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 Posted: Tue Dec 10, 2013 9:43 pm
Shiloh’s thoughts upon awakening were conversely this. 1. Oh my god, I’m alive. 2. Ow, everything hurts. 3. But I’m alive! 4. I need to find- Where’s- A groan as he tried to move, and found himself bound by straps to his bed. Not that moving seemed like a good idea anyway, as pain shot fire through his nerves, ricocheting until he had to close his eyes and just take a moment to breath. He was nearly completely covered in bandages, understandably so after having his front lacerated. They covered his arms, and beneath his gown they crisscrossed over his chest and torso. Even his face hadn’t managed to escape them, places where the axed had nicked him carefully patched over. His phone laid untouched, and ignored on the stand beside the bed. [ Shiloh, Shiloh, Shiloh, SHILOH! Yes, breath first. Then you can worry about everything else. ] Haruko, he thought, a soft smile ghosting over his lips. You’re back.[ Of course I am, silly, did you really think I wouldn’t come back for you? ] Her tone was gentle, teasing and he’d missed it, missed the girlish cadence of it in his mind, the bubbling source of cheerfulness and dogged determination that he couldn't wish away, that he wouldn’t dream of wishing away. [ I’m sorry I let you get hurt Shiloh, I was mad at you when we most needed to be a team. How are you feeling? I'll help the best I can. ] Awful, but alive, thank-you, he responded to her wordlessly. She was right about them needing to have been a team, but he was partially to blame, after all he’d gotten them into the mess in the first place. But they could argue semantics and battle tactics later, now was the time for rest and relaxing and most of all rejoicing. Each breath he took ached but it was an amazing feeling, amazing to have feeling again. He wiggled his fingers, and touched them to the bars of his hospital bed, unable to contain the little sound of delight that escape him as they met the cold metal and held, solid against it. “We ******** did it, Haruko, god dammit we’re alive!” His voice rang out, a little hoarse from disuse but it didn’t matter, the smile that stretched his face a mile wide.
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Posted: Tue Dec 10, 2013 10:30 pm
The pod was empty.
Or rather, the pods, seeing as how there were two of them (though Ian pretended one of them did not exist). In the space of approximately two hours, while Ian had gone to take a nap, the room in which both Shiloh and Rep had occupied had miraculously, inexplicably, been emptied of all its previous inhabitants.
Needless to say, Ian had not taken it well.
He had only just barely discovered Shiloh's continued existence on the island, though it was immensely frustrating to be able to know and yet not be able to talk or touch or hear or even see him. Ian had not been entirely certain just how long he would have been able to handle that, how long it would be until it drove him crazy.
The pods being empty meant one of two things: either both had died, or both had lived. It took Ian only moments to discover which one of them it was.
He had dropped everything (almost literally) and ran when he had heard, Ian taking the stairs two at at time and racing down the halls of the building until he had found the infirmary, his chest heaving with the effort, and a stitch in his side. And then, stupidly, he felt nervous and slightly nauseated and bemused all at once; he'd gone from one extreme emotion to the other, like a terrible roller coaster meant to make you sick rather than give you enjoyment. Not only that, but there was still that part of Ian that did not quite believe that Shiloh was truly alive, even with the evidence to the contrary.
How was he supposed to face him if he was alive?
After a good ten minutes of just standing outside, Ian closed his eyes briefly, exhaled, and stepped inside of the infirmary.
He was directed towards a bed at the far end, divided from the rest of the occupants with a set of thin white curtains. A glimpse in one direction revealed vibrant orange-red hair, but Ian was not focused on that, but on the other bed, the one he couldn't quite see yet.
He wasn't ready for this. He couldn't do this.
He had to do this. Reaching out a hand, Ian's fingers closed around the curtain, and he drew them back slowly, carefully, with great precision and a generous amount of hesitation as though what he would see would be something else, something not-Shiloh.
But a second later, he drew in a sharp intake of breath that seemed to shiver down into his very core, Ian's hand dropping away from the curtain to stare at the figure in the bed. His chest felt tight, too tight.
