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 Posted: Sun Dec 04, 2016 2:14 pm
Mid-September 2016
Michael hated hospitals. He hated how they smelled, he hated how they sounded, he hated how white they were, he hated the atmosphere. He hated the expressions of patients and staff. Even when he brought his brothers or others who were injured to the hospital, he only lingered as long as he had to. He never stayed. He never went to visit. When he forced himself to go for medical attention that he couldn’t handle himself, he only was there long enough to get patched up and then checked himself out, even if he was advised to stay longer.
But this time it was different. This time he did something he promised not to do unless it was absolutely necessary, and he knew shortly after regaining consciousness near the abandoned train station that this was absolutely necessary.
Michael didn’t know what he would have done had Peter and Olga not shown up to help him. He was in bad shape himself; out of breath and weak and in pain, his shoulder mangled and a cut down his chest, but it was nothing compared to Caspian. Without their help, he was certain that Caspian would have died in that field. He and Michael would have both died, since Caspian would have probably been killed by the General and Lieutenant, unable to get his starseed back.
His shirt was completely soaked with Caspian’s blood. He’d desperately held onto Caspian’s wrist in the car to put continual pressure on the long gash down the inside of his arm. The first aid kit that he had in his car quickly ran out of supplies. Peter sat in the back seat with him, helping to patch up whatever he could, if only to keep the blood from flowing so freely, while Michael refused to let Caspian out of his arms. Caspian, who was quickly growing paler by the minute.
By the time they made it to the hospital, Caspian was already going into hypovolemic shock from the severe amount of blood loss and needed an immediate transfusion if he had any hope to survive.
Michael, in shock himself, was probably the worst patient of the night; unable to hold still while his arm was worked on, and refusing any kind of medicine to dull the pain, because he needed to be by Caspian’s side the moment he was released from the intensive care unit.
And that took hours. Hours of Michael pacing nervously around the waiting room until he was told to sit down because he was making everyone else there nervous, especially since he was still covered in blood. Hours of desperately praying to whatever higher power there was that Caspian would be okay.
Peter was kind enough to go to the hospital gift shop and buy him new clothes to wear, which consisted of a pair of grey sweatpants and a blue shirt, the color of Caspian’s eyes, which only had him even more on edge, coming dangerously close to having a full blown panic attack a couple times. Olga was still around somewhere. And Peter hadn’t left, but all he could think about was Caspian.
Caspian, and what would happen if Caspian died. If he was left, again. Only this time he didn’t think he would be able to ever recover.
Eventually, Caspian’s condition stabled enough to no longer need immediate attention. Michael had no concept of the time or how long they’d waited, or how long he would wait for Caspian to wake up, but he refused to leave his side once he was allowed to see him.
And it was beside Caspian’s bed that Michael remained. At present, he’d pulled a chair up against the side, his hand loosely around Caspian’s wrist as he dozed, resting his head on his other arm over Caspian’s bed, dark circles under his eyes from being unable to fall asleep. —————— The last thing he remembered was Michael.
And pain. There was a lot of that, most notably in his arm and hand, but his leg as well had been agonizing. There wasn’t really any pain now, not that Caspian could feel much at all except a dull, fuzzy throbbing that seemed to overtake his entire body. Every inch of him felt heavy, as though an enormous pressure was being laid atop him, keeping his body from moving properly.
Caspian came back to himself in stages, and even then, he was not quite sure it was himself he was coming back to. He was aware, at some point, of voices above him. Some were familiar, some were not, but all of them were garbled. He couldn’t understand what they were saying, and a few seconds later it was back to blackness and nothingness for long stretches of time.
The next time he was aware of anything felt as though it could have been seconds later, but was, in all actuality, several hours. He could hear a muffled beeping noise and feel someone holding his hand - thankfully the one that was not in agonizing pain, and he gave a moan, his lashes fluttering as he shifted. The beeping noise increased, pounding like little needles against his skull.
