God, he sounded okay. Alive– actually talking was a sign that he was alive and he was probably going to be fine. And he was joking, even– maybe he wasn’t even that bad. However, that idea was quickly shot down when he opened his eyes and gave the other a smile.
Jesus Christ, he looked bad. And was– was he missing an arm? God, he was, wasn’t he? Oh god. God, was he still smiling? Nope, it was gone. He also still hadn’t moved– what was he supposed to do? Oh no, oh god. He was gonna have a panic attack and he wasn’t even the one in trouble. Oh fuck.
He forced himself to open the door more, just enough to get himself through it. And he forced himself to walk to Dan’s left side instead of the right– he didn’t want to have to reach over Dan to hold his hand, and he didn’t want Dan to have to reach over himself to do whatever it was he’d do to Gavin. God, was he left handed? Could he write– he couldn’t even remember anymore He should remember– Dan’s his best friend. He should know which hand was his dominant one, damn it.
He did let himself sit down, and scooted the chair up to the bed, as close as he could get without squishing his legs. He was still holding onto the dumb ass bear, but he really couldn’t make his hands let go of it. Jesus Christ. He should have said something by now, right? Fuck.
“ I didn’t sleep, but it wasn’t horrible. ” When was the last time he slept? Awhile ago. He at least knew that the last time he had good sleep since before the skype call. But that wasn’t for Dan to worry about. That was on Gavin. “ I’m sorry– I– flights and stuff. And work. Time. Yeah. ”
Dan’s smile faltered, the brief moment of normality washed as Gavin silently took his seat to his left side, not looking twice at his face. He rested his left hand on his lap and cast a sideways glance to the TV screen. He considered attempting to reach for the remote, but he wasn’t sure if he could do it and the last thing he wanted to do was unnerve Gavin further.
He inhaled for three counts and held, trying to conjour up an answer of any kind. Humour wasn’t really working here... He was trying his best. He couldn’t stand to be vulnerable and he couldn’t stand to be
“Yeah, no, I was just kidding, B,”
he offered, running his hand through his hair.
“I knew you’d come. It’s damn good to see you. Missed you lots, B.”
A beat. Hesitation in the form of inhalation, subconsciously gripping the sheets on his legs, trying not to notice how he didn’t feel much when he did so. Trying not to notice the guilt forming in his lungs, as they always did with a visitor who didn’t really want to be there. Not because of him, not because they didn’t want to see him, but they didn’t want to see his injuries.
He had never considered for a moment that he was less human because of his injuries, because of what had happened, but somehow, everyone else had made him feel such. That his injuries were too much for them. He had become too much for them. He feared loneliness would follow him through his return to humanity and society and he feared the world he left behind would not be the same as when he left.
It would be different somehow even if he, himself, never changed.
"Doc says, um, that I’ll be out in a few days or so. Nothin’ much else they can do for me. Just wanna make sure that I’m doing alright with... everything, and I’ll be set to go home.”
He spoke quietly, trying to be casual, but he felt himself falter. He wanted, for once, to be weak. He wanted to be vulnurable, to Gavin -- because Gavin wouldn’t judge or say or any of the kind. But he couldn’t bring himself to. If anytime was a time to show strength, it would be now. For Gavin. For their relationship.
“So you don’t hafta worry, B. Everythin’ll sort itself out. Thank you for coming ”
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