Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Morning, asshole.” Naib closes the door behind him as he enters the infirmary. “Guessing you’re not in the mood to talk today either?”

The person in the bed does not respond.

“Figures.” Naib takes his spot at the bedside, on a chair that he’s sat on so often, it’s practically his home. He places the tray with his breakfast on his lap and puts his coffee down on the bedside table.

On the bed, Campbell is motionless except for the slow rise and fall of his chest, proving he’s still very much alive.

But just in case, Naib can’t help but reach out and press two fingers to the pulse point on his wrist.

Ba-dum. Ba-dum.

He sighs and lets his attention drift back to his breakfast.

“Just checked the roster for today. There’s only three matches again. I’m with Gilman, Woods, and Mike.” He scoops up some beans into his mouth before biting off a piece of his bread roll. He keeps talking as he chews. “Been a while since I’ve been in a match with him actually. Heard from Alonso he’d distracted the Evil Reptilian the entire game last time and still managed to get out. Hopefully he’s not our hunter today, or else I’m almost a hundred percent sure Mike’s doomed.”

He swallows down the bread. It feels like a chore.

“Though maybe it’ll be a good thing. If he tunnels Mike out of anger there’s a good chance we can get everyone out.”

Campbell doesn’t answer, but Naib doesn’t expect him to.

He can still see the rise and fall of his chest, and that’s enough. It’s more than enough.

He reaches out to feel his pulse again anyway.

Ba-dum. Ba-dum.

Sighing, he goes back to trying to finish his breakfast.

“Pierson and Riley are on the same team, again. I’m really hoping it’s not going to be a repeat of the incident from last time, but with those two who knows what can happen.” He manages to swallow the last of his beans down, and prays they don’t come back up again. “Captain Behamfil’s with them though. Hopefully she’ll be able to rein them in. Can’t help but worry for them though. I still can’t believe Riley almost let Pierson bleed out last time…”

As he chatters idly, he hears the door open behind him. When he turns, he sees Dorval has walked in, a hand on her hip, a small smile on her face.

“Hey, soldier. Got a minute?”

Naib gestures vaguely to the chair next to him, fork still in his hand.

“Be my guest.”

He turns back to face Campbell as she takes a seat.

“He doing any better?”

Naib shakes his head.

“No better no worse. The doctor’s thinking of asking the manor owner for some new medicine tomorrow, just to see if it’ll make a difference. If he’ll even oblige her request, that is.” The breakfast feels like flavourless mush in his mouth.

Dammit, I can’t eat anymore.

He picks up his coffee before putting the tray out of the way, on to the bedside table. He turns slightly to face her. “Did you need something?”

She looks between him and Campbell worriedly for a second before schooling her expression back into an easy smile.

“Actually wanted to get your opinion about something. What do you think is the best route to take if you get saved off the “Cursed Rocket Chair” in the Red Church?”

Game strategy, yes. Naib can always talk about game strategy.

“I mean as always, it depends on the situation…”

And so, the time passes, as it always does.

Dorval and him talk strategy, talk about their teammates, which location they’d least like to go down in, First Officer Baden’s kitchen disaster that Naib missed yesterday…

(“Wait… are you saying there’s still some cheese stuck up there?”

“We couldn’t scrape it off, it’s stuck too far in. The mighty broom can only do so much.”

“Well, if the “Mighty Broom” can’t do it, the “Mighty Mouse Infestation” probably will.”

“Oh god...”)

She does not bring up the man lying still on the bed next to them again. Not even when Naib, thinking he saw Campbell’s chest still for a moment, reached out frantically to check his pulse before continuing the conversation as if nothing happened.

He sees it in her eyes. How badly she wants to say something.

He’s grateful she doesn’t.

His cup of coffee has long since been emptied and found its way back onto the tray when Dorval looks at the clock.

“Ah, game time in two hours.” Dorval rises from her chair and Naib watches as she starts making her way to the door. “I’m going to eat a bit beforehand. Did you want anything?”

“Thanks, but I’m good. I’ll grab something just before the game.” He turns his chair so he’s fully facing Campbell again.

He hears the door open behind him but not close. Dorval is still in the room, watching him. He can feel her stare.

Just when he thinks she might leave without saying another word, she finally speaks.

“Naib?”

Still looking at Campbell, Naib turns his head slightly to show that he’s listening.

“Will you come eat dinner with us tonight? Everyone misses you.”

A tight feeling invades Naib’s chest.

He turns his attention fully back to Campbell and raises an arm at her in a wave. His voice is light when he speaks.

As it always is.

“I’ll think about it.” He won’t. “Have a good lunch, Dorval.”

It takes a few moments, but eventually the door closes, and Naib is alone.

No. Naib is never alone here.

“They’re all such worrywarts all of a sudden.” Naib sighs and reaches out to feel Campbell’s pulse again.

Ba-dum. Ba-dum.

It’s steady.

He twists his hand to slot his fingers between Campbell’s and relishes at the warmth in his hold.

He squeezes his hand slightly, and wishes Campbell would squeeze back. But he doesn’t.

“Hey Campbell…” He brings their joined hands closer to his face. Then, softly, carefully, as if he’s afraid of breaking him, he kisses the back of the man’s hand. “You’re such an asshole, you know that?”

It remains limp in his hold.

Naib smiles gently as he puts their hands back onto the bed.

“Whatever. I’ll wait for you, dumbass.”

I can wait as long as it takes.

***

“Cut the crap, Campbell.”

Norton takes another swig out of the bottle, before putting it back down onto the bench between him and Subedar.

“Look, I know it sounds like bullshit, but I know what I saw.”

It’s Subedar’s turn. He reaches down, grabs the bottle, and downs a lot more than he had last time. He puts it back down with enough force that Norton’s worried it might shatter.

“Alright, but isn’t this so-called “Loch Ness monster” like an Irish thing or something? What the hell was it doing in your hometown?”

Norton waves his finger wonkily in front of Subedar’s face.

“It’s a magical creature, my dear mercenary.” He grabbed the bottle and took a swig again. “I’m sure it can be wherever on this goddamn Earth it may well please.”

“I still call bullshit, Campbell.”

“You can call whatever you want. It won’t change what I saw.”

Subedar laughs haughtily before leaning back against the bench and staring up at the indoor garden’s roof.

“Whatever you say, Campbell.”

“Yes.” Norton mimics his pose and laughs. “Whatever I say.”

He heard Subedar laugh. “You’re so drunk.”

“You’re drunker.”

“Fuck you, no I’m not!”

“Hey! Look over there! Why’s Kreiss doing a handstand?”

Norton hears Subedar move to sit up.

“What? Where?”

Norton laughs. He can feel Subedar’s glare on him.

“See? You are drunk!”

“How does that prove that I’m drunk!?”

He hears Naib flop against the back of the bench.

“I hate you.”

Norton laughs again as he picks up the whiskey to take another swig. Disappointment fills him upon realising it was empty.

“Fuckkk.” He tries to shake the last few drops out of the bottle and into his waiting mouth. “We’re all out.”

“Yeah no thanks to you, asshole.”

He puts the bottle down between them again and sits up to look at Subedar. “No thanks to me? You’re the one that chugged it like it was a contest. I’d say I drank moderately.”

“Oh yeah?” Subedar sits up too. “Let’s see you walk in a straight line then, Mr. I Drank Moderately.”

“Ooh? Is that a challenge? What do I get if I win?”

Subedar makes a contemplative expression. He worries his lower lip slightly between his teeth, and holds his chin with a thumb and index finger, looking a bit like a detective contemplating a particularly confounding piece of evidence he found.

God, he’s so cute like that.

The thought is sobering, and Norton wants to slap himself for it.

But before he can truly mentally berate himself, Subedar’s eyes flicker with inspiration.

“If you can walk in a straight line, between here and the door, then I’ll let you ask me one thing, and I’ll answer one hundred percent honestly no matter what the question is.”

Norton looks at him like he’s mad. “What are we? Twelve?”

And Subedar laughs, so happily and freely, in a way Norton hardly ever hears. He can’t help but think it’s one of the best sounds he’s heard in his life.

“Actually, I’ll do it too. First to the door is the winner, and they can ask the loser anything.”

“How’s that supposed to prove if I drank moderately or not?”

“Don’t sweat the details, Campbell.” Norton doesn’t miss the way he slightly wobbles on his way to stand up fully. “Come on. You ready?”

Despite rolling his eyes, Norton stands. “This is stupid.”

“You’re stupid.” Subedar makes up a pose like he’s ready for a hundred metre sprint. “Come on. On three.”

Norton mimics him, thinking of what he’ll ask when he beats Subedar.

(Because he will beat him, of course he will. Subedar can barely stand and Norton… can stand slightly better.)

“One.”

From the corner of his eye, he looks at Subedar’s face.