“It’s all right, honey,” said a voice above him, somewhere, like a disembodied figure that he couldn’t distinguish. It was a kind voice, Caspian thought, in his muddled, painful state; something warm and soothing. “I’ll take the pain away, sweetie, just hang in there, you’ll be all right now, go back to sleep.”
So he did, gratefully, because being awake was too much.
A long time passed before he was coherent enough to wake, for real this time.
His eyes, feeling as though they weighed two hundred pounds each alone, slowly opened. For a few seconds his vision was blurry, unfocused, and Caspian blinked slowly, several times, trying to clear it. Eventually his surroundings began to take focus, his hazy mind sluggishly attempting to make sense of things.
He was in a bed, in a room, but not his room or any room that would have been familiar to him. The walls were painted a pastel teal color and there were faded pictures of sailboats above diagrams of the body hanging on them. A closed cabinet stood in a corner next to a long, lower counter that had a sink and some papers. Next to that was a curtain that hung partially closed in an arc around a closed door, clearly leading out of the room. The door next to that, however, was ajar, revealing a bathroom just beyond.
It was a hospital. He was in a hospital.
Caspian turned his head, which felt like lead, and felt something scratching at his throat - a bandage. He also felt, for the first time realizing it, that there was someone beside him. A hand was resting on his wrist - a wrist that was not, unlike the other, covered in swathes of bandages and an IV line poking out of it. Mahogany hair was spilled onto the blankets, but Caspian could have known who it was in a heartbeat.
And all at once, everything came back to him.
Michael, being stabbed in the shoulder by Harmotome. Harmotome with her hand in his chest, yanking out his starseed, and the horrible, nauseating collapse of his lifeless body onto the ground. Him trying to push it back in, and Michael -
Michael alive.
Caspian’s breath rattled in his throat as the emotions clogged it, his eyes pricking at the edges until there was a wetness on his cheeks, unable to stop them.
“M - “ His voice felt like he hadn’t used it in a hundred years, Caspian shifting his hand, trying to take hold of his. “M - Michael - “—————— There were a few seconds that Michael thought he was dreaming. He hadn’t slept at all from the time Caspian entered into the hospital until now. Even then, he was only dozing, the stress on his body catching up to him.
He thought he could hear Caspian’s voice softly calling his name. But it was that part that was the dream. The real voice, he realized a few moments later, was much rougher, which would make sense with how Caspian’s throat had been abused, bruised and nearly cut open.
There was a slight panic that washed over Michael as his eyes suddenly opened and head lifted from where it rested on his arm, eyes wide as he practically jumped up from his chair. Which, he realized, wasn’t helping at all. He was just so relieved to see Caspian awake that he couldn’t help it.
“Cas,” he breathed, doing his best to remain as calm as he possibly could. “Cas, it’s okay. You’ll be okay,” he quickly promised, reaching out with his free hand to place against Caspian’s face, his thumb gently wiping away the tears that spilled over his beautifully, lightly colored cheeks. Much better than the paleness he’d been before, although he still had a while to go to recover.
He felt his eyes stinging, but decided to focus more on keeping his hand steady as he brushed back Caspian’s hair, the tips of his fingers brushing at the tears that fell from his eyes. His heart ached, overwhelmed with relief and love, but still scared that something could happen. —————— For once, Caspian couldn’t bring himself to care that he was crying; rough, little hiccuping sobs escaping because he couldn’t control them. The sheer, overwhelming relief of Michael’s presence, his breathing, his hand as it tenderly stroked back his hair and brushed at his tears - all of it made Caspian cry harder, his vision blurring again even as he blinked rapidly to keep Michael in his sight.
“I thought,” he managed to get out, half choking on the words as they tripped out of him. “I thought you were - dead - I was so - ******** - scared, when she - p-pulled your starseed out, I t-thought my heart was gonna s-stop - Michael - “
His thoughts were tangled together, muddling his words. Caspian tried to remember how to breathe properly, swallowing hard against the lump in his throat, and it hurt to swallow for reasons he couldn’t quite remember for the time being.
