(no subject)
The Last Mile.
Rating, bad words.
Disclaimer, this is a work of fiction, no disrespect is intended.
No pairing, it's Dany and Mark Heatley.
Mark's POV
"Can't sleep?"
It's dim in here, but my eyes have adjusted enough to see Dany is lying on the bed facing the wall. He shakes his head. It's still a bit awkward for him, talking around the broken jaw. Besides I didn't think he really knows what to say.
"Wanna be alone?"
It’s finally still in here. Everyone has left for the evening. Mum insisted she would stay if Dan wanted her to, but Dad took one look at Dany's drooping eyelids and dragged her to the hotel for the evening. I was going to go with them, but then I said I would stay. I don't know what made me decide I had to do that, mostly because I would want him here if it were me.
Dany shakes his head again. There are the soft hospital noises around us that I have learned to identify. Doors are opening and closing, voices getting softer and louder and softer again as they go past his door.
"Can I come over?"
Dany nods. When I stand by the bed I can see he is taking deep breaths, holding it for ages. But he is blowing his breath out shakily. He is trying to calm himself down. I don't know if he can, I don't know if he should. He shakes again when I drop my hand on his shoulder.
In this hospital he doesn't have to wear one of those stupid gowns, he is wearing a black t-shirt and probably boxers, but I can't see.
"Do you want to talk?" Dany finally rolls over and looks at me. He shakes his head; he opens his mouth, but just winces and shakes his head again.
I sit on the side of the bed and just look at him. He's too tired to have his defenses up.He's changed, he had started to before the crash anyway. There was this barrier up between him and everyone else. I know why, just because with people all around him, wanting something, he was trying to keep himself separate from the world, keep part of himself private.
He kept it up around me as well; we were not as close as we once were. And since that day, he's had, not exactly a brave face, but a blank mask that he has presented to everyone. Well it's cracking; his eyes are bright blue, shining in the dark room.
His eyes fill with tears and I watch as they finally spill over the sides. His eyes turn foggy grey as the tears pour out, down his face and into his hair.
He rolls onto his side, looking down at the pillow, wincing as his jaw touches the side of the bed. He doesn't stop crying, the tears are a steady stream across the bridge of his nose, across his cheek, and onto the pillow. I watch them, trickling down, trying not to look in Dany's eyes as he tries not to look at me.
I sit on the side of the bed, I start to wipe the tears away, but they are coming to quickly, so I just stroke his cheek lightly. Mum used to do this, when we were kids if we were upset. I wonder if Dany remembers? He doesn’t pull away as I run my fingers down his cheek bone and across the scratchy skin of his jaw where he has not shaved for a couple of days. The tears still drip off his face and fall into the pillow.
"I'm sorry." I say and watch him shrug.
"My knee is fucked." He mumbles around his jaw. "Totally fucked."
"I'm…"
"Shhh" Dany slurs out. He holds my hand against his cheek. "Shhh." He repeats rolling onto his back and holding my hand in his fingers, stroking the back of my hand. I can feel him swallow and the tears trickle between my fingers and down my wrist.
The tense lines of his face soften, then settle into lines I have never seen before. I've seen him upset, or hurt or sad, but not this, not these lines of grief streaking down his face, not this bleeding loss.
I kick my shoes off, Dany doesn't move at the noise they make hitting the floor. I don't think he even realizes as I climb carefully onto the bed so I can lie down next to him. He stares up at the ceiling, still not making any noise, my hand slides down to his neck and he holds it there, choking on his tears and sniffing softly.
He sighs softly and wipes his face with our joined hands. I awkwardly sit up, not letting his hand go. His eyes don't follow me as I lean over him, he's seeing something much further away, and grab some tissues. I dab at his face as softly as I can, I don't really know where it hurts.
He drops his hand down so it lies on his chest. His breathing is shallow and his heart is pounding.
"We weren't far from my place." He mumbles. I freeze for a second. "Nearly home." He says his voice raspy.
"I know." I lie down next to him again and he rolls over to face me again. He's still holding our hands against his chest between us.
