The School health center was the one thing keeping Miles sane. Since the whole Fear The Walking Dead deal had started, the infirmary had been pretty much overrun with patients–too many to handle with its limited resources. So when they’d come looking for volunteers, Miles had been one of the worst to sign up. Since then, all of his time was spent moving from patient to patient, from the time he woke up to the time he fell asleep. The amount of focus it took kept him from absolutely losing it with all the anxiety and worry constantly building up inside of him.
He moved on to the next bed, greeting the patient with a full, enthusiastic grin. “So, what seems to be the problem?”
Miles barely kept a blush from spreading to his cheeks when he looked up from the clipboard, recognizing the face immediately. The guy had been in and out for a while now. And he couldn't say he minded. It was a nice break, playing along with something as familiar and non-lethal as flirtation.
"Mmm..." he hummed thoughtfully, biting down on his lip and moving a finger along the skin next to the cut as he pretended to examine it and not the body it blemished. "Not sure if Nurse Andrea has any kisses available, but I can definitely make sure she knows your preferred method of treatment. Any allergies we should know about?" He turned his head back down to the clipboard, a light smirk on his lips at the hard-to-get teasing. Finally, something entertaining.
The School health center was the one thing keeping Miles sane. Since the whole Fear The Walking Dead deal had started, the infirmary had been pretty much overrun with patients--too many to handle with its limited resources. So when they'd come looking for volunteers, Miles had been one of the worst to sign up. Since then, all of his time was spent moving from patient to patient, from the time he woke up to the time he fell asleep. The amount of focus it took kept him from absolutely losing it with all the anxiety and worry constantly building up inside of him.
He moved on to the next bed, greeting the patient with a full, enthusiastic grin. “So, what seems to be the problem?”
He opened his eyes again, feeling the sting of fresh tears and trying to hold them back, but failing miserably. “Parker, that’s...really gay,” He chuckled. “Can we move the wedding up? To right now? Seriously. I’m going to marry you right here. I can’t wait any longer. If I wait any longer I think I’l actually explode with impatience.”
“Really, though, what exactly are we going to do for our wedding night? I mean, I don’t think either of us have much purity to hand over, and there really isn’t much we haven’t tried. We’re breaking all the customs.” He laughed, the tears stopping, happy to just be able to talk again. “We could have a giant orgy with all the guests. That could be fun.”
“Don’t worry about my ring,” He assured, eyes closed as he smiled against the other’s lips. “You’re the only diamond I need.” He laughed at how incredibly cheesy that was, before sighing and placing his head back on the bed.
“You know I mean it though, right? When I say I love you. Because after I saw your name, I fell apart, and I need you to know that you mean the world to me. Literally. You were gone and...” Miles took a shaky breath, closing his eyes tight. “There was nothing, y’know? Nothing except this empty feeling and this terrible fear. And then I saw the votes, and it was all anger. I almost snapped again, Parker, just like I did with Aderyn, y’know? Except this time, the body count would’ve been a lot higher and a lot more deadly. CC and the panic in general were the only things that kept me from going on a fucking rampage. And I don’t know if that makes me a bad person, because, honestly, I’m still on the brink of slitting the throat of everyone who’s ever hurt you, but I need you to know that. You’re my world.”
“I love you,” He sighed into Parker’s neck, before finally pulling away long enough a drag a chair next to the bed and sitting down, his hand never breaking contact with the other’s.
He rested his blonde head on the bed, stroking his thumb over his fiance’s knuckles in the comforting way he always did. He felt so exhausted, only, now with Parker by his side, a bit more at ease. He felt, for the first time in days, as if he could actually fall asleep right there. Sure, maybe not have the most peaceful sleep, but still. At least he felt a bit safer.
After a few minutes, he pulled his hand away and reaching into his pocket, fishing around and pulling out a silver ring, small diamonds alternating black and white lining the bottom rim. It was one of the two they’d both picked. He gently placed it on his fiance’s finger, smile not leaving his face as he did.
“It came the day you...” He didn’t finish, deciding not to even mention his disappearance, not wanting to ruin the small peace he finally felt. “It was a bit of a splurge, but...It suits you.”
Miles couldn’t help but smile at his fiance’s excitement, immediately at his bedside and wrapping him in a hug. He didn’t let go for a full minute, only then pulling away to kiss him gently. He was so tired, still shaking, and he felt like he could pass out at any moment, but with Parker back in his arms, it didn’t matter. He could tackle the entire world.