He looked up at Michael, blinking desperately to get the tears out of his eyes so that he could see Michael clearly, drink him in, take in every inch of his incredible face and know that he was still there beside him and not just a figment of his imagination or the product of whatever drugs he was on to keep the pain at bay.
“You’re alive,” Caspian whispered, giving the smallest shake of his head, and he fumbled for Michael’s hand, needing to touch him. ”Michael.”—————— The crying broke Michael’s heart, if only because he didn’t know how to make the tears stop, fearing that something was really wrong that he had no control over.
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he said softly as Caspian sobbed out why he was so upset, the reason behind the tears not necessarily making Michael feel any better, but at least it wasn’t because of whatever pain Caspian must be feeling. Michael inched closer as Caspian sobbed, his hand along Caspian’s face sinking into his hair, before leaning across the bed to gently kiss him, his other hand taking hold of Caspian’s and squeezing gently in reassurance.
“I’m so sorry, Cas…” he mumbled softly against Caspian’s lips. He was doing his best to hold his own emotions back, taking in a deep breath and releasing it, but it came out shaky. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m right here,” he promised, his hand still fondly stroking Caspian’s hair.
He pulled back so he could shift closer to him, wishing there was more room on the bed to comfortably join his boyfriend there, but not wanting to put Caspian’s wellness at risk just for his own desire to be beside him.
A couple tears broke free before he realized how close they were to spilling over, and he pulled the hand from Caspian’s hair away to quickly scrub at his eyes. He’d never felt so overjoyed in his life, to see Caspian alive and in front of him.
“You’re so stupid, Caspian,” he groaned, although it probably sounded more like a quiet sob, hiding his face with his forearm now. “You were supposed to have left. You could have died. I thought… I thought you were going to… there was so… so much blood. You can’t… you can’t leave me…” —————— Michael’s voice was surrounding him, warming his very heart and soul. Caspian latched onto the feel of it, let it soothe through his veins and settle into his aching chest as though it was meant to be there. Michael’s hand was in his hair and then he was kissing him and Caspian was sure his breath was terrible, but he didn’t care, hiccuping a sob into it as he kissed back desperately, needing to feel him.
He felt a few drops on his face and knew it wasn’t from himself. Michael’s hand was covering his eyes, but Caspian knew him too well, and he reached for Michael, his good hand trying to find something to hold onto. He couldn’t reach very far, but his fingers closed around the hem of Michael’s shirt and held on as best he could, Caspian swallowing back his emotions.
“I told you,” he said thickly, his throat feeling dry. “I told you I wasn’t - I wasn’t going to leave you. Not then, not now, not ever.”
It was difficult to speak. Caspian felt as though his heart was two sizes too big for his chest, and every inch of him knew why that was. It was not quite like a revelation; it felt like something he had known already, as though it was something that was ingrained within him, a feeling and a security that had always been there but was just now taking physical, emotional form.
“You once asked me,” Caspian said tremulously, his eyes stinging again. “Why I chose to stay with you. Why I refuse to leave you.”
His grip on Michael’s shirt tightened a little, his hand shaking.
“It’s because I - “ His voice caught in his throat, Caspian blinking rapidly, and this time it was him, not Michael, who was on the edge of a cliff, balanced precariously at the edge. This time it was Caspian, terrified to take that leap, even if he knew the truth of his own feelings at last, so scared that he was making the wrong decision.
But it didn’t feel wrong. Not at all.
“It’s because I love you,” Caspian whispered, and his voice broke on the words, almost a laugh, more a sob than anything else; an incredulous sound, as though he was sure that it was something not going to be reciprocated. “I know it’s only - it’s only been a few months, but I - I love you.”
He gave another hiccuping sob, tears sliding down his face as Caspian looked up at him.
“I’m in love with you,” he said softly, so softly it was barely audible. “Head over heels, madly, unquestionably, irrevocably in love with you, and that’s why I can’t ever l-leave you. Because I - “
It was hard to breathe. “I w-want you for the rest of my life.”