"You will go home soon." I finally say.
"Limping." Dany replies.
He looks at me. Really looks at me for the first time in a long time. Swimming under the tears and sorrow is rage. I lean back, I didn't expect that.
"But Dan might never go home." He whispers harshly, squeezing our fingers together so hard I can feel the bones grinding together. "He might never leave here."
"He will." I pull my hand free and climb under the covers with Dany. We haven't slept in the same bed for years, not since Christmas decades ago when we couldn't sleep waiting for Santa.
"It's my fault." He says when settle down. I breathe out slowly and move closer to him.
"Yeah I know." I put my arm around his waist trying not to touch his shoulder. "He'll be ok, soon, you'll see, you have to…"
"Don't tell me to be positive." He spits out, closing his eyes briefly as he moves his jaw too much. "I can't do that."
"Have faith." I finish. His arm is lying on my side and I twist around so is slides over my back. Dany settles against my neck, his arm over my waist. He is full of drugs and hospital drips and tears, and I can feel the scratchy bandage on his elbow where they took blood pressing against my skin as he slides his hand under my shirt to rest against my back.
"I love you." I say against the skin of his forehead kissing him there gently. When I kiss his cheek the skin feels hot and swollen under my lips. "You have to forgive yourself." I whisper quickly.
"I love you to." We both breathe quietly and Dany starts to cry again. "I can't." he whispers.
"You will."
"We were nearly home. Back at my place." I nod but he keeps talking.
"All I want is to go home." Dany mumbles. "I want this to have never happened and to be home in Calgary." I rub his back through his t-shirt, not sure what to do. Dany comforts me, when I screw up, when I am worried about the future. His has always been planned out; he always knew what he was going to do.
"Go to sleep." I whisper. I cuddle closer to him; he's shaking in his sleep, crying again, not from being cold. I hook my foot over his ankle, being careful not to touch his knee, although I suppose it does not matter now. We are curled together as close as we can be without me hurting him.
"We're nearly there." I say softly. "The longest part of the journey is the last mile home."
Rating, bad words.
Disclaimer, this is a work of fiction, no disrespect is intended.
No pairing, it's Dany and Mark Heatley.
Mark's POV
"Can't sleep?"
It's dim in here, but my eyes have adjusted enough to see Dany is lying on the bed facing the wall. He shakes his head. It's still a bit awkward for him, talking around the broken jaw. Besides I didn't think he really knows what to say.
"Wanna be alone?"
It’s finally still in here. Everyone has left for the evening. Mum insisted she would stay if Dan wanted her to, but Dad took one look at Dany's drooping eyelids and dragged her to the hotel for the evening. I was going to go with them, but then I said I would stay. I don't know what made me decide I had to do that, mostly because I would want him here if it were me.
Dany shakes his head again. There are the soft hospital noises around us that I have learned to identify. Doors are opening and closing, voices getting softer and louder and softer again as they go past his door.
"Can I come over?"
Dany nods. When I stand by the bed I can see he is taking deep breaths, holding it for ages. But he is blowing his breath out shakily. He is trying to calm himself down. I don't know if he can, I don't know if he should. He shakes again when I drop my hand on his shoulder.
In this hospital he doesn't have to wear one of those stupid gowns, he is wearing a black t-shirt and probably boxers, but I can't see.
"Do you want to talk?" Dany finally rolls over and looks at me. He shakes his head; he opens his mouth, but just winces and shakes his head again.
I sit on the side of the bed and just look at him. He's too tired to have his defenses up.He's changed, he had started to before the crash anyway. There was this barrier up between him and everyone else. I know why, just because with people all around him, wanting something, he was trying to keep himself separate from the world, keep part of himself private.
He kept it up around me as well; we were not as close as we once were. And since that day, he's had, not exactly a brave face, but a blank mask that he has presented to everyone. Well it's cracking; his eyes are bright blue, shining in the dark room.
His eyes fill with tears and I watch as they finally spill over the sides. His eyes turn foggy grey as the tears pour out, down his face and into his hair.
