In Every Universe

11

Bright found Win sitting under some dilapidated bus stop, drenched in so much rain it looked like he was just rescued from the ocean.

His relief at the sight of Win safe and sound is cut short by the realization that his eyes were closed and he was slumped sideways. He rushes towards him and once he was close enough, he could see unmistakable shivers passing through Win's body.

Dread overcomes Bright. He should have looked for him sooner. He should have known better than to let him walk away.

Images of Win sick and dying flash through Bright's memories and it almost makes him keel over.

He steadies himself.

Win needs him. Now was not the time for weakness.

Bright backs into Win and very gently gathers his soaking limbs around his neck and waist. It takes a moment for everything to be balanced but soon Bright was steadily walking back home with Win on his back.

- - -

His limbs were so cold but his forehead, neck and hands were burning hot.

He would not stop shivering no matter how many blankets Bright had piled on to him and no matter how many tablets of flu medicine he tried to make him swallow.

Bright was teetering on the edge of sanity. This was too much like the past timeline. Too much like all those nights of sick and convulsions. All those days spent in fluorescent hallways, shuffling from test to test. Too much like watching Win lose himself to disease all over again.

Bright needs to get his shit together. Win needs him right now, not a blubbering mess of a human. He tries his best to ignore his own pounding heart and hurting stomach- he instead keeps attending to Win. Making him soup. Wiping his sweat. Changing his shirt. Keeping a washcloth and ice pack at the ready.

It was the shivering he couldn't solve. He had done everything possible. Even put a jacket and wool socks on Win. But still his teeth chattered as he curled up pitifully on Bright's bed.

It is almost three in the morning and the fever has not broken. Bright is on his knees, letting tears of frustration finally fall. He wanted to demand The Benevolent to come down and fight him. He wanted to bash their heads in, tear their hearts out of their chests, flay their skins.

This was unfair. This was so fucking unfair.

All he wanted was for Win to have a good life. One good life. And here was fate fucking that up for both of them.

Was falling in love with a supposed sworn enemy really that big of a crime?

Wasn't it a good thing that the kingdoms could finally become one and have peace under united rulers?

Apparently not. Not if it doesn't serve the interests of those stupid deities.

He didn't realize how tight his fists were balled until his nails drew blood. And even then the pain wasn't enough for him to relax his grip.

"Water..."

Bright looks up. Sees Win trying to open his eyes.

"Water," Win croaks again weakly.

Bright is on his feet quick as lightning. He opens the bottle he had put on the bed stand. He lifts Win's head so he can take tiny sips.

Immediately after, Win closes his eyes again. He is still shivering. "Cold," he says.

Bright's voice cracks. "I know. I am sorry. I know. I will try to find another blanket, okay?" He looks around helplessly wondering if he had a hidden tablecloth somewhere that would do the trick.

But before he can set off he feels a tug on his finger.

He looks down at Win. "What do you need?"

"You," Win says. He looked half delirious with fever.

And Bright knew then there was no other choice than this.

There was really no other choice for him than Win.

He climbs into the bed and wraps Win in his arms. Tangles his legs with his. He holds on for dear life, willing all his warmth to transfer into Win's skin. He rubs the other's goose pimpled arms. His feet moves up and down Win's calves.

Perhaps this friction would work where no medicine or fabric had.

Bright kept at it. Ignoring the odds of him being successful at keeping Win's temperature steady.

He held him as close as he could, whispering over and over again that everything will be okay.

Bright can't pinpoint when exactly he fell asleep. But he can tell you it was after Win buried his face in his chest, breathing steady, skin finally a normal temperature and color. He remembers the wash of relief - his face on Win's hair and his eyelids closing on their own accord. Maybe sleep came seconds after that or a couple hours. It was hard to tell.

Even in sleep, he didn't let go.
He was no longer strong enough to let go.

Hours passed and the blankets were taken off one by one until only one remained. But their limbs remained intertwined, bodies still pressed together. Little snores escaped their mouths, mixing with morning bird song.

Morning bled into noon and they remained unmoving. Their store remained closed - not that anyone would notice.

It would be some time in the afternoon when Bright would stir. The first thing he thinks to do is check Win's temperature. He moves gently to get a towel and starts to lightly wipe away sweat from Win's lip, brow, and the base of his neck.

Win groans a little, sleep finally ebbing away.

"Let's remove your jacket?," Bright asks.

Win nods. And Bright slowly peels off the clothing. Win was still warm and would no doubt need more medicine. But he was much more stable now and would survive on pjs, socks and a blanket.

Bright tries to get up. He should find some food for them. And maybe buy more flu medicine.

But Win holds him arm.

Bright looks at Win.
Win looks back.

And perhaps in the light of day, desperation gone, it was harder to say the words.

But Bright could hear it in his heart.

I need you.
Stay.

Bright lies back down.
He gathers Win into his arms.

And he closes his eyes.

They fall asleep.