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Posted: Sun Dec 04, 2016 2:17 pm
He should have known that Caspian would see right through him. He always did. There was nothing he seemed to be able to do that got past him. That was probably one of the reasons Michael was so, incredibly dependent on him. Caspian not only knew him more than practically anyone else, but he was extremely patient with him and knew his faults and knew his strengths, and even if anything about Michael bothered him, Caspian was willing to compromise and work through things. He trusted Michael, and Michael trusted him in return. It was unlike anything he’d ever felt before.
The emotion was clear in Caspian’s voice, and almost a desperation in the way he held onto the hem of Michael’s shirt. Slowly, Michael lowered his hand from where he hid his face, staring down at Caspian on the bed, bandaged and hooked up to machines to make sure he was recovering. All because he refused to walk away and let Michael go.
Because it was more than just a friendship or mentorship. It was more than that. It always had been. And Michael was sure that it always would be.
He could feel his breath catch in his chest, his heart beating so quickly he was sure it would break.
But it wouldn’t break, because Caspian was there to hold together the pieces with unbelievable kindness and care. Often, Michael thought he didn’t deserve Caspian. It was too good to be true, and yet Caspian wanted him, and, as it turned out, was in love with him.
“I don’t care,” Michael said almost immediately, his voice thick, his eyes still wet as he shook his head. It felt as though the pieces that had broken and shattered were slowly repairing themselves, but not on their own, but with Caspian’s help.
He knew he didn’t have a lot of time, and probably shouldn’t even be doing it in the first place, but leaning over the edge of Caspian’s hospital bed was just not enough for him right then.
Carefully, he reached down to pull Caspian’s hand away from his shirt, and he took a step back so he could figure out how to lower the railing without hitting the button for the nurse to come in to check. Eventually he gave up, not wanting to waste the moment where his heart felt incredibly full, almost as if this were just a dream, and he needed to know that Caspian was real and in front of him.
Making sure he didn’t pull at any of the IVs or cords that were attached to Caspian to monitor him, Michael lifted himself up, placing one knee on the bed, and then hoisting himself up to place his other knee on the bed, kneeling over Caspian, reaching out to him as tears welled in his eyes again, unable to believe that this beautiful, wonderful person wanted him.
Michael very gingerly lowered himself so he could slide his arms around Caspian’s shoulders, his face pressed against his cheek, still wet from stupid tears that he had no control over. He didn’t care how ridiculous he probably looked. All he cared about was being close to Caspian, and he was very aware that he would have probably never done something like this had it not been Caspian who had eased his way into his heart and helped break down the walls that were preventing him from being himself, to keep away the ghosts that haunted him and kept him locked away in his own past.
“I don’t care,” he said again, softer this time. “I don’t care if we’ve only known each other for a few months. It feels like a lifetime,” he said, his voice strained with emotion but still soft against Caspian’s ear. He pulled back just enough to be able to look into Caspian’s eyes, his own shining. “I love you, too.”—————— For a heart stopping moment, Caspian thought the I don’t care was the answer to what he had said, and he felt the color drain from his face.
But then, before he could react, before he could even think to breathe, Michael was climbing onto the bed, one knee braced on either side of him, and Caspian stared up at him with wide, startled eyes, his breath catching in his throat as he tried to figure out what was happening, if he had made some sort of mistake after all.
Except Michael’s arms were around him, and nothing else mattered.
He could feel Michael’s damp cheek against his own, the slightly rough scratch of his scruff against his jaw; so achingly familiar in a way that made Caspian’s stomach do flipflops. He raised his uninjured hand and found Michael’s side, fingers curling in the fabric of his shirt, holding on to some part of him because he needed the confirmation that he was real and alive and still breathing.
Michael’s lips were against his ear, warm and gentle, and then he was looking down at Caspian, and nothing else in the entire world existed except for Michael.
I love you, too.
He heard the words, but for a moment, didn’t move. Caspian was frozen in place, staring up at Michael, and it was impossible. It was impossible that Michael loved him, it was - it had to be, it couldn’t possibly be true, because that was something so incredibly, heart wrenchingly incredible, that in order for it to be true, Caspian had to be dreaming, or possibly hallucinating -
But it was real. Michael was real and he was here and he loved him.
