The fluorescent lights in the hospital buzz like they’re judging everyone.
His head is pounding, his ribs feel like they were rearranged by a construction crew, and there’s a bandage taped across his eyebrow. He groans, shifts, and hears someone else groan right back.
“…You have got to be fucking kidding me.”
Jimmy slowly turns his head, dreading what he'll see.
In the bed right next to his, separated by the world’s skimpiest privacy curtain that isn’t even fully closed, is Gary Smith. One arm in a sling. Lip split. Smug expression already loading.
“Oh good. You’re alive. I was worried I’d accidentally improved the school.”
Jimmy tries to sit up. Immediately regrets it. Falls back against the pillow with a hiss.
Gary notices. Smiles wider. “Aw. Does it hurt, Hopkins? That must be soooo difficult for you. Being temporarily fragile.” he teases.
“You’re in a sling, psycho.”
“Yes,” Gary says pleasantly, lifting his immobilized arm half an inch before wincing. “But I’m handling it with dignity.”
A nurse walks in before Jimmy can launch himself out of bed.
“No fighting,” she says without even looking up from the chart. “If I hear raised voices again, I’m separating you.”
Jimmy and Gary both scoff at the same time.
Monitors beep softly. Somewhere down the hall, a cart squeaks. Jimmy stares at the ceiling. Gary stares at Jimmy.
“You hit like a girl,” Gary says eventually.
Jimmy doesn’t look at him. “You scream like one.”
“You absolutely screamed.”
Gary shifts in his bed. “It was a tactical noise.”
Jimmy snorts before he can stop himself.
The air changes. Just slightly.
"Did you just laugh." Gary says quietly, like he’s discovered a rare species.
“No, no. That was a laugh. From you. At me.”
“It was at your dumb face.”
"Having fun looking at it?"
“You know,” Gary murmurs, voice softer now, “we did land here because neither of us knows when to stop.”
Jimmy rolls his eyes. “Don’t start with the psychology crap.”
Jimmy finally looks at him.
Gary’s smirk is still there, but it’s thinner. Tired. There’s a flicker in his eyes that isn’t scheming for once. Just… honest.
“You could’ve walked away,” Gary says.
Gary glances at the space between their beds. It’s barely two feet. If Jimmy stretched his arm out, he could probably reach him.
Jimmy shifts. His hand hangs off the side of his mattress.
“You’re thinking very loudly, Hopkins.”
“You are. It’s distracting me.”
Jimmy scowls but he doesn’t move his hand back.
Gary’s good hand twitches against his blanket.
The beeping monitor feels louder.
“This is stupid,” Jimmy mutters.
Gary sighs dramatically. “If I reach over and you punch me, I will haunt you.”
“You’re already haunting me.”
Slowly like he’s approaching a wild animal, Gary extends his good arm across the gap.
Gary’s fingers brush Jimmy’s knuckles.
It’s barely even a touch.
Just skin against skin. Warm. Real.
Jimmy’s breath catches. Gary goes very, very still.
Jimmy squeezes his eyes shut for half a second, then flips his hand over and grips Gary’s fingers properly, holding his hand.
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