call out my name [2gether]

CH 27

A smile then tugged at Type's lips suddenly. It was just so invigorating to think about Tine as alive and kicking, it was like a breath of fresh air was finally filling Type's lungs with dazzling relief. His little brother was back. He had finally made it, seemingly going all the way through hell and back. Type stifled the urge to cry, again.

Not having any strength left to have a petty fight with Type at this rate, Sarawat chose to just go with the truth.

"I think, uh, that I breathed life into Tine?" Sarawat arched his dark eyebrows, suddenly feeling confused by his own explanation.

"What the does that mean?" Type drawled suspiciously. "It's not like you're a god."

"No, but I think that I shared my life essence with Tine, maybe even split my life span with him." Sarawat stuck his shaky hands into the pockets of his slacks and shrugged. "I guess. We'll see how far it all goes."

Type narrowed his eyes, staring at the unenergetic posture of the other man. Well, that maybe could explain all the blood in Tine's room. Besides, it did not seem like Sarawat was lying, he looked too beat up for that. Tine's sudden awakening had been rather miraculous, even the doctors had been stunned into oblivion and with everything else that had been going on Type was inclined to believe that Sarawat was telling the truth, even if very, very reluctantly.

Type still wanted more proof but for now they could leave it at this. Tine was awake now, that was what mattered the most and Sarawat really needed to get that check up asap. The younger man was by now holding himself upright only because of the wall at his back. Type tsked. Once Tine was more coherent all of them had to sit down and have a serious conversation about this mess, there were just too many blanks that needed to be filled out. And besides, Type wanted to let Tine decide for himself what to do with the incriminating documents regarding his accident. Poor dude, Sarawat, getting into the middle of all these things.

"Okay. Let's talk about this later," Type said, surprising Sarawat by dropping the topic so easily. "But let's go and get you checked up by the medical staff. You really don't look too well right now."

Sarawat shook his head instantly, only succeeding in making himself dizzier than he already was.

"No, I need to see Tine," he replied stubbornly, eyes big and open.

"You can see him later. He's asleep right now." Type looked pensively at Sarawat for a moment and then added, "Tine is okay, he's doing good. The doctors are very positive about him making recovery but it's still going to take time. You can always see him later. Come on," Type pulled at Sarawat's sturdy upper arm and then fully supported his weight when the younger man leaned away from the wall. "You don't want him seeing you like this, trust me."

Sarawat smirked ironically, feeling strangely placated by Type's words. Maybe there really were kind people out there in the world, he had just never bothered to look before.

-----

Tine's consciousness was coming and going in waves but he was slowly, steadily coming into himself, into his own body that felt far too heavy and too big for his still fragile mind. The hours, maybe days even, were all clustered into a blurry, colorful mess inside his splintered mind, like a broken mirror that mockingly reflected things back at him. Kind faces and soft voices spoke to him, moving mouths multiplying in the reflective surfaces of the glass shards inside Tine's mind. Their well meaning words reached out to him all the way through the sluggish delirium he seemed to be stuck in, like ghostly hands dragging him out of the density that was his muddy mind.

There was however this one particular presence that Tine felt immensely drawn to on his own, like a moth to the flame, a presence he awfully missed each time as soon as it left his side. Even in his strangely delirious mind Tine could always recognize the low, soothing voice telling him sweet nothings. The slightly callused hands that carefully held his, while a thumb rubbed soft circles into the back of his hand. The warm fingers that carefully swept the messy hair out of Tine's face and curled it around his ear endearingly, then lingering for a sweet moment on his neck just where his heartbeat was racing through his veins. Each fleeting touch from this person sent electrifying sparks through Tine's rigid body, urging him to finally make a move on, not to miss this sought after opportunity to...