“Two.”

It looks radiant, the flush high on his cheeks making him look younger and more alive than Norton has ever seen him. His lips are twisted into a happy grin.

Norton wonders what it tastes like.

“Three!”

Honestly, they should’ve anticipated what happened next.

Norton’s still distracted when Subedar runs off, giving him a two second head start. But it’s a short, maybe fifteen meters distance between them and the door. It should have just been a quick straight dash to the finish line.

Instead though, uncoordinated and muddled as he is from the alcohol, Norton ends up tripping and colliding straight into Subedar’s back. The two of them tumble down over the ground like a couple of drunken buffoons.

Norton ends up eating the dirt on the garden grounds.

“Ow… Fuck.”

Well… That was stupid.

He curses and tries to lift himself up slightly off the ground. As he does, he spits harshly, trying to chase away the taste of dirt on his tongue.

Subedar groans nearby. When Norton looks over, he can see him rolling over onto his back about two meters away from him and staring at the roof.

Naib speaks first. “Maybe… that was a bad idea.”

Norton manages to roll over onto his back too. “Maybe.”

For a few moments, they both just lie like that, panting and barely moving.

Then, shuffling sounds come from Subedar’s direction, and suddenly, his face is looming over Norton, looking down at him.

And god, the sight of him has Norton in flames.

His hood had come down, revealing dishevelled hair, with his hairband barely keeping any of it in place. There’s a flush covering his entire face, and his eyes look a little dazed from the fall and the alcohol. Those lips (those oh so kissable looking lips) form a little “o” as he pants, still slightly winded.

Norton almost reaches up to pull his beautiful face down and kiss him senseless. And maybe this is the true indicator that he’s not completely drunk, because he was sure that if he was slightly more intoxicated, he might just do something as dumb as that.

It feels like an eternity before Subedar speaks above him.

“So… who wins?”

Norton swallows and tries to respond.

“I’m not… I’m not sure either of us won that.”

Subedar swallows too, and Norton is absolutely fascinated by the movement of his throat. He wonders if Subedar is sensitive there. If pressing kisses into it would melt him, if sucking a hickey into a particular part of it would drive him insane.

God he’s so in love with him.

Subedar speaks again. His eyes are hooded and maybe Norton’s brain is just so amped up on alcohol that it’s making him see things but…

It almost looks like Subedar’s staring at his lips.

He speaks again.

“That’s… a shame.” Subedar seems to be leaning in slightly closer. But Norton’s sure he’s just imagining it. “If you won though…”

He’s wondering if he’s imagining the sudden rise in temperature too.

“What would you have asked me, Campbell?”

Maybe he is more drunk then he thought, because the words are out of his mouth before he even realises it.

“I wanted to ask if I could kiss you.”

The surprise on Subedar’s face is the first thing he registers straight after. The second thing is his own panic.

I fucked up.

“W-wait! Shit-! No-!”

He brings up his arms to cover his face.

I fucked up I fucked up I fucked up he’s going to hate me I fucked up…

“F-forget I said that. Just ignore me, I’m just-!”

“Norton.”

Norton’s mind grinds to a halt.

Subedar’s voice doesn’t sound angry or hateful, like he thought he would. In fact it sounds… relieved?

He dares to sneak a glance at him, removing his arms from his face just enough to see Subedar.

He wasn’t imagining it. Subedar’s so close now, his arms on either side of Norton’s face, holding himself up only a few centimetres above Norton’s face.

He’s definitely staring at his lips now.

“What if I told you…” He leans closer, to the point they’re practically sharing breaths. Norton feels like he’s going to combust.

It’s only when he’s so close their lips are almost touching that Subedar finishes speaking.

“…that I wanted ask you the same thing too?”

Norton isn’t even sure who kissed first.

He let his arms surge upwards and pull Subedar down towards him, his arms holding on to his back for dear life. The taste of whiskey stands out the most, but there’s something else. A taste that’s all Subedar. So wonderful and perfect and so Naib that Norton melts.

Subedar tangles his hand in Norton’s hair, and the feeling is so divine and comforting that Norton can’t help but basically mewl into his mouth. He feels Subedar laugh as he pulls away slightly, the sound warm and sunny and Norton loves him. He loves him so much.

Subedar cups his cheek with his other hand and stares down at Norton fondly. So, so fondly. Norton almost wants to cry.

He looks like he wants to say something, but just as he opens his mouth, he shakes his head and goes back to kissing Norton senseless.

Norton’s pretty sure the alcohol finally gets to him not long after that. Despite the cold hard ground beneath him, he falls asleep comfortable and warm for the first time in a long time, knowing he is safe in Subedar’s arms.

***

Naib has a routine now.

Every day, he wakes up, does his morning exercises, checks the roster, grabs breakfast, then goes to Norton. Later, he takes his empty plate back to the kitchen, eats a bit of lunch quickly, goes to a game if he has one, and then goes back to Norton. If there’s no game, he goes straight back to Norton. Later still, he grabs dinner, goes to Norton, puts his plate in the kitchen again, goes back to Norton, and then around eleven thirty goes to his own room to shower and sleep. When he wakes up the next day, he starts the process all over again.

He’s at the “goes to Norton after a game” part of the schedule now, and he hasn’t missed any steps. So you could say the day is going pretty well, even if it doesn’t feel like it to Naib.

The late afternoon sun colours Campbell’s room in a deep orange when Naib walks into the room.

“Hey, I’m back.”

There’s no response, as always.

When Naib sits on his chair again, the first thing he does is check Campbell’s pulse through his wrist.

Ba-dum. Ba-dum.

Steady.

Naib sighs softly and lets go of his wrist to lean back in his chair.

“Got a draw. It wasn’t the lizard, unfortunately.” He thinks back to how horribly the match went and how lucky they got. “Bloody Queen terror shocked Gilman off a cipher. She’d just gotten Woods and we were all expecting her to get chaired. But the mirror was still up and Gilman just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time.”

Naib picked up the book Kurt had lent him and skimmed through to find where he’d left his bookmark.

“Thankfully I got downed on top of the dungeon and Mike managed to leave in time. I saw Bloody Queen swinging her knife wildly in frustration when I left. She really wanted that win.” Naib laughs slightly. He tries not to think about Woods’ battered and bruised body, the bandages that the doctor had carefully wrapped around her not completely hiding the blood.

Woods had smiled at him there, all relief and sincere gratefulness.

“Thank you for the body block, Mr. Subedar! Sorry I couldn’t last much longer after that, but I couldn’t have done it without you!”

Naib sighs.

He looks at Campbell’s still body and wonders not for the first time why he’s the one in that bed. Why he’s there and Naib’s not. He should be the one closest to death. Not Campbell. Never Campbell.

This never should have happened.

Naib tries to not remember the blood.

He tries not to remember the emptiness in his chest, the feeling that something else was about to be taken away from him, all too soon and without reason. Like everything he’s ever held dear.

Campbell is in that bed because of him. But he shouldn’t be. Naib should be the one here.

(No, Naib should be dead. The fact that Campbell survived is a miracle.

This shouldn’t have happened.)

The clock on the wall disrupts his thoughts as it rings to signify the passing of another hour. It’s six o’clock. Naib hadn’t even noticed how dark the room had gotten.

Shit! The lights!

As quickly as he could, he scrambled with the drawer underneath the bedside table, reaching in to grab the matches within. He lights the lamp by Norton’s bedside with urgency.

“There…”

He’d still have to go around to light the main lights, but at least the room wasn’t shrouded in darkness anymore

“Shit… I’m so sorry.” He reached out to Campbell’s wrist again.

Ba-dum. Ba-dum.

Naib sighed.

Campbell hates the dark. He’d told Naib once that it brought back bad memories for him. He’d never said why, but it was a fact about him that Naib had never forgotten.

So lighting up the room had become another part of Naib’s routine, one he does just before the sun disappears. He’d seen Campbell in the pitch, black, dark once, by accident.

(“Campbell, come on. Breathe with me.”

“N-no-! S-stay away! Stay away!”

“Campbell-“

“P-please… Forgive me…”)

Never again.

He can’t help but beat himself up for almost forgetting.

“I’m behind schedule today, it seems.” Looking at the clock again, Naib starts to rise from his chair. “Sorry to leave so soon but I… I need to grab some dinner. But I’ll be right back, as always. I promise.”

To reassure himself, he tightens his hold on Campbell’s wrist slightly.

Ba-dum. Ba-dum.

Steady. As always.

As always…

He hesitates.

Maybe he can skip dinner. Just this once. Someone will probably come bring something to him later anyway. They always concern themselves with him too much these days, so relying on them this once is alright, no? He should just stay, make it up to Campbell for not turning the light on in time. Watch over him, make sure his chest keeps rising and falling and his heart doesn’t stop. Just this once is okay right? The doctor won’t mind…

Before he spirals completely, Naib shakes his head and takes a deep breath.

