Mirage

Chapter Ten

   "Tsk~ wake up." Whisper's voice was low and rough. It trembled slightly. Ryder heard him let out a low groan of utter anguish. The darkness was soothing and he felt like he was floating. Whisper's voice was the only thing keeping him tethered. 

Slowly, he started to regain his other senses. His sense of touch came next. He could feel the soft mattress underneath him. His throat itched and his mouth was horribly dry. He was aware of an oxygen mask pressed to his face. 

Ryder's eyes snapped open as he realized he was in a hospital. A surge of panic washed over him and he tried to sit up, the white blanket shifting as he moved. He reached up to pull the oxygen mask off and his left arm came into view. An I.V. trailed after his arm like a shackle. 

"Eh? Lay back down." Whisper's sharp, cold voice stopped Ryder in his tracks. His eyes went a little wider and he turned to look at the other man, slowly putting the mask back on his face.

Whisper was wearing his jacket and a white shirt with cargo pants. His clothes were rumpled. His silver hair was a mess, ruffled and all over the place. His cheeks were streaked with tears. His yellow eyes regarded Ryder with an icy steel to them that made him mildly uneasy like he was about to tie him down to the hospital bed if it meant he'd stay put. 

Whisper let out the low growl again and wiped the tears from his cheeks. They were turning a faint shade of pink. His lips formed a thin scowl as he glared at Ryder, who hadn't lain back down. 

"What?" Whisper snapped defensively, his cheeks going a slightly brighter shade of pink. He was blushing up to his ears now. Ryder slowly laid back down, deciding he wasn't going to start a fight right now. Not with the terrifying mood the other man was in. Ryder hadn't see Whisper cry before and the glint in those yellow eyes spelled violence with a capital V. 

"You've been out for three days." Whisper hissed, sounding upset. Ryder was staring up at the ceiling, in the middle of trying to recall why exactly he was in the hospital and around the same time that Whisper spoke it all came crashing back. 

Ryder didn't say a word, his stomach twisting with nausea. Three days was a very long time to be out. Given how advanced the medical field was in Feinnral, a stab wound could heal in a day with the proper treatment. He must have been all but dead when he'd been found. The image of the toddler's corpse was seared into his mind like he'd been branded. 

Whisper's fingers were gentle, his touch as light as a feather as they traced Ryder's knuckles on his right hand. Ryder sucked in a deep breath, startled by the contact. Whisper hid his smirk behind his free hand, relieved he'd successfully snaped Ryder out of the dark mood he'd been in.

"You were buried under the rubble for 24 hours before I found you." Whisper's voice was low and soft, barely audible as his lips moved. His fingers tightened around Ryder's hand until he was gripping it protectively. Ryder glanced over, a retort on his tongue. The harsh words died in his throat as he saw the tears shimmering in Whisper's eyes. 

Ryder suddenly felt guilty and looked away from Whisper to gaze at the screen flickering in his room on the far wall. The news report was showing the building collapsing. The reporters voice was barely audible. 

".....We now have confirmed that the building was in fact bombed. The Public Relations Division in the Military sector is saying a terrorist organization is claiming responsibility..." Ryder's face twisted into a scowl. His eyebrows knitted together and his lips turned down. His neon pink eyes went hard and brilliant, glowing like a miniature explosion. 

"Eh. I'll hunt the bastards down and kill them myself." Whisper's voice broke Ryder's train of thought. It was a low, cold, cruel hiss that sent a shiver down Ryder's spine. He sucked in a deep breath to calm his pulse, which had jumped slightly. He glanced at Whisper as the man continued.

"I lost three men!" He spat angrily, his yellow eyes glowing with murderous rage. Whisper's hands were clenched so tightly the knuckles had gone white. 

"And I almost lost you." His next words caught Ryder by surprise. Ryder frowned slightly as he gazed at Whisper. What did the other man mean by that? They'd slept together exactly once and they'd both been anything but sober. Sure, Whisper was oddly clingy but he was also a literal psychopath with textbook narcissism. Ryder doubted love was something the other man even felt. Everything was just a means to Whisper, to manipulate people and get what he wanted.   

Ryder was once again broken from his thoughts by Whisper's featherlight touch, this time his fingertips wandered up Ryder's arm. Goosebumps broke out on his skin as the hairs on his body stood on end. Ryder felt like his stomach had dropped to the floor and a shiver raced through him. 

He turned his gaze back to the screen in time to see film of someone jumping from a thousand stories up. Three falling bodies, suspended in air. Two wore Crow jackets. The third......The camera panned in closer and he recognized Lindsey clinging to his back, held in place by the silcords. 

".....Death-defying Death-walkers rushed to help evacuate children from the upper floors of the building......." 

Ryder's scowl deepened and he turned to gaze at Whisper's hand. He'd rather stare at the older man sitting next to his hospital bed than that fucking screen. Every time he glanced up he was just reminded of the boy's body. Maybe if he'd moved a little faster the child would still be alive. 

"It wasn't your fault." Whisper's voice was gentle, the cold hint gone. Ryder sucked in a shallow breath, startled by Whisper's words. He glanced up at the man, almost ready to ask how he'd known the line of thought. Whisper's eyes were analyzing. 

What he lacked in brute strength he made up for in perception. Whisper was extremally intelligent and even charismatic. He held sway over his Murder of Crows through fear and respect, although it was usually fear that kept people loyal. Ryder considered himself an intelligent person but Whisper could outfox him and run circles around him for days. 

"I pulled you from the rubble. I saw the boy." Whisper murmured quietly, his jaw clenching slightly. Ryder's gaze trailed from the man's eyes down to the hand that was caressing his skin. Whisper's tattoo's shifted slightly as his muscles flexed and rippled with each small movement. His arm was one big sleeve. Ryder got lost in the patterns inked there, circles and other shapes creating a beautiful tapestry of color. 

He'd do anything to forget the guilt that was clawing apart his insides.