"...Shiloh?"
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Posted: Wed Dec 11, 2013 2:19 pm
The infirmary was filled with the usual hustle and bustle of a medical ward, and the accompanying sounds. People talking, visitors and attendants, people coughing or groaning, the squeak of hospital beds, the clatter of trays. So the footsteps that approached weren’t particularly different to Shiloh’s ear, as he took a moment to himself to just be glad he was alive. It was a small luxury, but one not often afforded on Deus, so he basked in the moment, his breathing slow. The curtain drawing back, however, was new, and he tilted his head, too quickly and he winced, looking to see who it was, his face absolutely lighting up when he caught sight of the messy brown bangs, of those familiar green eyes. Today, it seemed, fate was smiling at him. It wasn’t the Death lead or Mark come to explain those papers on his desk, it was for once the person he most wanted to see, the reason he’d tried to get out of bed only moments ago. He smiled; Ian always saved him the trouble. “Hi,” he answered softly, that one word speaking volumes.
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Posted: Wed Dec 11, 2013 2:58 pm
He looked, for lack of better words, relatively terrible, but that was mostly due to the bandages crisscrossing over Shiloh's torso and arms. It made him nervous, looking at all those bandages, but Ian forced a smile onto his tired face; he had the feeling he did not look all that great either, dark circles beneath his eyes.
"Heyyy..." Ian said softly, and stepped towards the bed, his hands shoved into his pockets. He stood next to Shiloh and looked down at him, at his very alive face and the enormous, familiar, wonderful smile on his face, and the reality of things slammed into him full force for the very first time.
Shiloh was alive.
His heart, his stupid, idiotic, ridiculous heart gave a little stutter, but Ian pushed it away and drifted closer to the bed, almost anxiously, though the expression on his face was still strangely calm.
"How, um..." A pause. "...how are you feeling?"
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Posted: Wed Dec 11, 2013 4:32 pm
The enormity of the situation weighed on him as heavily as his the bandages across his chest, but as long as he could keep that smile up, he could pretend everything was okay, could pretend that he wasn’t ready to just break down and sob, could pretend like it broke his heart that he couldn’t wrap his arms around Ian and squeeze him, and tell him just how much he’d missed him. He could tell him, but steering the conversation in that direction almost guaranteed the widening cracks in his smile would lose their hold, and it’d all come flooding out. “I’ve felt better,” he joked lightly instead, laughing a little, stopping when it hurt. He looked up at Ian who looked incredibly tired, his face drawn and dark circles beneath his eyes. Shiloh’s smile faltered for a moment, he didn’t have to imagine what Ian had gone through. He’d been there on the other side, helplessly watching it unfold. Shiloh leaned back against the pillows with a soft sigh, resting his head so he could still see Ian. He was a sorry sight, his hair messy and tangled, the whole of him pale and fragile looking, a far cry from his usual self. “What about you?” Then he couldn’t help himself, “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
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Posted: Wed Dec 11, 2013 5:49 pm
He wanted to come closer, share the same space as his Shiloh Parish, his boyfriend, but he also wanted to run away.
He wanted to reach out and touch him hold him, bury his face in his neck and press a hundred kisses to his lips and his face and his neck and everywhere else that he could find, but he also wanted to keep his distance, stay far as far away as he could.
He wanted to say a thousand things, like how he had missed him so much it had hurt and that scared him, and how he had thought about him every day for the past week nonstop, but he also wanted to say nothing at all and instead let the silence fill him from the inside out, until he was drowning in it and it lay against him to consume him.
Slowly, hesitantly, Ian stepped forward, until he was right next to Shiloh's bed. A small, dry laugh escaped his throat. "You're terrible," he said, but there was a soft, barely noticeable break in the last word that was hidden by Ian clearing his throat.