No. Stick to schedule. Stick to routine. You have to- you have to look after yourself.

Almost reluctantly, he lets go of Campbell’s wrist and looks down on him in the bed.

You don’t have to do it for yourself…

Naib begins to walk out of the room.

Just do it for him.

At the threshold, he looks back and smiles at the figure on the bed.

“See you soon, asshole.”

***

Norton wakes in his own room, disorientated, groggy, and just in general feeling like he’d just been thrown off a cliff. He’s got a killer headache and wants to throw up.

Which is what he promptly does.

He runs into the small bathroom connected to his room and heaves most of what he ate yesterday down the toilet drain.

Fuck… Wh-what happened?

Norton gets a bit worried when he realises he can’t quite recall what had happened yesterday night. He squeezes his eyes shut and tries his best to will the memories back into existence. Vague images of a bottle of whiskey and sweet lips come to mind.

Norton freezes.

Uh-oh.

In that moment, last night crashes over him. The whiskey. The challenge. The fall. Subedar’s lips, sweet and pliant against his.

I fucked up.

He runs his palm across his face.

I really fucked up.

Norton realises he probably passed out in the garden. At least, he hopes so because his memories abruptly cut off during his kiss with Subedar.

And god was it a good kiss.

And Subedar… Subedar kissed him back, right? Maybe… Norton hadn’t fucked everything between them yet. Maybe Subedar likes him back and they can- they can…

Norton bangs his head against the toilet.

Fuck…

He bangs it a second time.

What the hell am I thinking? Subedar he doesn’t… he can’t…

Swallowing back his emotions, Norton instead continues to expel the contents of his stomach back out.

I fucked up.

*

It takes a while for Norton to pull himself together enough to force himself out of his room.

By the time he makes it down to the dining room, most of the survivors had already eaten and were milling about here and there. Some are discussing the games scheduled for today, and some are speaking of mundanities, as if they were trying to will the imminent possibility of death as far from their minds as possible.

So he’s surprised when he finds Subedar there, at the end of the table, spoon aimlessly stirring his half-eaten porridge.

Norton feels a sense of panic beginning to build in the pit of his stomach.

J-just go up to him… just greet him as usual…

Limbs feeling heavier than lead, Norton walks closer to him.

“G-good morning.”

Norton doesn’t know what kind of reaction he’s expecting from Subedar. Disgust? Annoyance?

Anger?

But he gets none of those. In fact, when Subedar looks up at him, Norton sees apprehension.

Fear.

But he schools it into a more blank expression only moments later, letting his eyes drift back down to his porridge.

“Good morning. You feeling alright? You passed out yesterday.”

Norton blinks down at him.

“Uhm… yeah I’m alright…” Norton looks around. The closest people to them are Plinius and Dorval, who are quietly speaking at the end of the table. Norton lowers his voice. “Listen… last night… I…”

“It’s alright. I’m sorry, Campbell.”

Despite his words, Subedar’s voice is calm, like always.

“Huh? Wh-at?”

Subedar has a kind of forlorn and regretful expression on his face. It’s an expression that scares Norton.

The spoon goes lax in the porridge.

“I… took advantage of you last night. I knew you were really drunk but… I didn’t realise you were that drunk.” He stands up and looks at Norton with sincerity and regret written all over his face. “God I’m… fuck I’m really sorry.”

He shakes his head, before picking up his plate and making his way to the kitchen. Norton, mind still reeling and not quite working from his hangover, watches as he puts his plate on the pile of dirty dishes and quickly makes his way back out.

He’s holding the top of his hood, hiding his eyes, as he speaks to Norton once more.

“I’ll see you for the game.”

And just like that, he leaves.

Norton’s mind barely catches up to him.

What…

What the fuck?

Nearby, Dorval clears her throat. Norton had almost forgotten about her and Plinius, sitting at the other end of the table.

“You alright Norton? That was… something.”

Norton looks at the door Subedar had just left out of. He feels a tightness in his chest as his mind tries to process what just happened.

Subedar feels upset. And Norton had expected this but… it’s not for the reason he thought it would be.

Subedar thought he was taking advantage of him?

But wasn’t it the other way around? Wasn’t Norton meant to be the one who took that drunken kiss as the one true opportunity to be that close to the man he’d fallen for?

But, Subedar thinks…

Somehow, despite the generally terrible mood of their meeting this morning, Norton feels something different bloom in his chest. Something he shouldn’t deserve but…

Something he greedily wants to hold onto anyway.

“Yeah it was… something.”

Plinius scoffs. “Fools.”

Norton ignores her, but hides the hopeful smile on his face behind his hand anyway.

***

“So there we all were, and the captain was furious. His face looked like it was going to explode.” Naib laughs to himself quietly, recalling that day in vivid detail. “You bet your ass he made us do so many drills the next day half of us couldn’t walk, but if you sent me back in time, I’d probably still do the same thing. The fucking asshole got what he deserved.”

Naib sighs.

“God I wish I was in the room when they finally fired him. Oh yeah, they did fire him by the way. Might’ve even executed him. I think he got caught selling military secrets or something. Wasn’t any of my business. I was just glad to see him gone. He took so much pride in being a military captain… but in the end he was a traitor through and through.”

Campbell, as always, has no reply.

Naib smiles down gently at him.

“How much longer are you going to keep sleeping for, huh?” Naib reaches out to his wrist. “I mean, I appreciate how well you listen to me now, but some input would be-“

Naib’s heart jumps into his throat.

There’s no pulse.

“No.” He gets up abruptly and grabs Norton by his shoulders. “No. N-n-no!”

He brings one hand to feel for his pulse under his neck.

Nothing.

“Norton! Norton!”

He shakes him and shakes him, but there is no life beneath his skin.

His body is cold.

“No… Norton….”

But there is no reply. There never would be.

So Naib screams.

*

“Naib!”

Someone shakes him awake.

“Naib! Are you alright!?”

Panting heavily, Naib finds himself still in the chair by Campbell’s bed. He looks around for the source of the voice, and sees Kurt standing near, one hand on his shoulder. Dr. Dyer is also in the room behind him, staring at Naib worriedly.

“K-Kurt. Why are you-?“

“Don’t mind me, I was just coming in to talk to you a bit. It’s alright, friend. Deep breaths now, deep breaths.”

Naib tries to follow his instructions, before abruptly remembering his dream.

“Norton-!”

He turns to the still figure on the bed and grabs his wrist almost violently.

Ba-dum. Ba-dum.

The relief is all-consuming and Naib feels like he might pass out from the force of it.

Oh thank god… Thank god…

He slumps in his chair, not letting go of Campbell’s wrist.

He’s okay… He’s still alive… He’s still alive…

There’s still a warm and steady hand on his shoulder.

“You were thrashing and groaning in your sleep, friend. Sorry I had to wake you up so roughly but… you looked like you were in a lot of pain.”

Naib looks over at Kurt, who’s looking at him with an expression full of worry. Naib wishes he could stop making them look at him like that.

He’s not the one who’s life hangs in the balance. He’s not the one who hasn’t woken up in over two weeks.

Their kindness is wasted on him.

“No… I’m-“ Naib takes a deep breath, steadying himself. He somehow manages to pull himself together, even if only slightly. “I’m alright. Just a nightmare. Sorry, don’t mind me.”

Naib is used to the nightmares. They’ve plagued him since the military, haunting him both in the night and in the day. But that was the first time he had one about Campbell. It had felt so real Naib thinks he can still feel his cold skin beneath his fingertips.

He tightens his hold on the wrist slightly.

Ba-dum. Ba-dum.

Kurt squeezes his shoulder, and when Naib looks over at him, his face is full of grim understanding.

“It’s okay. It wasn’t real.”

Naib nods and looks back down at Campbell.

“Yeah… it wasn’t.”

In his periphery, he can see the doctor doing her usual nightly check-ups. “Have you been getting enough sleep? A lack of it may cause your nightmares to be more severe. I could recommend you some medication.”

At her words, Naib looks over at the clock on the wall. It reads half past eleven.

Okay… At least I can sleep on time…

Naib takes another deep breath.

“No I’ve- I’ve been sleeping as much as usual. I’m just… wound up. Sorry for worrying you. I should head out for the night already.”

He’d promised himself he wouldn’t sleep in this room. Not since the first night. He’d already spent most of his waking hours here, but spending his sleeping hours here too was dangerous.

People walked in and out of here all the time. He didn’t need someone getting frightened as his demons haunted him in his sleep. He didn’t need to accidentally threaten someone with his knife because the dream chased him into the waking world.

So every day, after spending the evening watching Campbell’s still form, Naib would force himself out, no matter how hard it may be, and went to sleep in his own bed.