“God, Parker, I...I thought I’d finally lost you.” He breathed into the other’s hair, barely concealing the way his voice wavered. “I lost it. I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t eat. I could hardly even get up from the floor. I always knew somewhere there was no way I could be lucky enough to actually have you without any type of catch. I thought...I saw you name and I thought that day had finally come when everything turned around and the entire just told me to go fuck myself, y’know? I can’t believe you’re here. You’re actually alive. You’re alive.”
a sob wracked his exhausted body with the last word and he cracked, tears spilling over from the corner of his eyes. “I was so scared. I don’t know what I would’ve done if...If you’d...”
Miles hadn’t eaten, hadn’t slept, hadn’t left the house since reading his fiance’s name on the hitlist. CC had been with him the majority of the time, but even she’d been fruitless in trying to convince him to do anything other than worry. It had taken hours in itself to just drag him up from his pile on the halfway floor, a day or two to calm him from a shaky mess to a slightly less shaky one. After shocks of his flashback kept hitting him, adding on to the paranoia. A slight sound made him flinch, his skin was constantly crawling with nerves.
The fact that it was Parker in the bed in front of him made him feel a little unsteady, as if he were stuck on a boat rocking wildly through the ocean. Yet, the second they’d found him, he’d rushed to the hospital, more aware an alert than he been in days at the idea of Parker just maybe being alive.
And now, here he was, gorgeous and broken and in the fucking bed. “At this point, the school needs its own floor,” He joked, trying his best to draw attention away from his swollen eyes and his shaking, shivering hands as he leaned into the doorway.
TW for flashback, panic attack, abuse, and the q-slur (used once)
Miles almost hadn’t even checked the hitlist. He’d been so wound up in wedding things (budgeting specifically, because, as much as Parker assured him it would be fine, he couldn’t help but obsess over how fucking expensive a bouquet of dead flowers was), he’d almost somehow forgotten. Besides, there wasn’t much to check for anyway, right? CC had stayed out of trouble, and, despite how fucked up everyone in this school was, Miles was actually beginning to have some hope that people wouldn’t kill off his fiance a few weeks before his own wedding.
So when he read the list, he almost missed the name of the poor person with 17 votes to his name. Almost.
Parker Fucking James.
If you could pinpoint one moment Miles completely fell apart, that would be it.
He dropped his phone to the ground, sinking to the floor against the wall and wrapping hi arms around himself as he felt himself shake. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go. He was going to finally be happy. He was going to prove his years of believing that he would always be the one cheering on, never getting his own happy ending, to be wrong.
But he had forgotten that it was true.
Find a solution. He tried to pull himself together, taking deep breaths and running his hands through his hair. This was what he did. He figured things out under pressure, he manipulated every situation until he could make enough sense of it to find a way out.
But he was too close. He couldn’t see it, couldn’t even begin to comprehend exactly what was going on, and with every passing second, he felt himself falling into more broken and jagged shards. The panic was completely wrapped around him, and he couldn’t help but appreciate it’s familiarity. How he wanted to let it knock him down, to put him out of this sick, twisted misery.
But he couldn’t. He was Miles Damon. Saving people was the only thing he was good at. If he couldn’t do this, what worth did he have?
He felt the panic and fear wrap tighter around him, suffocating and crushing his ribs into tiny pieces. He couldn’t breathe. Everything was spinning and yet eerily still. He gasped over and over for air, trying to find some way to fill his collapsing lungs. Fuck. His fiance was at the top of a fucking hitlist and all he could do was writhe around in self-pity? This was what had gotten him here in the first place. If he’d just stopped being so fucking selfish, left Parker with Emry, let it all go and move on, no one would have voted for him. He would’ve stayed out of the spotlight. But, no. He’d been a selfish prick as always and ruined everything, gotten the people he loved most hurt. What kind of hero was he playing? What kind of courageous, selfless knight did he make himself out to be? Any speck of goodness had been choked out of him years ago, and the words that he’d heard in a school therapy session ran through his mind; abuse cycles. He’d had no hope from the beginning, right? He was born to be an alcoholic, trauma-ridden dick. The was no other option. He could cover up the constant anger and rage all he wanted. It didn’t fucking matter. He couldn’t change who he was.
The blanket of panic had transformed into a rope binding around him, slowly twisting tight and tighter as he drifted between realities so fast the lines became blurred and he wasn’t fully aware of either. The pain of a fist mixed with the sting of his teeth biting cuts into his cheek, the warmth of blood on his face contrasted with the cold on the floor. He was thirteen and shoved against a wall, twenty-two and pushed down onto the ground. And the one that seemed to slowly become more and more real was not the latter.
Are you crying?
No.
Excuse me?
No, sir. I’m not.
Good. I’m not raising a coward who cries at a fuckin’ bruise. I’ve got your bitch of a mother for that.
Please...
