at him, his fingers still against his cheek. But his smile faltered along with Ian’s breathing and the silly line, cheesy as ever, made him worry far more than it made him laugh and though he took one brief second to press his palm against Ian’s face, in a delicate attempt to push him away for being so awful, his words were rushed as he glanced around the little area. Ian’s neck was red and angry-looking, and growing worse and Shiloh paled considerably, wanting to help him, wanting to make it all better but not stupid enough to ignore when he was in over his head.

“I’m going to get one, hold on, okay? You’re not getting off that easy, just hold on.”

Hurriedly he pushed past the curtain and found the nearest nurse, his expression alone enough to alert her before he even managed to open his mouth. He opened his mouth to speak, pointing in the direction of Ian’s space, but she was already brushing past him, her face a mix of irritation and immediate concern. He couldn’t blame her.

He followed her, doing his best to stay out of the way, feeling entirely useless and somehow responsible. But he didn’t want to leave, he didn’t want to get kicked out until he knew Ian was actually okay, stupid Ian, so determined to do everything his way, his stupid way that made Shiloh laugh and love him more, that made him hurt but Shiloh feel better, feel better that he would fight so hard, that he wouldn’t give up, not on them. He stood there, wringing his hands and unable to do anything, but at least he could be there, at least he could do that, let Ian know he wasn’t alone.