Caspian’s breath stuttered out of him, and he was half choking on his sobs, almost hyperventilating as he tried to get air into his lungs. He tried to reach up his injured arm, which gave a twinge of pain, and had to settle instead for sliding his free hand up, curling it around the back of Michael’s neck and holding on.
“I love you,” he managed to get out, because it was all he could think of right now, the words pulled from somewhere deep inside Caspian’s chest and heart. “I love you. Don’t - don’t ever leave me, I can’t - I can’t do this without you, Michael, and I d-don’t want to, and I love you.”
He tried to shift and make room for Michael on the bed beside him, ignoring the crowded space and all of his cords and wires and monitors.
“Michael, I love you,” he said, the words tumbling out of him.—————— His heart swelled, although he felt bad that Caspian was crying. Caspian so rarely cried that of course he was going to be upset and concerned when his emotions got away from him. But he was also medicated and probably still in a lot of pain, and the crying probably didn’t help.
“I love you,” he said back, softly as Caspian cried, his own tears falling without restraint, although he tried not to let them fall too much over Caspian’s face. He could feel Caspian trying to shift over, knew it must be painful for Caspian to move much, so Michael did his best to move out of the way for him, slowly easing himself down beside him on the hospital bed.
“I’m not going anywhere. I’m sorry for scaring you,” he said quietly, lifting his own hand to rub at his eyes again, feeling ridiculous for crying so much. He didn’t cry. He shouldn’t be crying, and yet he also shouldn’t love someone so much. Someone he’d only met a short time ago. Someone who was ten years his junior. Someone he didn’t think he deserved but wanted so badly that it hurt.
“I’m not going anywhere, Cas. I love you,” he said softly, trying to shush him, laying on his side so he could carefully place his arm over Caspian’s chest, feeling his heart beat strong, despite his own emotions still swirling. “I thought you would die before I could tell you. I need you, Cas,” he said, taking in a shaky breath, thinking he was holding his composure rather well for how he felt.
“You should rest,” he said suddenly, moving his hand up to gently touch the bandage around Caspian’s neck. “You were dying in my arms… I don’t know what I would have done if…” But he shook his head, unable to finish the sentence. —————— For once, Caspian was grateful that he was smaller in size than Michael. He himself did not take up much room on the bed, which meant that, in spite of it being made for only one person, the two of them could at least fit somewhat comfortably with Michael on his side beside Caspian on his back, even if it was a little cramped.
I love you.
He thought he would never get used to those words, warm and genuine and wonderful in his ears, sending a feeling of such sweet tenderness through Caspian that he was afraid his heart would burst with it. He lifted his good hand and bent it so that he could rest his hand on Michael’s arm where it lay across his chest, Caspian tucking his head in closer to Michael’s.
He knew how terrifying it must have been. How agonizing it must have felt for Michael to think that he was dying, just as Caspian had felt his heart shattering the second Michael’s starseed had been pulled. He didn’t think he could ever get that feeling out of his mind, or that image out of his head. Caspian gave a small shake of his head, which dizzied him, causing the numbers on the heart monitor to rise slightly, but not beep quite yet.
“I’m too stubborn to die,” he whispered, finding Michael’s hand and lacing his fingers together as best he could. “I’m sorry, Michael, I didn’t - she had your starseed, I couldn’t just walk away. That - that general, he came at me, and I was trying to save you, and I c-couldn’t - “
Caspian’s voice trembled, his throat throbbing with the effort of speaking.
“If - if Peter and - and Sedna hadn’t been there, I - I’m sorry, Michael, I’m sorry I couldn’t s-save you - “
He squeezed his eyes shut against the memory of it, trying to stop the tears from falling again.—————— Michael really wished that was true; Caspian being too stubborn to die. That would be the best application of his stubbornness to date. If only he could avoid death through sheer stubbornness. A thought that had Michael giving him an almost exasperated look, but it was still so filled with love and affection that the exasperation took the back seat.