And god, some days he’d really have to force himself.

Like today.

The nightmare sticks to him like the stickiest sap. He’s tangled so deeply in it, that even with Campbell’s warm wrist in his hand, he can’t stop recalling his all too still form from his dream. He feels like any second, the reassuring Ba-dum would cease, and he’d lose all hope of seeing those dark, deep eyes stare into his again. He’d lose all hope of feeling those lips on his again, warm, and soft and wanting.

What if I never hear his voice again?

“Naib.”

Kurt’s voice cuts through his thoughts.

Naib looks at him, still at his side with a hand on his shoulder. When he smiles, it’s warm and familiar.

“Shall we walk back together, old friend? We’re on the same floor, after all.”

The offer to help is barely hidden in the question, but Naib is grateful for Kurt covering it nonetheless. He looks at Campbell’s still form one more time, and concentrates on the pulse at his fingertips.

Ba-dum. Ba-dum.

The doctor sounds exasperated but not unkind when she speaks to him. “I tell you this every time, Mr. Subedar, but you have nothing to worry about. I’ll take good care of him.”

And Naib knows this. He knows this very well. He trusts Dr. Dyer. Maybe a little too much. At first it was because there was no choice, but now he knows.

She would never let them down. That’s just the kind of doctor she is.

So he smiles at her as he stands and finally wills himself to let go of Campbell’s hand.

“Thank you, doctor.”

She smiles at him back.

He and Kurt start making their way out of the room. At the threshold, Naib looks back to the bed one more time. He can still see the rise and fall of Campbell’s chest, and he tries to let that calm him as much as possible.

He manages another smile at the still figure.

“See you tomorrow, asshole.”

*

“So how did you like it?”

They’re walking up the stairs to the manor’s third floor when Kurt finally speaks up. Naib looks at him curiously.

“Like what?”

“The book I lent you. I noticed you took out the bookmark, so I’m assuming you’ve finished it.”

Oh. The book.

“It was… nice.” Naib recalled the fantastical passages he’d read aloud to Campbell.

(“”Dinah’s our cat. And she’s such a capital one for catching mice you can’t think! And oh, I wish you could see her after the birds! Why, she’ll eat a little bird as look at it!””

Naib laughed quietly and reached to take Campbell’s hand, habitually feeling for his pulse.

“This girl… first the mouse, and now the group of birds too. Really can’t keep her mouth shut, like a certain someone I know.”)

“It was kind of like… someone took the nonsense dreams I had as a child and stuffed them into a book. Kind of made me nostalgic.”

Kurt laughed quietly. “Yes, Carroll’s work is really quite wonderful in that way.” At the landing they made a sharp right and made their way down to Naib’s room. “Who was your favourite character? I personally always favoured the caterpillar. Something about his sudden appearance on the mushroom just never left me.”

Naib thinks about it. “It’s got to be the Cheshire Cat, I guess? He’s just such an enigma, and despite saying he’s mad he’s probably the most sane character in the story, maybe minus Alice.”

Kurt makes an affirmative noise. “Yes, I’m not surprised. You remind me of him a bit, you know.”

The absolute seriousness with which Kurt says this makes Naib snort.

“What? What could I have in common with a grinning magical cat?”

Kurt made an expression like he was deep in thought before speaking.

“His existence may be absurd all in all, but when he appears, he’s almost a kind of support for Alice, right? He’s there when she doesn’t know where to go, he’s there when she’s playing croquet and looking for some way to escape from it. I don’t know about you, but whenever he showed up he felt like… a reassuring presence to me.” He smiles at Naib, happily and honestly. “Now that I say it out loud, he sounds more and more like you, no?”

Naib doesn’t know what to say.

In this manor, Kurt probably knows him best. He, more than anyone, knows the blood on Naib’s hands, the screams and death that follow him. There’s some on Kurt’s too, but he was never quite like Naib.

Naib was a killing machine. That’s what the higher ups called him. He was efficient, a weapon of war. After a while, he’d become numb enough that he could push the screams of his victims and his own dead comrades deep down into his soul, where they may haunt him only in his dreams.

(And in his waking dreams too.)

But Kurt wasn’t like him. He’d never gotten used to the military. Naib saw first hand his gradually declining sanity, the way he could barely hang on to himself some days. When he’d finally left without a word to anyone, Naib had not been surprised. This was not the life for him. He was a person who still deserved happiness, no matter what the military had done to him.

Unlike Naib. Naib, who was irredeemable. Naib, who doesn’t deserve good things.

(Naib, who doesn’t deserve Campbell.)

Why does Kurt thinks he’s a good person?

“Mr. Campbell is a bit like Alice, I think.”

Kurt’s voice breaks him out of his trance. He realises they’re standing outside of his own room.

“He’ll wake up soon, and tell you all about his adventures, as well as the strange people and creatures he met on them. Including that strange Cheshire Cat who was always by his side.” The smile he shows Naib is kind. Too kind. “Have faith in him.”

Naib doesn’t cry. He doesn’t let himself cry. Yet, he can’t help but feel a bit choked up. Kurt’s always been a little too good with his words.

“Kurt...”

Kurt pats his shoulder a few times.

“I’ve got something else to lend to you tomorrow. I hope both you and Mr. Campbell enjoy it.”

He turns and begins to walk to his own room. He glances back at Naib one more time and waves. “Good night, old friend. Let’s hang out in a place that isn’t the infirmary one of these days, alright?”

Naib stares after him for a while, his heart a knot of emotions he can’t quite untangle, until finally, he manages to open the door to his room.

***

Subedar doesn’t look at him.

Norton sits at the head of the dining table, with Kreiss on one side next to him, and Reznik on his other. Subedar sits a little ways away from them, a seat separating him and Reznik. They’re waiting to go into the preparation room for their match. The atmosphere is… strange.

Kreiss looks between them all with his shovel clutched tightly to his person. He’s twitchy like he’s nervous, but his face is full of frustration, like he’s been waiting for something that just won’t happen. Subedar has his hood pulled up in a way that makes it difficult to see his eyes, and he looks off to the side, not looking at any of them.

Norton wants to talk to him desperately, but he hasn’t been able to catch him alone since the morning. With the atmosphere between them as it is, he doesn’t really know how to speak to him.

Reznik is the first to try actually starting a conversation.

“Umm…” She speaks nervously, looking between the three of them with apprehension on her face. “Please keep me informed of where the hunter is if you see him. I’ll um… do my best to hide early game… but I’m sorry if I get chased first…”

Subedar finally speaks, though he only slightly turns his head, still not looking at any of them, but especially not Norton.

“Unless the first person downed gets the basement, leave the first rescue to me, Kreiss. Campbell, only save if neither Kreiss nor I are available. Reznik, you’ll probably have to rescue late game, especially if your robot’s down or can’t decode anymore.”

Norton sees Kreiss bristle.

“Y-you’re saying I’m not good enough to manage th-the first rescue?!” He clutches his shovel closer to him and glares at Subedar. “Y-you think me and this shovel aren’t good enough, right?! You’ve just been waiting for an opportunity to call me out for it, right?! You b-!”

“Kreiss, you know as well as I do this is the most efficient method.” Subedar finally looks at Kreiss across the table. “Besides, if I get injured or something else happens to me before that, I’ll be relying on you, alright?”

Reznik pipes up and smiles at Kreiss. “That’s right, Mr. Kreiss! We’re all counting on you today, too!”

Kreiss grumbles something under his breath which Norton doesn’t catch but ultimately doesn’t say anything else.

Norton had hoped that Reznik’s prompting would at least encourage Subedar to at least talk more game strategy, but Subedar turns away again, and the table grows silent.

Shit, say something. Come on.

But nothing comes to mind.

Several times, he sees Reznik seemingly starting to speak, before apparently thinking against it and closing her mouth.

They sit in silence until the tell tale sound of the preparation room door opening reaches their ears.

“F-finally…” Kreiss is the first to get up and quickly stalk towards the room.

Reznik gets up next. She closes her eyes and presses her remote control to her chest. She takes a few deep breaths before looking at both Norton and Subedar with determination on her face.

“Let’s do our best!”

Norton nods. “Of course.”

Subedar smiles at her. “Good luck out there.”

She nods, and starts making her way into the preparation room behind Kreiss.

Soon, he and Subedar are the only ones left.

Norton sees that there’s an opportunity here to speak to Subedar, to be upfront with him and clear up the misunderstanding between them. But he can’t help but hesitate.

What if he’s read the situation all wrong? What if Subedar turns up his nose in disgust at him after he pours his heart out to him? What if Subedar’s realised just how awful and horrible a person Norton is after all?

Maybe this just… isn’t the right time. Yeah, that’s it. Let’s leave it to later, yeah?

