Healing Gabriel (BoyxBoy)

✣ Chapter Twenty-Four ✣

      "Here," he sighed, leaving his spot and picking up the water bottle from the floor, next to the fallen icepack. He handed it to me after he unscrewed the cap. I coughed and took the bottle, drinking small sips of the water since I couldn't stop coughing.

      Fuck. I hated this. It hurt and people were starting to notice. Yesterday, even Ms. Richardson commented about my throat to me in private. And Slater was threatening to tell someone soon since he started noticing the physical changes.

      "Just cough it out," Gabe urged quietly, knowing that I was still trying to suppress my coughs. Reluctantly I did as he told.

      Afterwards, he pat my back, blue eyes worried. Dammit, he wasn't supposed to worry about me, I was supposed to worry about him. He was the broken and abused one; my little throat problem shouldn't at all be the center of attention here. We should be focused on fixing him, not me.

      I took another sip of water before handing the bottle back to him. He screwed the cap back on and set it aside on his desk. I removed myself from his bed, going over to his fish tank instead. I refused to talk about my health with anyone, including him. I decided I could distract him away from any conversations about myself if I brought up his beloved fish.

       Hmm, it'd been a couple months since he first got the tank. I wonder how many fish have died. I should ask him. I gave a slight clear of my throat.

      "Hey, Gabe?"

      "Yeah?" He appeared by my side, not exactly touching me.

      "How many of your fish have died since you first got them?" I watched as one of the more exotic looking fish, Janet or something, swam leisurely through the water before my eyes.

      "Um, none? Why?"

      "Just wondering." I raised my eyebrows slightly at his answer. None? Fish usually died in a blink of an eye. He must take really good care of them.

      Judging from the crystal clear water of the non-deplorable tank, I think he did.

      "Are they hard work?" I asked.

      He shook his head, no. "They're easy to take care of if you keep up with them. Especially Jerry. He's super friendly."

      "You love him, don't you?" I said, smirking as Jerry swam past us. He didn't answer right away. I glanced over at him to see him looking at me, blue eyes bright from the glow of the tank. When our gazes met, though, he looked back at the fish tank, cheeks pink.

       He responded with a curt nod of his head. "Yes. I love him. And he loves me."

      "Fish can't love," I scoffed.

      "He's an eel and he can!" he defended, folding his arms across his chest. "Anything can love if it really wants to." He whispered the second part, I think more so to himself than me.

      "Who told you that?" I asked, intrigued by the philosophical-ness of the sentence.

      He froze at my words. Well, he was already pretty still when he whispered that phrase, but something about him changed. He seemed to stiffen up, eyes dimming.

      "Gabe?" I asked after a long moment of silence. He wasn't even blinking as he stared emotionlessly at the colorful fish in front of him.

      He slowly began shaking his head, blinking extra hard. "No one," he breathed.

      I didn't want him to shut me out. I realized that I needed to know more about his past in order to help him.

      "Obviously someone. You froze up as if you were remembering something painful."