“Don’t… please don’t apologize,” he said, his voice still a bit rough from emotion, his hand linking with Caspian’s as he held his hand over his chest. “I’m sorry… I should have been more careful. I couldn’t let him kill you. I would… I would do anything,” he said, trying to stop himself from getting emotional again, but the sight of Caspian getting upset again made him upset. He was so worried about Caspian that he didn’t even have time to really process what happened to himself. That would just have to wait for some other time. Or never.
He still didn’t know why Peter or Olga had been there, but that was something to ask them at another time. He had been a little preoccupied with making sure Caspian would even wake up to ask.
“I’m sorry. I couldn’t think of any other way to try and save you. I assumed they would have killed us both but…” he said, his voice sounding guilty now, mixed with grief and fear. “I would rather die with you than be alone again… I don’t… don’t want anyone else, Cas.” How could he? After everything, he couldn’t imagine being with anyone but Caspian.
Unable to take the sight of the tears on Caspian’s face, Michael pushed himself up just a bit to lean over him, gently kissing his cheeks and lips, kissing the tears away from his face.
“I love you, Caspian Meriadoc Lyons. Everything about you… just… stay with me… please…” —————— He wished he could turn and press his face into Michael’s chest, breathe him in and just stay like that, curled together. The idea that he had almost lost him was petrifying; he’d felt, for the briefest moment, what it would feel like if Michael died, and Caspian wasn’t sure if he could ever go through that again. Not in this lifetime, or any other lifetime where he’d be lucky enough to meet Michael.
But he’d failed to save Michael. He hadn’t been the one to defeat Harmotome and the general, and had Sedna and Peter not arrived…
He couldn’t think of it, his heart constricting, Caspian clutching tighter to Michael’s hand. “I don’t ever want to lose you again,” he whispered, and Michael was leaning over him, kissing his face, his lips warm and soft and wonderful. Caspian kissed him almost desperately back, his fingers curling along the side of Michael’s face, sliding over his unshaven jaw.
He could have cried at the words Michael was saying, and he probably was already, Caspian’s face damp. He reached for Michael, kissed whatever part of him he could reach - his face, his jaw, his neck, his collarbone - before the heart monitor began to beep, indicating he was getting overstimulated.
Caspian lay back down, but he wasn’t about to let go of Michael’s hand, twining their fingers together tightly.
“Never,” he said hoarsely. “I’m never leaving you.”
He tried to look at Michael and see his face, his vision blurred.
“You s-stay with me too,” Caspian whispered. “Please. I never want to let you go again.”
And I’ve never loved anyone as much as I love you.
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Posted: Sun Dec 04, 2016 2:19 pm
He was sure people would look at them like they were absolutely crazy. He was thirty and Caspian was twenty and they’d only known each other for a handful of months, and for them to say they were already in love? Was that even possible?
Michael knew it was, because that was how he felt. They’d already been through more than he ever thought was possible, had gently broken down each other’s walls and revealed pieces of sad, lonely pasts, had slowly helped each other start to heal, made each other feel wanted and cared for, had watched each other’s life slip away…
Sure, some people might think they were crazy, or maybe they were too young to really understand, but Michael truly believed that they understood very well what it was like to find someone so incredibly special and then almost lose them.
Michael had realized that he loved Caspian before watching his life quickly fade in his arms, but it was because of that realization that he’d been so comfortable with giving up his own life if that meant saving Caspian.
“I’m right here, Cas… I won’t leave,” he promised as Caspian settled back down, Michael shifting so he could lie next to Caspian on the too small bed, staring at his beautifully tear stained face, full of color and life. He never wanted to see Caspian as he had, dying and cold and pale…
“You did save me, you know,” he said softly, some of what Caspian had been saying through his sobs before bothering him. Even if he hadn't been able to get his starseed back without the help of Peter and Sedna, the very reason Michael was there in the first place was because Caspian saved him already.
He watched Caspian, his heart aching as tears fell from blue eyes, catching on dark lashes before spilling over his cheek. Michael shifted, a little awkwardly because of how little room they had, but twisted his arm enough to be able to brush the back of his fingers against Caspian's face, gently wiping the tears away. His own eyes were still wet, but he thought he was doing a good job of restraining himself.