He sees Subedar rise from his chair.

“Let’s head in.”

I can tell him another time… yeah there’s still time.

Norton nods. “Yeah… Let’s go.”

Subedar starts walking to the preparation room.

There’s still time…

Norton stands to follow him.

There’s still-

But suddenly stops.

Inexplicably, something like adrenaline shoots through his veins, and the glint of an indistinguishable hunter weapon flashes through his mind.

It’s covered in blood.

But what if there’s no time left?

“Subedar, wait.”

Subedar turns slightly to look at him out of his periphery.

Norton realises it’s the first time he’s gotten to see his face properly since the morning. Subedar has bags under his eyes most days, but today they seem especially prominent, suggesting he might not have slept at all last night. But more importantly, despite the hardiness that is a staple of his normal expression, it doesn’t help him mask his emotions in completely.

He looks so sad.

“Don’t worry, I won’t let what happened affect the match.” He turns away completely and starts walking again. “I’ll try to keep my distance from you, too if that’s what you’re worried about. But sorry if it’s unavoidable when I’m trying to-“

“I wanted it, Naib.”

Subedar stops abruptly and turns. Finally, for the first time since that morning, he looks at Norton. Really looks at Norton. With a face so full of disbelief you may as well have told him the moon is made of cheese and they’d been living on it their whole lives.

And god Norton loves him.

He can’t say it out loud yet.

“I wanted to kiss you last night, Naib.”

But he loves him so much.

Subedar continues to look at him like he’d just grown three extra heads.

“That kiss... you didn’t take advantage of me. And I don’t regret it. Did you forget…”

Norton steps closer. 

“…I said I wanted to ask you to kiss me Naib. I wanted to… so badly.”

There’s about a meter of space between them, but it’s all charged electricity, threatening to burn them alive with its intensity.

What he wouldn’t do to close those last few steps between them. But he can’t.

Not yet. 

So he takes a deep breath, and stares levelly at Subedar.

“I want you to know that you have nothing to be sorry for.” Becoming anxious, Norton can’t help but avert his eyes away slightly from Subedar’s piercing and stunned gaze. “Please don’t avoid me anymore. I’m sorry it’s made things like this. If you want, we can just pretend-“

“Norton.”

Naib’s quiet and hesitant voice prompts Norton to look back at him. He sees Subedar hesitantly reach a hand out to him, into that charged space between them. He tugs on Norton’s glove, and Norton doesn’t resist his pull.

He twists their hands around to interlock their fingers together. When Norton looks up, he realises Subedar has gone completely red in the face. Beneath his hood, he’s pretty sure he sees the tips of his ears go red too.

The moment becomes so tender, almost too tender. Norton almost wants to cry.

I love him. I love him. I love him.

“Let’s...” Subedar swallows and stares at their linked hands in a sort of hesitant wonder. Norton’s heart sings. “After the match... let’s talk. Okay?”

Norton squeezes his hand, and revels in its warmth. He knows he doesn’t deserve this warmth. It’s too gentle, too good to be true. It’s something a person like him should never be able to grasp in his hands like this. He should pull away now, before Subedar can get closer, before Subedar can see all the rot and sin behind him. Before he realises just how horrible and wretched Norton truly is.

But he can’t. He doesn’t want to.

Norton has always been a greedy guy.

“Okay... after the match, yeah.”

And he wants this. He wants it so bad it hurts.

They hesitate for a moment, neither wanting to pull away, until Subedar steps back and their fingers fall apart. Norton misses his warmth immediately.

Subedar turns away and starts to walk to the preparation room, looking at Norton over his shoulder. He’s managed to school his expression back into something more blank, but his face is still red and overheated, not masking anything.

God… I love him.

“Come on. We’ve still got a game to survive.”

Norton walks after him, hoping the smile he can’t suppress doesn’t make him look like a total madman.

“Of course.”

He can’t help but look forward to the end of the match.

***

“Honestly, I’m surprised sweetie.” The satisfying sound of the bottle opening under Demi’s deft fingers reaches Naib’s ears. “I know I roped you into helping me, but I didn’t expect you to agree to drink with me, too.”

“Yeah.” Naib holds out his glass and watches her pour the whiskey cleanly into it. “If I’m being honest… I’m not sure why I’m still here either.”

He honestly doesn’t.

It had started off this morning, when he realised the absence of his name on the roster on a day where he’d desperately wanted to get out there and just drown himself in the feeling of being out in the field.

But of course the manor would never take pity on him.

(He doesn’t deserve it anyway.)

His salvation only came later in the day when, while he was staring blankly at Campbell, Demi barged loudly into the room and pointed a finger straight into his face.

“Sorry, Norton. I’m borrowing your bodyguard for the day.”

“What?”

“Come on. Emily can take care of things here. You’re helping me today, sweetie.”

And so lo and behold, Naib got roped into moving a large amount of alcohol from the cellar into the parlour.

(A week before, on a day they didn’t have a game, Ellis and Alonso had discovered a locked door at the back of the manor near the laundry. Against better judgement, Ellis managed to pry the door open with a crowbar. Unfortunately, they did not find an exit out of the manor. Instead, they found a dusty old cellar that looked like it hadn’t seen the light of day in over a century.

And also alcohol.

A lot of alcohol.)

The parlour is a quaint area in the manor where the more social survivors tend to spend a lot of time. That is to say, not many people spend a lot of time here.

There are several square tables scattered throughout, on one of them a pack of cards no one bothered packing up. A few lounges line the side of the room, as well as a large cupboard, holding all types of board games from all over the world within, as well as countless decks of cards.

In one corner there is a bar. When Naib had arrived at the manor, it had been completely empty save for the cobwebs lining the shelves. All the alcohol in the manor had been found in the kitchen, and though the selection was limited, some magical force must have been constantly replenishing it for the survivors had never found themselves short.

But now, with Demi in the manor, the little bar in the parlour has sprung to life. Survivors gather here at night (and day) quite often to drink away their woes, as well to as watch Demi create beautiful and wild cocktails with her skilled hands. Naib can only imagine how much more creative she’s about to get with this new supply of alcohol.

And maybe it was this warm atmosphere that had made Naib sit down on the high stool next to Demi when she showed him his favourite bottle of whiskey. Or maybe it’s the promise of letting the alcohol seep into his veins and make the near constant anxiety under his skin maybe melt away for just a little while.

The image of Campbell’s still form passes through his mind on occasion, but he manages to push it down somewhat. The doctor is there by his side, and she is much more useful to him in the event of an emergency than Naib would ever be.

(Useless. Useless. Useless. Useless. Useless.)

He takes a big swig from his glass.

He and Demi sit together, the sun long gone and the parlour empty, on the stools of the bar counter. Demi herself is enjoying a bottle of her own Dovlin, saying she is trying out a new mixture, while Naib is on his third glass of whiskey.

They sit in mostly silence, which slightly concerns Naib. He’s drunk with Demi several times before, and it was anything but a quiet affair.

The residents had started calling her the manor’s official “Drinking Buddy”. They say if you feel like getting wasted, you may as well do it with Demi.

Just be ready to share your demons with her.

Naib wonders if there’s a single secret in this manor she doesn’t know. Something about her warmth and the alcohol could make even the most closed off person want to spill their heart to her. It’d happened to even Naib, one cold December morning.

(“Their screams… Bourbon, I can still hear them. They were- They were so young Bourbon. So young.”

At that, Bourbon simply refills his glass. And Naib gratefully downs it.

“You were a soldier, sweetie. Did you have much of a choice?”

Naib laughs at that.

“I could’ve walked away, couldn’t I?”

She looks at him sadly.

“But could you have? Could you really have?”

Naib doesn’t answer. He just holds his empty glass out again.)

Naib’s pretty sure the only people she hasn’t gotten to are Alonso and Carl, the former refusing to drink, and the latter, seemingly unable to get drunk.

It’s because of this reputation of hers that he expects the question she asks next. He wonders if she’d been holding out all day to say it. Or if maybe she’s been wanting to ask him since two weeks ago, when Naib had carried a half dead Campbell into the infirmary.

Or maybe, she’d been wanting to ask him for much longer than that.

“You love him don’t you, sweetie?”

Still he can’t help but shiver at her question, his body almost going into a state of fight or flight. He stares down at the liquid in his cup.

“What are you talking about?”

He can see Demi frown from his periphery.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about, sweetie.” She sips from her glass of wine. “I’m not going to force you to talk about him if you don’t want to but Naib… darling.”

He feels the warm weight of her hand gently grasp his upper arm.

“We’re worried about you. You’re slipping away, they can all see it. I can see it.” Her grip tightens slightly, but it’s not with the goal of being painful. It’s reassurance, a promise to be there for him, if he needed it. “Maybe there’s no way we can help you, but bottling it all up and pretending you’re fine… that’s not helping you either.”

