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Immediately follows Courtesy Call

Aleksy didn't like texting, so much. The keyboard was unfamiliar to him, and he was slow at it, finding Cyrillic much more instinctive to type. Still, he had the phone, he had unlimited texts, and sometimes he could be persuaded to actually talk to people. Today, he was in the mood to talk, so he kept the phone close at hand while he doodled in his sketchbook. The vibration of the phone across the acrylic coffee table was loud, abrupt, but quickly silenced. A text!--from Colin, who was supposed to be at work, not like Aleksy kept track of that for any reason or anything--a kind of scary text, can you come over I'm ********>. Somehow, from context, Aleksy doubted it was the enjoyable kind of ******** he texted back, but he didn't want to wait for a response. He didn't want anyone to think he was reliable or anything. Ties to people would just. No. He didn't want that. But he also kind of did, and either way, he didn't want Colin to... die. He hauled himself up and down the stairs, hissing curses to himself. He was getting soft. Having emotions. ******** this.

He found Colin's door open, and Colin on the floor, evidently out ******** cold. A fistful of ice dropped into Aleksy's gut, something in his hindbrain telling him <******** panic, s**t is wrong. With a deep breath, he knelt at Colin's side and texted Nick: Colin's, that was it. Hopefully the landlord was in.

Aleksy dusted off all the old first-aid skills he'd acquired in St. Petersburg, pressing his fingertips to the hollow of Colin's throat. Pulse was too fast, his skin was too hot. Heat stroke wasn't something he really had to deal with in Russia, though he could identify it. "I don't know what to do," he said under his breath, the Russian syllables ensuring the comment's privacy. He'd never admit that where anyone could hear. "And you are an idiot," he said to Colin's unconscious face. The hand that Aleksy had held only a few Sundays ago had bruised knuckles, and he frowned. He hardly had time to think about that, though. Something had to be done.

Nick poked his head in and blanched. "What happened," he asked, but he was already doing... something. Some weird doctor thing. Aleksy stood and cleared out space, every line of his body tense. He was useless, he told himself, so ******** goddamn useless holy Mother...

"I don't know," he said. Nick shook his head, shifting his attention to something else, one of Colin's hands in his. Aleksy didn't need to see Nick's face to know the man was frowning.

Nick rose. "I suppose you won't let me call an ambulance," he said, crossing hte room to wash his hands in the sink. "He's got heat stroke and he's not nearly the weight he should be--" Aleksy glared through his bangs. "--No, I suppose you're right. I'll be back. Do you know where he has the towels? Cold ones. Back of the neck, forehead, armpits, groin."

Glad for something to do, Aleksy set about his task. He wasn't stupid; he knew cooling someone down was important, and he didn't doubt Nick had given him something important to do. By the time the doctor returned, he'd replaced the towels twice. Nick nodded his approval, and together they hauled Colin to his bed.

It took an hour to stabilize Colin to a state that Nick found suitable. It was weird for Aleksy to see Colin so still and pale now. "Call me if anything changes," said Nick, who looked tired as hell. "

"I'm busy," said Aleksy. Staying would. There'd be explanations due. He didn't want to make them. Colin would be alright with Nick watching him.

"Aleksy Abramovich," said Nick, in such a perfectly fatherly tone that Aleksy winced. "I am exhausted. I had a night shift with a three-car pileup, two dead children, and now I want a nap. Stay with Colin."

With ill grace, Aleksy subsided, sinking onto the edge of Colin's bed. It set his skin crawling, being responsible for another person. He was a good person. He hadn't done anything to deserve this. "You are so troublesome," he grumbled, perching uneasily in his spot and eyeing the place where the IV line vanished into the back of Colin's hand. At least Nick was intelligently prepared--it could be the mythical Kaatje's influence, or Nick spent a lot of time preparing for disasters--and they didn't have to take Colin to the hospital. Not until they knew if something awful was going to happen if he showed up with this specific injury set.

He hunted through the bag Nick left at the side of the bed, pulling out a roll of gauze. At least he could take care of Colin's hands to keep busy.

Sorry if I scared you? Sorry if I scared you? Colin had a real gift for understatement, that's what was happening here. Aleksy gave him a look that pretty clearly said shut up and let me work, all narrowed dark eyes and a stubborn set to his mouth. His hands were brusque as he went about wrapping Colin's bruised knuckles, but he gentled when he set Colin's hand down and started on the one with the IV. "Nicholas Eglamore couldn't find a vein in your arms," he said, in a voice that he wanted to be more disaffected than it was. He sounded upset, and hurt, and that was... that was ******** stupid. Colin was a grown man, and Aleksy didn't want to be anyone's minder, and... "An hour at least," he said. "I don't know. Do you expect me to count?" His stupid, treacherous biology was to blame for the crack in his voice, he decided. Hormones, or something.

He got up and got Colin ice chips, and if he sniffled then that's as may be. When he came back from smashing ice cubes into small enough pieces to not, like, choke Colin, he was calm and steady. Ish. Okay, at least he looked calm and steady. He tried not to think of Quartz as he tapped Colin's lower lip, a piece of ice dripping water down his fingers to Colin's bare chest. "When did you last eat," he said, imperiously. "How did this happen. Tell me slowly. Take breaks to breathe."

"What is insane is your neglect of yourself," he said. Not ungently, he reached over and gathered Colin's unencumbered hand in his. With that arm extended, Aleksy could clearly trace the lines of his bones. He wanted to be calm about this, to be able to just quirk an eyebrow, but there was unhappy accusation in the set of his mouth and the look he flicked Colin's way. Of all the things he'd expected upon entering the apartment, that hadn't been one of them. Colin's body was important; it was the tool with which he created his art. For Colin to abuse that body, to starve himself and continue to work like nothing had changed, would be like Aleksy willingly slamming his hands in a door, or blinding himself.