“You remember how impossible I was to deal with when we first met. How impossible I still am, sometimes,” he said softly, his throat sore from the emotion that kept welling up inside him. “You saved me, Cas… I feel happy again because of you. You’ve always been patient with me in a way no one else ever was before. I thought I was prepared to be alone for the rest of my life before I met you. But now I can't imagine living without you, Cas… I need you…”—————— He knew, at least in part, that his being emotional right now had a great deal to do with watching Michael collapse lifelessly to the ground; that his vulnerability and his overwhelming need to have Michael near was because he’d been so close to losing him - had lost him, at least for a few minutes. Caspian couldn’t stop himself from clinging, his desperation clearly evident in the way that he tried to hold onto whatever part of Michael he could find, fingers searching, Caspian inwardly cursing his bad hand.
He raised his eyes, trying to meet Michael’s, though his vision was still a little blurry, Caspian blinking slowly. Michael’s hand as achingly tender on his face, the backs of his fingers brushing aside the tears, and Caspian tried to tilt his head into the touch, his heartbeat painful in his chest.
The smile on his face was tentative and tremulous but it was there, Caspian swallowing hard. He knew how stubborn he’d been when it came to Michael; how long he’d refused to leave him alone, because already he’d started falling for him. Already he’d had difficulty imagining a life which Michael was not a part of, a life that seemed impossible the more he’d gotten to know him.
What was it he’d said before? They’d been trying to find each other all this time and had just kept missing, and now…
Now the’d found each other, and Caspian had no intention of letting go.
“I love you,” Caspian murmured, his voice thick, and he swallowed hard, which hurt, his injured throat protesting any movement. “I’ll never leave you alone.”
He bit his lip, his eyes reddened around the corners.
“You’re stuck with me.”—————— Michael watched, his heart tight in his chest as Caspian smiled tentatively up at him, Michael’s fingers still brushing gently at his face. He moved his other hand shifting it so he could place his palm against the inside of Caspian’s uninjured wrist, pulling the back of Caspian’s hand to his chest, holding it there at least for now.
“I’m okay with that,” he said just as softly, a small smile making its way to his face, and he pushed himself up a little more so he could lean close and press another kiss against Caspian’s face. “I want to be stuck with you,” he whispered against his cheek, and then pulled away to look him over, wanting to make sure everything still seemed okay.
It had been a very, very close call, but he wasn’t about to tell Caspian just how close he’d been to actually dying. Although, he supposed Caspian must know how Michael felt, after the whole issue with his starseed. But that was not even a concern for Michael, seeing as all his focus was on Caspian.
“I love you, too, Cas,” he said as he pulled back, lifting his hand to rub at his own eyes, wiping the lingering tears away with a small, incredulous laugh. “I think I’ve loved you for a while, but… that’s crazy… right? It feels like I’ve known you forever…” But he shook his head, not wanting Caspian to think too much about it. Not when he needed to get some rest.
“You should try to sleep,” he tried again to get Caspian to rest. “Are you too crowded? I won’t leave, but I can move off the bed. I promise I won’t leave you, Cas,” he said, meaning both there in that room, and in his life. —————— In spite of the fact that Caspian felt as though a train had run him over, there was a warmth running through him, his heart lightening second by second. It was not perfect; he knew that; he still couldn’t get the image of Michael collapsing out of his head. But Michael’s continued presence, his gentle, soothing touches and his tender words all helped to ease the ache in Caspian’s chest.
His eyes fluttered at the kiss to his cheek, Caspian’s fingers curling around Michael’s where it was held against his chest. He could feel Michael’s heart beating faintly, and it was a relief; a wonderful, beautiful feeling.
A low laugh came from Caspian’s throat, a little rough and a little hoarse, his eyes still pricking at the corners, Caspian’s lashes damp. “I think I’ve loved you ever since you took me out on your boat,” he murmured, his voice tired. “When you guessed my middle name and you didn’t laugh at me and you told me it was okay to be me.”