For a long moment, he just looked at Shiloh, his emotions rampaging this way and that until they were so convoluted and mixed together it was difficult to tell which was which anymore. And he could not quite help himself, Ian drawing the curtains closed around the bed to allow for more privacy so that he could do at least one thing, one small thing. He lifted a hand and stretched it towards Shiloh, his fingers brushing over his forehead to push a few strands of hair away from his face. The fingers trailed down his cheek, a light gesture.
"I'm glad you're alive," he said quietly.
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Posted: Wed Dec 11, 2013 8:05 pm
“I know,” he said with a grin, looking pleased as he watched Ian move closer. They stayed like that for a long pause, the two of them just watching each other. It should have been awkward, but instead there was a certain sort of tenseness, measured feelings of held back emotions and a hesitance to relax and breath and admit that this was all real. That was what Deus did, what nightmares did. It tore at Hunters over and over until there was nothing left to give up, until hope seemed like an ideal that belonged in history books, something that had once existed but didn’t anymore. For all Shiloh knew, he could close his eyes again and end up alone. Or worse. Maybe this was his heaven. Maybe he hadn’t really made it. There was so much to think about it that it hurt and he was glad when Ian finally moved, just slightly to close the curtains, forcing him out of his thoughts, forcing him to focus on what was in front of him. [ It’s real. He’s real. ] Haruko’s voice was soft, and reassuring, and then it faded, stepping back from his consciousness as Ian’s fingers found his face, brushing some wayward strands of hair away with the utmost care. The fingers didn’t leave, however, and their warmth traced over his cheek. He smiled, and gritting his teeth, he lifted the arm closest to Ian, straining as he reached for his hand. “Me too,” he answered, his voice just as low, as if whispering might hide the shakiness of it. “I missed you.”
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Posted: Wed Dec 11, 2013 8:36 pm
If Shiloh were paying attention and if Ian wasn't able to hold back at least a portion of the amount of emotions currently raging through him, he would notice that Ian's fingers were shaking slightly as they traced lines over Shiloh's cheek, almost as though he was trying to make sure that it was still the same face he remembered.
"Hey," said Ian, as Shiloh moved, "take it easy, sweetheart."
The nickname slipped easily out, but Ian's smile was still slightly forced, his face pained as he drew the chair closer to the bed so that he could sit down beside it. He slipped his hand from Shiloh's face and instead, hesitating only a moment, took his hand, lacing their fingers together.
"I missed you too," Ian said quietly. "It was pretty quiet here without your sorry a** around."
It was a lame attempt at a joke, Ian's smile wavering.
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Posted: Wed Dec 11, 2013 9:02 pm
Too exhausted to even remotely care at the slip, Shiloh was more than glad when Ian slipped his hand in his and he curled his fingers against Ian’s, giving his hand the best squeeze he could muster. It hard been hard on both of them, all of it, but Shiloh tried to remind himself that it was okay now, that what he had said was true, that everything would really be okay. It was utter bullshit, but it beat the alternative. He exhaled, catching his breath and composing himself, before looking up at Ian with a grin. “Yeah, I bet,” he chuckled softly, appreciating Ian’s attempt, clinging to the lightness of the joke like it was air. The warmth of Ian’s hand in his was paradise, it reassured him like nothing else and he squeezed it again, the strength of his resolve threatening to crumble and he could barely hold it as he wrinkled his brow, biting his lip to try and hold it all back. He cast his eyes downward, not daring to look at Ian, not wanting to cry. He had to be strong. Everything had to be okay. “Y-You’re… You’re staying awhile?” His voice was hopeful, even if it hitched in his throat.
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Posted: Wed Dec 11, 2013 9:20 pm
Even if he couldn't see the way that Shiloh's eyes had become oddly bright, he could hear the tremor that had slid its way through his voice without either of them intending it to. And Ian was, not for the first time, grateful for the flimsy curtain that provided them at least some semblance of privacy, even if it wasn't much.
Ian leaned closer to Shiloh's bed, close enough that he could draw Shiloh's hand towards him. He kissed the back of his hand first and then the palm of his hand, and then each one of his fingers, and his breath was shakey, as though he was trying very hard to hold everything in.