Naib wants to walk away, to go back to Campbell’s side and check his pulse and read another book to his still form. He wants to run away from Demi’s worried gaze searing into the side of his face, wants to run away from the uncomfortable truth that runs through his veins.

But more than any of that, he wants to run away from the prospect of Campbell never waking up again. And maybe that’s what breaks him.

He lets his head hang and he closes his eyes.

“You’re right.”

“Huh?”

The sadness and anxiety that constantly sit under his skin finally boil over, and Naib can’t stop them from spilling out.

Maybe he has bottled it all up for too long.

“You’re right… I do. But I can’t say it, Demi. I can’t say it out loud because…” Naib can’t help but shake. His voice is almost a whisper when he speaks again. “I was going to tell him you know… after that match. I was going to tell him how much he means to me. I was going to kiss him stupid and tell him how much I love his stupid hair, and his stupid face, and those stupid eyes of his…”

He chokes on his next words.

“And then he just… fuck the idiot, the asshole, why did he do that Demi, why? H-he should’ve just-! He should’ve-“

“Breathe Naib. Breathe.”

Her hand is running soothing circles into his back as Naib tries to even out his breathing.

God it hurts.

It hurts so much.

“Demi, it’s my fault… it’s all my fucking fault.”

“No it wasn’t-“

“It should’ve been me.” Naib brings a hand to his face. His eyes sting. “I should be in that bed. It should have never been him, Demi. Never.”

His tears still don’t spill over.

It should have been me.

Naib can’t help but start to recall that day, that accursed match that took Campbell from him.

“Come on. We’ve still got a game to survive.”

As he looks back, he wonders if Campbell knows how beautiful the smile he shows him is.

Naib misses his smile.

“Of course.”

Naib misses him so much.

***

An everlasting scent of antiseptic clings to the ruined hospital.

Why is this happening?

“Subedar! Hurry!”

How did this happen?

Subedar’s so close now. Reznik’s already left, and Kreiss and Norton are waiting for him at the exit gate. They can make this a four man. They can! They have to.

Shit…!

Subedar screams out to them.

“Idiots! Don’t wait for me!”

Subedar is holding his side. He’s bleeding and limping badly as he runs. His elbow pads are long gone. Norton’s terrified. His heart’s seizing up. This can’t be happening. This shouldn’t be happening.

He’s not going to make it.

Subedar screams out to them again.

“Leave!!! Right now!!!”

Norton bites his bottom lip so hard it draws blood.

The hunters have always been a thing none of the survivors really understood. They were terrifying, but they hardly ever played the game with the intent to kill. They’d toy with the survivors, hurting them and laughing about it, but it would only ever result in someone being incapacitated. In fact, they seemed to almost hold themselves back from killing them. No matter how blood thirsty their gaze, they had only killed maybe four survivors in the entire time Norton’s been in the manor.

But today might change that tally.

The drill in Smiley Face’s hand is covered in blood. He’s not trying to incapacitate Naib.

He’s trying to kill him.

***

Why is this happening?

Naib can’t help but think that as he feels Smiley’s blood thirsty presence behind him.

He was supposed to talk to Campbell after this match. He was supposed to go to him, and finally free all the feelings that have pent up in his chest. Maybe kiss him and finally know that “Yes, this is real. This is something I can have. This is something he wants too.”

But he should’ve known better.

Smiley Face wants him dead. Smiley Face will kill him.

“Come back, Mr. Mercenary~! There’s nowhere to run~!” He hears the sound of the drill. Smiley’s getting closer. “I got permission today, you know~! I’ve been waiting for so long, and finally they told me I could~! So let’s have a little fun together before the curtain falls, okay~!”

Naib can’t make it. He knows he can’t. He’s about to die. There’s nothing he can do about it.

Up ahead, Campbell looks on in horror. Naib tries to smile, tries to reassure him. He hopes it doesn’t look as pained as he feels it is.

I’m sorry, Campbell.

He wishes he had more time. He wishes he’d been able to kiss Campbell earlier and find out what it’s like to have his arms around him. There’s so much he hasn’t asked him yet, too. About the scars on his body. His fear of the dark. The people he wants to ask for forgiveness from.

(He hasn’t gotten to ask him why he wants to kiss Naib, of all people.)

But there’s no time anymore. Maybe there never could have been.

I just wish I could’ve told him “I love you”.

***

No!

This can’t be happening.

He and Naib… they were supposed to talk, right?

They were supposed to sort out whatever the hell this is that’s happening between them. They were supposed to kiss and make up or whatever it is that happens in love stories, right? Right?

But life would never let Norton have something like that.

There could only ever be one conclusion for him. There should have only ever been one conclusion for him, back there, in that mine, with the rest of them.

If this is karma, it’s worse than he could have ever imagined.

Naib’s coming closer. He’s trying his best to reach the gate, but they all know it’s in vain. Yet, when Norton looks at him, it’s not fear on his face.

Naib… why are you smiling like that?

He’s smiling at Norton, like he’s satisfied. Like everything’s okay like this. It’s one of the cruellest smiles Norton’s ever seen.

Naib… you’re going to die.

Naib’s going to die and Norton will never see him smile again. He’ll never get to hear Naib laugh, or yell, or cuss him out for something dumb he did or didn’t do again.

He’ll never feel his warmth again.

Because Naib will be gone. And he’ll never be back.

No. He can’t be.

Kreiss makes a startled sound behind him as Norton moves.

“C-Campbell…?”

He steps out of the exit gate.

I won’t let him.

Norton has an idea. It’s a stupid idea, he knows it is. Naib will hate him for it, but it’s the only choice he has.

He braces himself, and it should be harder than this to work up the courage. But it’s not. He’s ready.

To have kissed Naib at all… He thinks. I guess… that’ll have to be enough for me.

(No. It’s not enough. It can’t be enough. Norton wishes he had more time. He wishes he had more of him.

But life is just cruel like that.)

He looks at the distance between the two of them. Subedar’s close enough. He can do this.

I can make it.

He won’t let Naib die.

Kreiss yells something at him. But he doesn’t hear it. Norton has no other thoughts before he runs away from the exit gate.

***

Just as he hears Smiley Face prepare a charged attack that he can’t avoid. Kreiss’s voice reaches his ears. He’s screaming.

“C-Campbell?! A-are you insane!?”

Campbell?

Naib sees a blur rush past him. Something pushes him and he falls to the ground, out of the way of Smiley’s drill.

It still hits something, though. But it’s not Naib. He looks up.

***

The modified drill hurts. It feels like someone’s torn Norton in half. He feels like his entire being’s been reduced to nothing but pain. Scorching searing pain.

He coughs and blood spills from his mouth.

But Naib is okay. Naib is okay.

And that’s all that matters.

***

Naib stares at Norton’s face, open-mouthed in a silent scream. There’s blood pouring out of his side, in an endless stream. Naib is frozen still.

“N-Norton…”

It’s a scene out of a nightmare.

***

Norton wants to fall on to the ground. His legs can barely keep him standing anymore. His body is about to give out on him. But he doesn’t fall yet.

Naib is still in danger.

“N-Naib...!” He yells as loud as he can manage. “H-hurry-! He’s almost recovered!”

But Naib stays stock still. He’s not moving.

Why isn’t Naib moving?

He can’t just be sitting here, he needs to move.

I have to… protect him.

That was a detention hit. It should have incapacitated Norton. Hell, with the force Smiley hit him with, he should be dead. But his body refuses to give out. He can’t go down yet.

Naib isn’t safe yet. Naib isn’t out of danger.

Naib…

So, against all odds, he keeps moving.

***

Norton should have gone down. That hit was fatal. He should have gone down.

Naib’s brain can’t process what’s happening in front of him. He’s in shock. He’s afraid.

Norton should be dead right? Why is he-? Why is Naib-?

Someone hefts him up by his arm off the ground. It’s Norton.

“You i-idiot!” Norton barks at Naib. His voice comes out hoarse, like speaking physically hurts him. “S-snap out of it! We have to run!”

Still in a state of shock, Naib lets Norton drag him to the gate in a stupor. They step through its threshold.

Naib should be dead. Norton should be dead.

“Kreiss! Out! Now!”

Somewhere behind him, he hears the loud, angry grunting of the hunter as the inside of the gate disintegrates around them.

***

They make it into the preparation room. It’s a fucking miracle but all three of them make it.

Thank god.

The adrenaline seeps out of Norton, and he feels all the pain which he’d managed to block out come back to him. The ground below him is covered in blood.

But when he looks to his side, Naib is still there, still staring at him in shock. Still alive.

Thank god… he’s alright.

He hears Kreiss yell nearby.

“Th-those wounds-! Campbell-!”