He remembered lying there, beneath the blanket of stars, Michael’s arm around him to keep him safe. How he had never wanted to leave, and how it had felt...maybe not perfect, but right.
Exactly right, the way it was supposed to be.
The thought of Michael leaving made Caspian suck in a sharp breath, an overwhelming, sudden panic clogging his throat, his eyes widening.
“No,” he said, trying to calm himself, and it was ridiculous; he was an adult he could handle things -
-but not this. Not so soon, Caspian shifting on the bed, trying to relax, taking a deep breath that shook in his throat, and ludicrously, his eyes were stinging again. He blinked rapidly, trying to dispel them, hoping it was just the sheer amounts of medication that was making him so unbelievably emotional.
“D - “ His voice came out unsteady, Caspian holding tight to Michael’s hand, his fingers shaking. “D - don’t leave. Just. Stay here. I - I know it’s cramped, I’m sorry, but I - “
He needed him, but the words stuck in his throat, Caspian swallowing hard.—————— The laugh was something of a surprise, and Michael stared at Caspian, his eyes wide when he admitted to thinking he loved him since… well, it seemed so long ago now, but it really hadn’t been that long. Only months. Months ago and his life had completely changed and he didn’t even realize just how deeply he would be affected by this young man lying injured, and so recently near death, next to him on the hospital bed.
He stared, wondering if maybe that was what he’d seen in Caspian’s eyes. Something that he couldn’t recognize back then, something that was hidden beneath the sadness and loneliness he saw. Something fragile and shy, but so very beautiful.
Something that should be treasured and cared for… and loved… because Caspian deserved that.
“Shh,” he quietly hushed Caspian as he became increasingly distressed over the thought of Michael getting up and out of the bed. “It’s okay, I won’t. I won’t,” he promised, his hand tightening around Caspian’s, pressing his hand firmly against his chest, as if to show that he wasn’t about to get up and leave him.
“I’m right here,” he repeated, leaning over again to gently press his lips to Caspian’s to try and quiet him, although it was a gentle brush, one that was meant to soothe more than anything else. “I’ll stay right here, Cas. I won’t leave. Just try to sleep, okay?”
He could imagine how Caspian must be feeling. And he knew Caspian hated hospitals, but it was necessary. If they didn’t bring Caspian there, he would have… he would have died.
Michael thought he was still doing a great job of restraining himself, his own shoulder aching a bit as he tried to get Caspian to calm down. But nothing he’d gone through was anything like the pain Caspian must have been feeling. Michael never wanted him to be hurt again.
“Close your eyes, Cas… I’m right here…” —————— He was dimly aware that he was probably being unreasonable; that forcing Michael to stay beside him in this cramped bed was unfair to him, especially seeing as how Michael had been through a lot as well. But something about the thought of not having near was almost panic-attack inducing, Caspian’s sluggish thoughts, muddled by stress and medicine, only able to comprehend the negativities.
Michael’s voice was quiet and soothing, the hand that held his secure and unrelenting in its grasp. Caspian’s eyes fluttered shut at the soft kiss, hating that he couldn’t lift his other hand to touch Michael’s face or hair, instead leaning up into it almost desperately, though it remained a soft, sweet brush of their lips together.
It was what he needed. And Michael had known that, as he had always known what Caspian needed.
Every part of him felt heavy, from his head to his toes, arms and legs especially. He’d stayed awake for longer than he’d expected, but now the stress and the medication and his injuries were making him exhausted and sleepier than he’d thought, his lashes fluttering as Caspian tried to stay awake so he could keep looking at Michael.
“Don’t…” His voice was already fading, Caspian’s eyes falling shut in spite of all of his attempts to the contrary. “Don’t...go anywhere.”
A quiet, gentle plea like the one he didn’t remember saying all those months ago, when Michael had stitched him up after the very same general had attacked him.
The last thought in Caspian’s head just before he fell asleep was that of Michael’s soft, warm voice and his gentle arms before there was nothing at all.
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