Carefully he turned over Shiloh's hand and though the angle was a little awkward, Ian pressed a kiss to the inside of his wrist; a place that had somehow become special to them, something just for the two of them.
He straightened, stood up, and moved closer, and bent so that his forehead was against Shiloh's.
"I'm not going anywhere," he breathed out and then kissed him, gentle but firm, and his fingers shook as they squeezed Shiloh's hand, touched his face, his eyes still shut as he drew back, wanting their connection to stay, wanting to keep touching him.
"I missed you," he said, and this time his voice really did shake, more than he intended, as though some part of the emotions he was trying to keep at bay had started to shake. "Don't ever do that to me again."
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Posted: Thu Dec 12, 2013 4:19 pm
Even if they kept their voices low, it didn’t matter, it was Deus, gossip traveled threw its walls like they were paper thin, and in this case, they actually were, only flimsy curtains dividing them from the next patient. It was more than was usually afforded anyone of his rank in the infirmary, however, so Shiloh ought to have been grateful. The truth of the matter was that Shiloh, at the moment, didn’t particularly care who saw them because the familiar anxiety hadn’t entered his head, he was too caught up in the gentle touch of Ian’s lips against his skin as he pressed kisses all over his hand, the shakiness of his movements undeniable no matter how Ian tried to steady it. It wouldn’t have mattered if anyone had seen them, at the point that Ian found his wrist, because none of them mattered, not a single one of them could hold a candle to Ian, who’d stayed by his side, who’d held onto hope even when there was none to find. Shiloh usually never ran out of steam for his optimism, but dying had been a problem he hadn’t faced before and as strong as he wanted to believe he was, he’d paled in the face of it, he’d been entirely tempted to just give up hope and wait for the inevitable day that they chucked his body into the trash. But that wasn’t him, to give up hope like that, and it wasn’t Ian. Each day that Ian had come to read to him strengthened his resolve, it gave him the hope he needed. He would live again, so he could make Ian happy, so he could protect the ones he cared about. That was why he had come to Deus in the first place, and no matter how hard the island tried, no matter how much it took away, he couldn’t lose sight of what mattered most. So Ian whispered the words that Shiloh wanted to hear, and he broke against his lips, sobs shaking his worn out body. Ian moved to pull back but Shiloh refused, grabbing onto him even as his arms screamed in protest, and he crushed Ian against him, holding him there as he let go of everything, all of his anxieties, his fears and his sadness, piled into a weepy mess of a man clinging to Ian’s shoulder. He’d swear he never did things like that later.
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Posted: Thu Dec 12, 2013 6:01 pm
He'd spent each and every day since Shiloh had died just taking it one step at a time, one moment at a time. Ian had promised himself upon arriving at the island that he was going to keep himself distanced on purpose, that he was going to keep that wall up around himself because he had already experienced first hand what happened when he didn't.
He had not wanted, nor had he expected, Shiloh; the key word being had.
But now he was here, and Ian had never wanted anyone as much as he wanted Shiloh, a fact that scared him to death, and a fact he buried so deep within the confines of himself that he almost forgot it was there. It was a selfish feeling, deep and greedy and almost desperate, but Ian was not about to let that show now, nor ever, if he could help it.
He felt Shiloh begin to shake, and then the dam had burst, and Ian curled himself as close as possible without crushing him, his face against Shiloh's neck, hands on either side of his neck. A wetness on Shiloh's cheeks made him draw slightly back, his thumbs brushing away the tears, and Ian, tilted his head at just the right angle to kiss him, messy and sharp edged and burning, because physical things were what he understood, his method of coping. It was a way to speak without words, to tell Shiloh how much he had hated him being dead.
He broke away a few moments later, breathing slightly labored, and then he kissed Shiloh's nose, leaning their foreheads together. His fingers were gently tangled in the damp strands of his hair.