But Norton can barely hear him. He walks closer to Naib.

***

They’re in the preparation room. Naib is pretty sure they’re in the preparation room.

Norton is walking closer to him, but… he’s walking funny. And he’s covered in blood. He’s covered in so much blood…

Norton took a detention hit for Naib. Norton took a fucking detention hit for him.

But he’s still standing. There’s no fucking way he should still be standing.

Oh fuck…

Naib runs to meet Norton halfway.

***

Finally, those piercing eyes of Naib’s seem to awaken from their daze. He’s furious, his expression looking like it could topple mountains. But more than anything, he looks so scared.

He looks terrified.

He grabs Norton by the collar of his shirt.

“Campbell, what the fuck!-!” He shouts. There’s fire in his eyes. “What the hell do you think you’re doing-! You nearly fucking-!”

“N-Naib…”

Norton brings up a bloody hand and cups Naib’s cheek. Crimson stains his face. Norton wants to apologise for it, but there’s no time. God wouldn’t let him have enough time.

But that’s okay. Maybe these few moments will do. Maybe they will be enough.

(No. They can never be enough. Norton wants more than this, so much more than this.

It’s not fair.)

“Naib… I’m sorry…”

***

No.

“Wh-what the fuck are you saying? Shit, never mind. We need to get you to the infirmary!” He tries to force Norton to move, but the man’s hand suddenly drops from Naib’s face, and he becomes a dead weight in his hold. Naib thinks if he wasn’t hanging on to his collar for dear life, the man might just crumble to the floor. “Shit! Kreiss, get the doctor!”

Kreiss runs out of the room right before Campbell slumps completely forward, putting all his weight on Naib.

“C-Campbell! Hey, Campbell!” He tries to force the man to stand, moving his arms around him to hold him up. “C-come on-! You can’t sleep here, we need to get you-!”

“Naib…” Campbell’s arm weakly wraps around him.

***

Naib is warm. Naib is so warm.

But Naib is shaking. Naib is shaking uncontrollably against Norton like it’s negative ten degrees Celsius all around them. And maybe it is. Norton honestly can’t really tell anymore. The world around him is growing dimmer and number by the second.

Still, he revels in the safety of Naib’s embrace, in the fact that at least he will be okay. That he will live to see another day. That he might one day leave this manor, and live a good life, like he deserves.

He desperately wishes that he will.

“I hope… you live well, Naib… I’m sorry…”

And maybe it’s cruel of him to say it now, with how everything has turned out. But Norton can’t stop himself. Death, it seems, can’t help but make you honest. He feels the last of his strength leave him, but the words still manage to leave his lips. And saying them out loud, after all this time, makes Norton feel so happy.

“I love you, Naib.”

He just wishes he didn’t have to crush Naib by saying it.

Finally, after all these years, the world truly goes dark.

***

Naib’s world stops. It feels like someone’s just ripped the floor away from under him. He’s free falling, yet somehow standing still at the same time. Panic builds in his chest.

The world starts collapsing around him.

“N-Norton…”

But there is no reply.

“H-hey… come on you asshole… you can’t just say that a-and pass out on me…” Naib’s knees buckle, and suddenly he’s on the floor, Norton held tightly in his arms. “C-come on… The doctor’s going to get here a-and be mad at you for passing out while you’re bleeding like this… Hey… Norton…”

Naib gets one hand around one of Norton’s wrist.

At first he felt nothing.

“No… no…”

And it was all over, there was nothing left. Norton had left Naib. He’d up and gone just like that. He never even let him say goodbye. He never even let him say those words back to him.

Norton was gone just like that.

“No, please… not yet…” He brought Norton closer, and chased the warmth in his body. Praying. Hoping. “Please… Norton…”

He presses his face into Norton’s shoulder. He tries to feel his pulse, just one more time.

“Don’t leave me…”

But then, it was there. Faint, so faint, but unmistakable and real.

“No fucking way…”

Ba…dum.

Norton was still alive.

***

The doctor had told him he needed to look after himself.

Her efforts combined with Demi’s managed to stabilise Norton, but they were not sure it was enough. Norton was hanging out in limbo, where no one was sure if he was more likely to wake up, or more likely to die.

The first two days, Naib had refused to leave his side. He didn’t eat, he didn’t sleep. He simply watched the rising and falling of his chest, waiting. He’d had to play in a game on the second day, and ended up nearly passing out right in the middle of the match. First Officer Baden had to carry him off the game grounds.

Naib couldn’t stay like that.

“Eat breakfast, lunch, dinner, and go to sleep at a reasonable hour. Whatever else you do in the day doesn’t matter.” Dr. Dyer had said this to him sternly. “Just try to do those four things for me. If you can manage that, Mr. Subedar, you can spend the rest of your time in the infirmary. I won’t mind it. You may even eat in here, if you wish. But I just can’t allow you to continue acting like this. What’ll I tell Mr. Campbell if I let something like this kill you?”

And so he’d established his routine, fuelled by the doctor’s threat of closing off his infirmary access, and some of Norton’s final words to him.

“I hope… you live well.”

That was what Norton had told him that day.

It became the number one thing driving Naib day after day. The one thing that stopped him from completely losing himself as the chance of Norton waking up seemed to only lessen and lessen.

Naib followed his words. Naib would continue to follow his words.

Until Norton woke up. Even after he woke up.

(Even if he doesn’t.)

Naib needed to live well. Because that’s what Norton wanted of him.

He takes another swig of his whiskey.

I need to live well.

“Demi...” Naib drags a hand along his face. “If he actually doesn’t wake up-“

“He will wake up-“

“But if he doesn’t.” Naib hates how his voice shakes. He hates it so much. He covers his eyes with a hand, but still doesn’t cry. “If he doesn’t… what am I supposed to do? What am I going to do Demi?”

A gentle weight settles around his other hand. When he looks, he finds Demi has reached out, and is holding his hand softly in her grasp. She’s looking at him with a serious expression.

“I can’t tell you what you should do, darling. It’s all up to you to decide in the end. But Naib, dear, no matter what-“ She holds his hand tighter and leans in closer to him, letting her other hand run soothing circles into his back. “Please let us help you. Let us be here for you. You don’t have to shoulder everything by yourself.”

Naib’s eyes burn. He wants to cry, he really does, but the tears are stuck, clogged and unable to free themselves. He can only look miserably at Demi, letting her warmth spread through him.

He’s been trying to bottle it all up from the others for so long, not letting them linger on conversations about Norton, not letting them see just how much he’s suffering, not letting them see just how badly he wants to trade places with him.

But just now, just here, he lets Demi see. He lowers his defences, letting the alcohol unwind his nerves, and lets his sadness show plainly.

Because god, he misses Norton.

He misses him so much.

***

“Morning, asshole. Guess what? It’s beans and toast today. Again.”

…

…

“God, today’s game was rubbish. All of us. Down. With four ciphers left. Four ciphers! Can you believe it? It was insane. The Violinist is terrifying.”

…

…

“I don’t know how he does it, but Mike’s cooking is still out of this world. What the hell do they teach in the circus?”

…

…

“Kreiss, you can come sit down, you know. You don’t have to- Ah. There he goes again. Wonder if he’ll ever actually make it past the door…”

…

…

“So my friend, Red we called him, he said he could talk to birds, right? And we all told him that was bullshit of course. But then down comes this eagle - a literal eagle! - and sits on his arm! Thought I’d finally lost my mind, you know.”

…

…

“Hopefully he’s not our hunter today, or else I’m almost a hundred percent sure Mike’s doomed. Though maybe it’ll be a good thing. If he tunnels Mike out of anger there’s a good chance we can get everyone out.”

…

…

“”Well! I’ve often seen a cat without a grin,” thought Alice; “but a grin without a cat! It’s the most curious thing I ever saw in all my life!” Haha. Yeah, I guess that is a pretty curious thing, huh? Though to be honest, I think Alice has seen at least a hundred more things curious than that today…”

…

…

“Hey… Norton…

I miss you.”

…

…

Norton wakes up.

***

Surprisingly, that day’s match had gone better than most matches Naib had participated in in weeks.

It was a four man escape in which Balsa had ended up being chased by the hunter almost the whole match. Gamekeeper had only managed to chair him once the entire game, and at the very end, when he’d tried teleporting to their open gate, they’d all managed to get out, Balsa taking the dungeon which had appeared near the graveyard in the Red Church.

Naib couldn’t help but be extremely happy at the results.

“Luca! You’re a legend! That was incredible!” Ellis had a hand around Balsa’s shoulder as he congratulated him. “Drinks on me tonight!”

“Hehehe.” He’s twitchy as usual, with the same manic smile he almost always has on, but Naib can see the obvious pride in his expression anyway. “You say that as if there’s anything we have to pay for in this manor, Mr. Ellis.”

