#‘benign’ confuses me. it’s been explained that my cells are spreading around my body and that they might attack my organs

[321sluggie]

Gross shit in tags

[infaethable]

(part one here)

riz gukgak has been legally dead for a week when he wakes up in a hospital bed.

it’s not like in movies, he doesn’t come to consciousness all at once. he catches snippets of conversations and traces of sensations, the relief of his mother’s voice for half a second, the comforting smell of adaine’s bergamot shampoo that always lingers even a few days after a wash, a hand in his, rubbing a thumb across riz’s split and scabbed over knuckles before he finally fights the urge to go back into the sweet relief of unconsciousness and opens his eyes.

it's so bright that he immediately has to beat back the impulse to close them again, his pupils narrowing into slits in order to take in less light. he's got a killer headache, and his mouth is dry as he says the only thing he can think of.

which is understandably, "ow."

fabian, who riz had uncharacteristically not noticed sleeping silently in the chair beside the bed, falls out of said chair in surprise. riz lets a smile spread across his face, the first in a number of weeks.

now that he's more in himself, he takes in the room more and sees that clearly, he's been here for at least a little bit. if he had to guess, a couple of days. there are multitudes of cards on his bedside table, a kids one scrawled over in black sharpie clearly from fig, a handmade one that could be from kristen or gorgug, a lovingly colored in color by numbers type thing unmistakably from adaine, and a number of nondescript ones probably from distant classmates or his mom’s coworkers. on the windowsill is a slightly misshapen glass vase riz recognizes from it’s home on fabian’s dresser, holding a tin flower.  

riz leans over the side of his bed, ignoring the flash of pain from pulling his stitches (which he apparently has now?) and takes in fabian himself, who’s getting his bearings on the floor. he supposes he’s being hypocritical, as someone in a hospital bed, but fabian looks rough. 

he's got dark shadows under his eyes, and his hair, which over the past year had shifted slowly from straightened to loose bouncy curls, is frizzy, and disheveled like he’s run his hands through it too many times for the style to keep. his jacket, usually pressed (which riz made fun of to no end, the idea of pressing a letterman's jacket was so ridiculous-) was crumpled on the chair as if it had been draped over him like a blanket when he fell. and as fabian reaches a hand on the side of the hospital bed to help himself up, riz sees that there are white bandages wrapped around his palms.

riz feels a pang of worry along with the pull of his stitches, so he reluctantly repositions himself, but cocks his head to meet fabian’s gaze and croaks out (he should really ask about some ice chips-), “what happened to your hands?”

fabian finally gets himself to a standing position, blinks the sleep from his eyes, and says, "the ball. you’re- i'm going to get a nurse!" and runs out of the room.

riz gets about ten seconds of confusion before sklonda comes running in, and envelops him in the warmest hug he’s ever had and holds on for dear life.

and then, in a voice laced with more grief than he’s heard in six years, she says, 

"you- riz you were gone." 

and riz says back, trying not to get his mom’s curls in his mouth,

"i texted adaine?"

and sklonda pulls back, hands still on his shoulders, says, 

"and then you went missing for three weeks! they found three and a half pints of your blood on the floor of a laundromat in bastion city, riz you are so!"

and then she makes a noise that riz knows means she is utterly done with his antics and buries him in a hug again.

and a nurse comes and taps sklonda on the shoulder, "mrs. gukgak? we need to check his vitals." 

his mom corrects the nurse under her breath, “as i’ve told you, it’s miss gukgak.” before taking a step back.

riz answers benign questions like what country he's in (solace) what week it is (second week in november) how he’s feeling (bad) all the while craning his neck very subtly to see if fabian will come back in the room. his mom only rolls her eyes once. 

when the nurse leaves, sklonda sighs and rubs her temples, and starts, "riz, you lost- you lost so much blood." 

riz can’t meet his mother’s eyes as shame pools in his gut, says quietly, "i- not all of it was mine."

sklonda tenses, before continuing, "we figured that out when you showed up again, but riz, it was." and her eyes well up as her voice breaks, "if it had been, there was no way- you couldn't have survived it."

riz's brows furrow in confusion, as he prompts, “but it wasn't." 