"You're alive," Ian murmured. "Now stay ******** alive."
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Posted: Thu Dec 12, 2013 6:29 pm
If he hadn’t been shaking before, he was now, because it wasn’t just the misery of dying that came pouring out but a lifetime of pushing things down, of not admitting how absolutely terrified he had really been. Ian was swept up in it, because he was Ian, because Shiloh had grown attached, because he was something Shiloh had been terrified to admit to. Ian brushed away his tears, and kissed him and it was sloppy, Shiloh a mess and beyond coping but he ******** needed it, needed to feel the solidity of Ian against him, as he hiccuped and sobbed his way through it. It was selfish of him, and he thought about it, thought about how awful it must have been for Ian and here he was, asking the man to comfort him but as much as he wanted to stop, he couldn’t, even as Ian drew away, just enough, his lips affection against the bridge of his nose. It was a long pause before the panic left his eyes, and before he could steady himself enough to breathe, let alone speak. When he finally did, his voice was congested and choppy, as the last of his sobs shuddered through him, and he looked up at Ian ruefully. “I’m gross, I’m sorry,” he said, smiling just a little as he move his arm to wipe at his nose. He winced, but the ache was good, it tempered his hysteria, it helped bring him back down and calm him. He sniffled a little, and tried to smile again. “That’s the plan, Chicken.”
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Posted: Thu Dec 12, 2013 6:43 pm
They were both messes, in different ways. Where Shiloh's mess was more visible, his eyes glimmering bright and tears streaking down his cheeks, Ian's was concealed as best he could behind tired eyes and an exhausted mind. It was not his time to be felt sorry for, and while he did not pity Shiloh, it was there that his attention need to be, not on himself.
One of Ian's hands gently stroked across Shiloh's forehead, smoothing back some of his hair in gentle, tender gestures. He leaned back far enough to see him clearly, half leaning over him as he sat beside him on the bed.
"You have got to come up with a better nickname," said Ian dryly, with a slight rose of his eyes, but there was affection in his voice. He reached for Shiloh's hand with the one that was currently not otherwise occupied and threaded their fingers together, squeezing gently.
"I'm sorry," he said softly, after a long moment. "I may have, um...given away a bit of our secret. I know I promised you that I would keep this to ourselves, but everything just sort of...fell apart once you...died."
He closed his eyes. "I lost my temper."
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Posted: Thu Dec 12, 2013 7:12 pm
“You try… Coming up with one,” he said, half laughing, half hiccupping. He was incredibly grateful for Ian, as he soothingly smoothed back his hair, as he squeezed his hand, as he sat there and just reassured Shiloh, without asking for anything, or needing him to be something that at this moment, he just couldn’t be. They stayed there like that, silent until Ian spoke again and Shiloh was glad for the reprieve, taking the moment to just breath, to relish in the warmth of Ian’s hand in his, the smell of him, everything that he had missed so much, that he’d wondered if he would ever see again. It was amazing, how wonderful everything seemed, even though the entire room was warm now, and his body was warm, he still clung to the warmth of Ian’s hand as if he needed it to survive. And when Ian did speak, his voice soft as he admitted what had happened, Shiloh lifted his head slowly, and looked at him for a moment. Then with a shake of a his head he was chuckling, then laughing, not because he found it particularly funny but because for once, he didn’t care. He didn’t care. He didn’t care because if dying taught him anything, it was that sweating the insignificant s**t was stupid, and that if he was going to waste his life worrying what other people thought, especially about something that made him so happy, then he was wasting the second chance he’d been given. He wasn’t angry with Ian, or upset, on the contrary it felt freeing to realize these things, to have finally found the courage to try and embrace who he was. “I’m not surprised, you were going through a lot and I can’t… Can’t imagine dealing with those people,” he answered softly, lifting his hand to touch his fingers to Ian’s cheek. “But it’s okay, really." He paused, and looked up at Ian again. "Let’s not keep it a secret anymore. I... I don't want to make the same mistake twice.”
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