“He’s right, though.” Naib can’t help but clap him on the back. “Nice going, Balsa. You carried us that game.”

Balsa smiles at him, and Naib can’t help but smile back.

It feels like one of his good days. Or at least definitely a day better than most others. He can’t wait to tell Campbell about the match. He’s also gotten a new book from Kurt to read. Moby-Dick. Apparently it’s about a whale? He’s excited to give it a read.

Yeah… maybe… today is a good day.

He’s walking back to the infirmary now, with Ellis and Balsa not far behind him, needing to get some of their injuries checked. It seems that Zelle had already taken off. They’ll probably see her in the infirmary too, though. He knows she had ended up a bit injured when Gamekeeper had caught her at the gate with his teleport, though her music box had helped her get away in time.

Ellis and Balsa continue talking about the game while Naib quietly listens, enjoying their idle chatter.

“The adrenaline boost after the cipher was finished and the nearby window made me basically fly away from Gamekeeper. There really wasn’t much he could by the time he recovered.”

“Wow! Seriously, good job Luca!”

“I wouldn’t have lasted nearly as long without your mid game stun though, Mr. Ellis.”

“Hehe, nah. It wasn’t-“

“Mr. Subedar!!!”

A voice calls out to them from up ahead.

Zelle is running towards them, with a seemingly frantic and distressed expression on her face. She’d just come out of the infirmary.

Naib’s blood runs cold.

No.

She stops in front of them, head down, hands on her knees, panting.

It can’t be…

“Maggie!? What’s wrong!?“ With Naib frozen stiff, it’s Ellis that steps forwards and grabs her by the shoulders. “Did something happen to-!?”

“He’s awake.”

Everything around Naib freezes.

“Wh-“ He can’t believe his ears. “Wh-what did you say, Zelle?”

She looks up at Naib. Naib doesn’t know her very well, but she’d always seemed like a bit of a melancholy person to Naib, shrouded in secrets, trying to not let others look at her for too long. Like she’s afraid they’ll figure her out, or get too close.

She’s smiling up at Naib now, no melancholy, no pretences. Just genuine, unadulterated joy.

“He’s okay, Mr. Subedar. Mr. Campbell is awake.”

He sprints away in a heartbeat.

People call out to him, but Naib can hardly hear.

He rushes past all of them, through the main hall, down the corridor. It’s the same route he’s taken nearly everyday for the past two weeks. The same route he would’ve continued to take for as long as he needed.

The same route that leads him to the most important person in his life.

He slams the door into the infirmary open way too loudly. He feels walls shake, and some furniture even gets knocked around.

But Naib doesn’t care.

Because Campbell is sitting up. He’s sitting up on the bed with a pillow supporting his back, and looking over at Naib.

He looks startled, but he’s awake. He’s alive.

He’s alive.

The doctor and Dorval are in the room as well, but Naib hardly notices them. They might be speaking to him, but everything sounds far away and muddled to Naib’s ears.

All his focus is on Norton.

And Norton’s focus is all on him.

For a moment, everything is still between them. A moment frozen in time, threatening to last forever. Naib wouldn’t even mind if it did, because Norton is here. Norton is alive.

And it’s a fucking miracle.

Just then, Norton’s startled expression melts, shattering the stillness. He smiles softly at Naib, and finally speaks.

His voice, the voice that had almost faded from Naib’s memory, is drowsy and croaky from lack of use, but Naib thinks he wouldn’t mind if it’s the only sound he’d ever be able to hear for the rest of his life.

He hopes it’s a sound he can hear every day, for the rest of his life.

“Hey Subedar… good morning.”

Naib finally breaks.

He runs through the threshold and without thinking, wraps his arms around Norton on the bed.

“Woah, woah! Easy… I’m a patient you know…”

He sounds slightly winded, but Naib can’t let him go. Can’t even loosen his hold. His whole body shakes and his arms feel so weak that he’s sure if he lets go of Norton he might crumble away completely.

And that’s when the first sob finally breaks through him.

He buries his face into Norton’s shoulder, and breathes through the scent of soap, medicine, and antiseptic to the smell that can only be Norton.

Norton, who’s warm and breathing and alive.

When his arms wrap around him, Naib can’t help but absolutely melt into his embrace, basking in the unimaginable warmth and steadiness it provides. The promise these arms might always be there to hold him.

The promise they might be there forever now.

Norton whispers gently into his ear.

“It’s okay, Naib…” His hand rubs the back of Naib’s neck. His voice sounds watery. “I’m here now. I’m sorry. I won’t leave you again.”

Naib’s sobbing fully now, unabashedly and painfully into Norton’s shoulder. He vaguely registers a door closing behind him, and under any other circumstances he’d scold himself for his inattention to his surroundings. But right now, nothing else matters.

Nothing but Norton’s warm body, safely in his arms.

Ba-dum. Ba-dum.

He’s alive.

“Y-you bastard…! You fucking bastard!” He curses at Norton even as he tightens his hold on him. “I can’t believe you! You’re such an idiot! W-why!? Why did you do that you-! You-!” Another wave of sobs assaults his body and he burrows his face further into Norton’s shoulder.

Naib doesn’t even know if he’s ever cried like this before. He doesn’t care. Nothing except Norton matters in this moment. Nothing but his warm body.

Ba-dum. Ba-dum.

And steadily beating heart.

“Oh, Naib…” Norton pulls down Naib’s hood gently and gets a hand in his hair, softly undoing his ponytail and brushing his fingers through his locks. “You know why I did it. You know there was no other way.”

“B-but you nearly fucking-!” Naib tightens his hold on Norton even more. “You nearly-!”

“Shh… Breathe Naib. Breathe. It’s alright.”

Naib took a deep breath, but it wouldn’t calm his tears. All he could do was let them endlessly seep into Norton’s robes.

“You were already injured Naib. That hit would’ve killed you for sure. At least there was a chance I could’ve survived, but there was no way you would have. You know this.”

“Th-there was no chance…!” Naib lets his voice fall to a whisper. “Y-you should have died Norton! You should be dead…!”

“But I’m not.” The hand in Naib’s hair continues to gently run through his locks, and the fingers kneed into his scalp. It’s so good. So gentle. It was everything Naib didn’t know he was craving. “I’m not dead, Naib. I didn’t leave you.

I would never.”

At that, Naib pulled away from the embrace slightly. He sits up and stares Norton straight in the face, tears still falling almost endlessly from his eyes.

He looks slightly haggard. His cheeks had sunken in a bit due to the lack of nutrition, and his eyes looked tired and weary, despite having just spent weeks doing basically nothing but resting.

There’s tears in the corner of his eyes, threatening to spill over, but he’s smiling. Warmly. Happily.

He looks so beautiful.

Naib cups his face and runs his thumb across his cheek, just below his scar. And Norton closes his eyes and leans into his touch.

It’s everything Naib had wanted.

“Can I kiss you, Norton?”

Norton opens his eyes and looks up almost cheekily. It’s so endearing that Naib’s heart melts. He’s missed him so much.

“I have about two weeks’ worth of morning breath, Naib. Maybe wouldn’t recommend it.”

Naib has to laugh at that, even if the sound comes out choked and almost wrecked.

“They’ve been brushing your teeth, dumbass. You think they want you to get a cavity or something?”

And Norton laughs too.

“Then I would love it if you kissed me, Naib.”

So that’s what he does.

He kisses Norton, and it’s so perfect. It’s so soft and warm, and Naib wants to drown in the feeling of it.

Wants to drown in Norton forever.

When he pulls away, he’s still cupping Norton’s face. He lets his fingers travel up slightly, and he’s smoothing the ridges of Norton’s scar. Norton shivers against him, but doesn’t pull away. In fact, he nuzzles in closer.

And Naib loves him.

He loves him so much.

“I love you, Norton.”

He’s not afraid to say it anymore.

***

Norton looks at the man in front of him. The beautiful, beautiful man.

He remembers, in that never-ending darkness, the voice that was always by his side. The voice that was always there for him, keeping him in the world, guiding him through the dark.

“Whatever. I’ll wait for you, dumbass.”

And Naib had. Naib waited for him, all this time.

Norton still doesn’t think he deserves Naib. He doesn’t deserve all the love and kindness he showers Norton in. He doesn’t deserve to be the one that Naib waits on by the bedside, constantly afraid of whether or not he’s breathed his last or not.

But Naib wants him. Naib wants him, and Naib will wait for him, no matter what.

They have time now, after all. Maybe Norton’s allowed to be greedy.

So he swallows up Naib’s confession. He swallows it up whole like it’s the best dessert he’s ever been given (because it is) and pulls Naib closer to himself, his body a warm and comfortable weight on him.

And Norton loves him. So, so much.

“Yeah… I love you too, Naib.”