Still, he was ginger, even shy as he fed Colin a few more ice chips. He kept his hands to himself as he could. "Nicholas Eglamore says you're confined to quarters," he said, for something to say that wasn't, you know, grossly emotional. "And if you think any Negaverse agent has pure intentions towards you or any intent but to do you and all of our kind harm, I am going to decide you are mentally compromised and only sing you Russian children's songs for the next week."

He didn't actually know any Russian children's songs. Just stories. Whatever--he doubted Colin would call him on it. "There's not much to remember," he said. "You were overheated and exhausted and you're malnourished. Why would you--" Aleksy had to stop talking. He had to look away, the cup of ice chips held in both hands between his knees. A deep breath, then another, and he said in a much flatter affect: "You need to eat. And sleep. Your muscles require it. You require it."

"You have nothing to do today," said Aleksy. "There was a crime committed at the theatre and the police were called. Costuming will have to wait." He didn't actually know that. He hadn't even known there was a crime until Colin told him just now. But there was no way Gail hadn't called the police, if a Captain had attacked September. (Aleksy liked September, but he also wasn't a dancer.)

He had sympathy for Colin's predicament, even if he tried his hardest to avoid it himself. He understood shitty breakups, after all--distance between people you loved and yourself could be hard!--and he understood on some deep, hindbrain level what it was to punish yourself with your body. Hadn't he done the same, once? Though the details were gone, the diaries outlined broad strokes of events. He knew what he had done, and how he'd snapped out of it. There would be no Milena for Colin, no friend to tell him he was in the wrong, unless Aleksy did it himself.

Maybe that wasn't true, but he couldn't turn his back. "It can't go on like that," he said. "You can't continue as you are. You'll die." Which wasn't allowed, and the urgency in Aleksy's voice was barely contained. This was upsetting, and he was upset, and he had every right to be. "I thought you were dead when I found you," he said, and he tried to control it. "I understand that it hurts and that you are hurting, but--this cannot happen again. It will not."

Colin could try to convince Aleksy that it would be better to let him up. Key word there being try: Aleksy was not going to accept that bullshit without putting up a hell of a fight. "We'll watch a movie and talk," he said. That wasn't a topic open for negotiation, so he didn't pretend. He only wanted to make sure Colin was safe and not aggravating anything. "It seems as good a day as any to have deep, introspective, and heartfelt conversation."

Pulling out the you're upsetting me card had been a bit of a mistake, he thought. Why was this day full of emotions and bad judgment calls he'd just wanted to sit on his floor and draw and binge on Netflix cooking shows. "No one worthwhile," he sniffed, easing carefully off the bed. His phone sat unattended on the kitchen counter, and he retrieved it before returning, though he remained standing as he texted Nick about current events. "I will check on September," he said, painstakingly picking out the correct letters on the touchscreen keyboard. "And we will get food into you once Nicholas Eglamore says so. For now we are going to talk."

It wasn't a threat, it was just a statement.

"Unless you would like to go to sleep," he said, magnanimously, arching an eyebrow at Colin over his phone. "That is also an acceptable option."

Aleksy smiled, just a little, and pocketed his phone. At least Colin could make jokes still. Even if there was a big problem, Aleksy's new awareness of it wasn't going to... it wasn't going to hurt their friendship. It didn't look like it would, anyway. Who knew about the long term? "Food and a movie then."

Colin's hair probably was long enough to braid, he thought as he returned with Colin's laptop from all of six feet away. Without asking, he climbed up onto the bed and settled a hand span away from Colin. It was a personal space issue, not so much a disgust issue. Touching Colin's hands while he was unconscious was one thing, but Aleksy didn't. He didn't like it when people touched him. So.

The laptop wasn't password protected, to Aleksy's mixed feelings. He opened the web browser, since he wasn't sure where to find Colin's video library (if he had one) and would rather go to his own Netflix account. As he tabbed through the options, he happened to glance at Colin's bookmarks bar. He stilled, flicked a glance at Colin, looked back to the screen.

Aleksy wasn't embarrassed about his camsite. There was nothing to be embarrassed about; his body was capable of doing things and letting others see gave him the flexible hours he wanted and the reliable pay he needed. He did attract unwanted attention sometimes, in the form of antagonistic emails and worse, but that was just par for the course and he was well compensated. No, the problem here was that he had tried so ******** hard to make sure Colin didn't know that anything about Aleksy deviated from standard cisgender maleness. Aleksy was stealth in every sense of the word and he couldn't stop the chill running down his spine at the idea that Colin might know.

He glanced at Colin again. "You. Um." How did one even ask did you know I'm a camwhore why is my site bookmarked!! without sounding completely psychopathic or telling the other person what you were doing? "Like that camsite, then?"

Aleksy cleared his throat. "That's me," he said. His tone dared Colin to say something. Anything. The thought that Colin might know that Aleksy was trans--that he was born the way he was--kept him sitting stiffly alongside Colin even as he entered his netflix username and password. "Did you... Have you known that?" Damnit, if Colin had told him about this before, he would've been able to save himself so much time and discomfort.

Aleksy sighed, relieved. "Really." It wasn't his main source of income, anymore, but it was still something he did--it was fun. Just. Not when his friend was beat the hell up. "It will make next week's video a little awkward," he admitted, "But I don't mind it. If you wanted to keep watching."

He shrugged, one-shouldered. "Do you want to watch Chopped or Dance Moms?"