and sklonda retorts with a frustrated hand gesture, "yes, well the idiots in the bastion city precinct didn't know that, riz." and pauses to make sure he's looking her in the eyes as she continues, "you were legally dead riz. for a week."

and riz's eyes widen as he takes in the information, "what- that's stupid. i was alive. didn't anyone do any divination spells? or locator spells? or, actually, fuck-” riz takes a quick breath as some machine next to him starts beeping, “i um. warded myself against divination and locator spells, but i think dead is a little bit of an overreaction! how does this happen?!" 

sklonda raises her voice, “calm down-” before taking a glance at the steadily rising heart rate monitor, and says in a low tone, “what's done is done, and the important thing is that you're alive."

riz does not calm down, his voice raising pitch slowly, "everyone thought i was dead? everyone?"

sklonda nods her head slowly, says, "we were about halfway through your will, which, by the way, how the fuck did you, a fifteen-year-old boy, get a will notarized without letting me know about it? do you want to explain that?"

riz's eyes are as wide as saucers as he says, "wait wait wait. my will? halfway- how much of my will?"

sklonda furrows her brows for a millisecond in confusion before a revelation washes over her face and incredulous anger sets in, 

"riz gukgak. you were legally dead for a week and that is what you're worried about? YOU LOST THREE PERCENT OF YOUR BODY WEIGHT IN BLOOD!"

and she takes a step back, takes a deep breath, and says, before riz can respond, "i am going to get myself another coffee, and you some ice chips. and you are banned from “deep cover” for- for till college!" 

and riz tries to sit up, but his stitches pull too painfully to ignore, so he cranes his neck to see out of the room as he shouts after her, "like in icarly?!"

sklonda shouts back, “stop pulling your stitches!” before disappearing out of sight. 

riz waits there for a couple of moments spiraling, maybe he got the old letter, fuck, did i remember to switch them out? habit of forgetting things integral to my wellbeing, please don’t fail me now, i promise i will never say anything bad about you again- maybe they didn’t even get through all of them? or maybe he got it but he didn’t open it? was going to save it for his wedding day or something like in that movie with julianne hough- before hearing tentative footsteps, and looks up to see fabian in the doorway, head down, wringing his hands. 

riz is suddenly acutely aware that he hasn’t talked to fabian (besides the brief exchange earlier) in almost a month, which would make it the longest he’s gone without talking to fabian since they met. even in those long and lonely weeks in jail, they found quiet ways to communicate. notes passed daisy chain style, the odd few messages by way of fig or adaine whenever both of their cell doors opened enough to let magic in. 

riz opens his mouth to say something, act like a normal fucking person, but- 

he can't.

and thankfully, fabian does, clears his throat and says, so quiet that riz might not be able to hear it if he weren't a goblin, "i got your letter."

fuck.

riz winces and looks down at his lap, the green of his hands contrasting with the pale blue hospital gown patterned with tiny dark blue polka dots. 

he holds his tongue as he thinks about what to say before finally responding, "you um.” so much for thinking about what to say, he thinks as he levels his gaze at fabian yet again, “i wrote two. i had to rewrite yours, for- reasons. which one?"

fabian takes a step into the room, pauses a moment, then closes the door behind him. fabian’s movements are slow and hesitant like he’s trying not to make any loud or sudden noises. he still won't meet riz's eyes. riz gets the sinking feeling that he knows what letter fabian read. 

fabian confirms it anyway, "the one where you said-" 

and that’s all riz needs to interrupt, his voice painfully high pitched at this point, "we don't have to talk about that. it- it was a contingency plan, just in case, you know, and we can just move past it." 

riz gives a smile that begs fabian to not notice his face is lime green right now. and then as a further misdirect, he adds, "you never told me what happened to your hands."

fabian finally meets riz's eyes, and his expression is. god, riz is so bad at reading faces, and he’d count fabian’s as his top three most readable faces, on the sheer amount he looks at it alone. he’s. confused? hurt? but that can't be true, why would fabian feel hurt? maybe he's mad riz took advantage of their friendship? but fabian denies that there's a friendship to betray at every turn-

his train of thought gets interrupted by fabian's next words, breathy with a hint of annoyance maybe, "i- my sword. burned my hands. when i made my pact." 

and riz's eyes widen even more as horror and panic sets it, what the fuck did fabian do-

"your WHAT?"