He rolls onto his side, looking down at the pillow, wincing as his jaw touches the side of the bed. He doesn't stop crying, the tears are a steady stream across the bridge of his nose, across his cheek, and onto the pillow. I watch them, trickling down, trying not to look in Dany's eyes as he tries not to look at me.
I sit on the side of the bed, I start to wipe the tears away, but they are coming to quickly, so I just stroke his cheek lightly. Mum used to do this, when we were kids if we were upset. I wonder if Dany remembers? He doesn’t pull away as I run my fingers down his cheek bone and across the scratchy skin of his jaw where he has not shaved for a couple of days. The tears still drip off his face and fall into the pillow.
"I'm sorry." I say and watch him shrug.
"My knee is fucked." He mumbles around his jaw. "Totally fucked."
"I'm…"
"Shhh" Dany slurs out. He holds my hand against his cheek. "Shhh." He repeats rolling onto his back and holding my hand in his fingers, stroking the back of my hand. I can feel him swallow and the tears trickle between my fingers and down my wrist.
The tense lines of his face soften, then settle into lines I have never seen before. I've seen him upset, or hurt or sad, but not this, not these lines of grief streaking down his face, not this bleeding loss.
I kick my shoes off, Dany doesn't move at the noise they make hitting the floor. I don't think he even realizes as I climb carefully onto the bed so I can lie down next to him. He stares up at the ceiling, still not making any noise, my hand slides down to his neck and he holds it there, choking on his tears and sniffing softly.
He sighs softly and wipes his face with our joined hands. I awkwardly sit up, not letting his hand go. His eyes don't follow me as I lean over him, he's seeing something much further away, and grab some tissues. I dab at his face as softly as I can, I don't really know where it hurts.
He drops his hand down so it lies on his chest. His breathing is shallow and his heart is pounding.
"We weren't far from my place." He mumbles. I freeze for a second. "Nearly home." He says his voice raspy.
"I know." I lie down next to him again and he rolls over to face me again. He's still holding our hands against his chest between us.
"You will go home soon." I finally say.
"Limping." Dany replies.
He looks at me. Really looks at me for the first time in a long time. Swimming under the tears and sorrow is rage. I lean back, I didn't expect that.
"But Dan might never go home." He whispers harshly, squeezing our fingers together so hard I can feel the bones grinding together. "He might never leave here."
"He will." I pull my hand free and climb under the covers with Dany. We haven't slept in the same bed for years, not since Christmas decades ago when we couldn't sleep waiting for Santa.
"It's my fault." He says when settle down. I breathe out slowly and move closer to him.
"Yeah I know." I put my arm around his waist trying not to touch his shoulder. "He'll be ok, soon, you'll see, you have to…"
"Don't tell me to be positive." He spits out, closing his eyes briefly as he moves his jaw too much. "I can't do that."
"Have faith." I finish. His arm is lying on my side and I twist around so is slides over my back. Dany settles against my neck, his arm over my waist. He is full of drugs and hospital drips and tears, and I can feel the scratchy bandage on his elbow where they took blood pressing against my skin as he slides his hand under my shirt to rest against my back.
"I love you." I say against the skin of his forehead kissing him there gently. When I kiss his cheek the skin feels hot and swollen under my lips. "You have to forgive yourself." I whisper quickly.
"I love you to." We both breathe quietly and Dany starts to cry again. "I can't." he whispers.
"You will."
"We were nearly home. Back at my place." I nod but he keeps talking.
"All I want is to go home." Dany mumbles. "I want this to have never happened and to be home in Calgary." I rub his back through his t-shirt, not sure what to do. Dany comforts me, when I screw up, when I am worried about the future. His has always been planned out; he always knew what he was going to do.
"Go to sleep." I whisper. I cuddle closer to him; he's shaking in his sleep, crying again, not from being cold. I hook my foot over his ankle, being careful not to touch his knee, although I suppose it does not matter now. We are curled together as close as we can be without me hurting him.
"We're nearly there." I say softly. "The longest part of the journey is the last mile home."