The world faded away, but it snapped back with the feeling of a palm hitting the side of his cheek.
Don’t beg. I’m not going to have some wimp queer bred with my fuckin’ genes.
Yes, sir.
Stop crying.
I’m trying.
If you were trying you wouldn’t be dripping snot all over the rug. What the hell would your sisters think, Michael?
The name was spat out, though it still remained slurred and not quite clear.
Why don’t we bring them in here, boy? See what they think seeing their older brother sobbing like some pathetic piece of shit?
Don’t touch them!
I’d watch you mouth, son. I’ll touch whoever I want under my roof. Essie, get the girls.
He remembered the bruises that followed that night. He remembered locking his door so his sisters wouldn’t try to bandage him up themselves, only coming out to help them when he’d gathered his panic enough to not worry them. He remembered because it’s exactly what happened every time he fucked up and let his father drag his sisters down with him. He hadn’t protected them. He remembered Casey telling him only a few days ago about how scared she’d been without him, how the entire situation had fucked with her so badly. His father saying he was proud of him, and how happy it had made him. What kind of person did that make him? To find joy in the approval of a monster?
He found himself hours later, sweating and sobbing onto the floor. He tried to go over the things he knew would draw him out. Name. Age. Location. Year. Month. But it was pointless. There was nothing to pull himself back to. Parker was gone. Because of him. Because he’d failed him. Because he failed everyone.
I do not use the word home lightly.
So when I sigh it into the crook of your neck,
Believe that your spine is a timber frame,
Your kiss a welcome mat,
And your enveloping arms my front door
Miles had never been so aware of exactly how much time had passed. He’d been outside the door to his father’s room for twenty-seven minutes exactly, at first frozen in place, before transitioning into wild pacing, and finally sitting against the wall, head between his knees. He felt sick. He felt like he couldn’t breathe. He felt the anxiety edging up on his mind that usually came before a flashback, only ten times worse and twenty times more ominous. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t do this.
“I can’t do this,” He whispered, half to himself and half to Parker. He looked up at him, though it took a lot of energy to actually focus on him instead of letting his eye glaze into a pit of worry. “I can’t see him. I can’t see them. Not after what I did. Oh, God, Parker, he’s right through that fucking door, and I can’t...” His breaths quickened, and he ducked his head back into his knees, reciting an old prayer over and over again to try and calm himself down.
“You are such a sap,” He teased, reaching out to wrap his arms around Parker’s neck and lay several kisses on his cheeks, nose, and lips. “I love you,” He muttered in between pecks, “I can’t believe in a few days I’ll get to see you at the altar. I’m the luckiest man alive.”
He laughed, his head laying back on the other’s chest, his arms moving to play with his hair. “I’ll always be there, y’know. And you’ll always be there, too. That’s just how we work. No matter what, as long as we’re together, we can take anything, y’know?”
He sighed, muzzling his head against him, closing his eyes and breathing in the familiar scent. “It’s getting late, and you’re exhausted. We should head off.”
Miles was built to analyze people, constantly on the lookout as at ease as he seemed. He definitely noticed the doubt on her face, quickly covered by a smile. He wasn’t surprised. He’d expected it. They’d only been officially dating for a week, of course, though he knew that, in reality, they’d been together in one way or another since the night at the club. They knew each other inside and out, and that was what really mattered, right? Having someone you could share you darkest shadows with?
“Yeah. He’s...I don’t know. He’s Parker, y’know? I just...” He paused, not quite knowing what else to say. It was weird. The two used to be able to talk about anything, but now the air that surrounded them was less warm and more awkward, broken.
“I know I haven’t been the best friend since all this bullshit started. Actually, I haven’t been a friend, period. You deserve better than how I’ve treated you, and I’m sorry about that.”
Miles felt his heart drop again when Parker’s tone turned sadder, and he scrambled for something to say. For someone so good with words, they never seemed to find him with Parker. It was equally unnerving and comforting, not even having the ability to plan out a full conversation.
“‘Cause he’s a coward who couldn’t face exactly how terrible he was. He knew you’d leave him if you knew. He was too cared to deal with the consequences of his actions.” He explained, moving to kiss his neck, hoping to comfort him. After a few seconds, he moved his hands to his fiance’s stomach, smirking as his gentleness became playful as he tickled him, eventually ending up straddling his chest.
“Hey,” He laughed, leaning down to kiss Parker’s nose, laying his head down on his chest. His southern accent peaked through his words, and yet, he didn’t even care. “There’s nothing you could ever do that would make me leave you. You know that, right? You could burn down the entire world and I’d still love you. You ain’t fucking this one up, honey, no matter how hard you try.”