fabian winces at riz's gravelly voice, which cracks halfway through so it can't be very intimidating, before saying, "riz, it's not important, if we could just please talk about the letter-" 

riz interrupts him again, "i don't think my feelings for you matter as much as you selling your soul, fabian, why would you do that, oh my fucking gods-"

and fabian raises his voice for the first time, a hint of darkness and desperation riz hasn't ever heard before in his voice, "you were dead riz."

and riz quiets down, shakes his head from side to side a minuscule amount, before saying so quietly it could almost be a whisper, "what does that have to do with anything?"

fabian gets a look on his face that riz couldn't parse in a million years, his lips the smallest bit parted and his head shaking in mirror to riz’s. disagreement? confusion? riz can’t figure it out. 

fabian’s steps echo on the linoleum as he crosses the distance from the door to the side of riz’s bed. riz looks up at him, so much taller normally and even more imposing now, and he doesn’t know how fabian clocks it, but he does, leans down so he’s on his knees and he and riz are at eye level.

it's dizzying, to have fabian's full attention like this. he almost opens his mouth to question what are you doing? but can’t bring himself to break the magnetism of the moment. 

fabian’s gaze bores into his, and he says again, so softly riz thinks for a second that he wasn’t meant to hear it, and so broken that riz never wants to hear it again,

"riz. you were dead."

and for a beat, they just stare at each other.

fabian, slowly, slowly, reaches his hand to envelop riz’s, and it feels familiar. he can’t remember any other time fabian has held his hand, so that has to mean-

riz gets these feelings sometimes, little thorns of hope that dig their way in and whisper, what if- that inevitably disappoint when fabian crushes them underfoot. riz waits for the inevitable. 

the inevitable doesn’t happen. 

fabian leans in the slightest bit so that their foreheads are touching. so close that riz's breath hitches and fabian must feel it. and fabian has tears running down his face, riz doesn’t know how he missed fabian starting to cry, but he is, and fabian swallows a lump in his throat before saying in a pleading tone, 

"riz”

riz realizes that fabian hasn't called him the ball since he came in the room. 

so he says back, those thorns crawling their way into his voice, hope, bloody and raw, 

"yeah?"

fabian swallows again, and then, small and wavering, asks, "would you tell me again?"

and riz squeezes fabian's hand, involuntary, says, a tiny bit breathless,

"that i'm in love with you?"

and fabian nods imperceptibly, forehead still pressed against riz's.

so riz, with the conviction of a dead man, answers, "i'm in love with you."

and fabian inhales, sharply, before saying, "me too."

and then fabian kisses him.

and this isn't like the movies either, the tile is probably hard on fabian's knees, and riz has to crane his head to the side in his half laying down position, but fabian's mouth is warm and he tastes like coffee with so much sugar that it can't be called coffee anymore, and his hand that's not holding riz's comes to rest on the back of riz's neck, fingers threading into riz's curls. 

riz pulls away, takes a deep breath, and says, "you mean that you're in love with me, and not that you're in love with yourself right?" 

and fabian's face spreads into a smile and he laughs like sunlight that riz has barely seen in weeks, answers, "i'm in love with you, riz."

riz's voice is breathy and higher pitched than he would like as he says back, "cool cool cool. would you kiss me again?"

but as fabian goes to lean in again, he hears a voice from the doorway, the same nurse that took his vitals previously, 

"he most certainly will not. your heart rate is way too fast for the amount of blood you lost young man."

sklonda is behind her, arms crossed and eyebrows raised. 

fabian goes to back away with his arms up in a surrender motion, but at the last second presses a kiss to riz's lime green cheek, before he backs away for real. 

riz is already missing his presence as he meets sklonda at the doorway, where he finally breaks eye contact with riz to look her in the eyes. she puts a hand on his back to gently push him out of the doorway and into the hallway outside.

she says, annoyed in that way that means she’s not really annoyed but amused, “go get adaine. she’s been waiting for her turn for ten minutes, and if she waits any longer i can’t say in good conscience that she won’t murder you, and then we’d have an actual death on our hands.”

and sklonda turns back to riz, raises her eyebrows. riz raises his back, and she walks across the room to press a kiss to the corner of his head. the nurse rolls her eyes, mutters something about adventurers, and shuts the door on them.