It Couldn't Get Much Worse

sleep

Awsten doesn't think it could possibly get any worse until the day Geoff starts eliciting sounds to compensate for his pain. Sometimes they're quiet groans. Other times, he's had to scream in order to get through the moments. Awsten and Otto sit with him and hold his hands and let him do what he needs to. Some days are worse than others, but the treatments have stopped. They pulled Geoff from the trial list, so it's only a matter of weeks now. Maybe less.

It hits Awsten all at once how bad it is when he's on the couch watching TV with Geoff. Or rather, he's watching TV while Geoff sleeps on him. Geoff is cradled sideways across Awsten's chest, his eyes closed, his breathing slow. Awsten doesn't know when he started, but he's absently rocking Geoff slowly back and forth, self-soothing as much as he's trying to keep Geoff relaxed and asleep.

Awsten notices that Geoff's eyebrows have creased the way they do when he's in pain, and Awsten leans down to kiss his forehead. "It's okay," Awsten whispers.

"Aws?" Geoff rasps, eyes still shut.

"Yeah?"

"You - you have to stop."

"Stop what?"

"Moving," he says, and it's so quiet that Awsten almost doesn't hear it. "Stop. Please. Hurts."

He freezes immediately. "I'm hurting you?"

Geoff doesn't respond, already sinking back into sleep.

"I'm so sorry," Awsten breathes. He holds Geoff closer and closes his eyes. He's made a hundred deals with God - he'll start going to church if Geoff's blood work comes back improved, he'll believe in Jesus if only Geoff isn't sick anymore, he'll stop swearing and lying if Geoff lives until Christmas - but he makes another one.

I'll never ask for anything again, he prays, if you just take away his pain. I know you're going to take him from me anyway, you bastard, so just fucking take his pain away.

---

Awsten wakes that night to stifled sobs. He thinks it's Geoff fighting off pain again, but Geoff is sound asleep right beside him, which means - Otto.

Awsten pushes the covers back, slipping over to the bathroom. He knocks quietly, and the crying abruptly ceases.

"It's me," Awsten murmurs, resting his head against the doorjamb.

"Go away."

"Otto... Let me in."

There's a quiet sigh. "It's unlocked," Otto admits, voice wavering.

When Awsten walks in, he's met with the sight of a red-eyed Otto, who's clad in sweats and a t-shirt and sitting on the counter with his back pressed against the mirror and his legs drawn to his chest. He looks worse than he has in weeks. Maybe ever.

"Couldn't sleep?" Awsten assumes knowingly, shutting the door behind himself and going to stand in front of Otto.

"No, I did," Otto answers. His voice breaks, and he starts crying again. It was the wrong question to ask.

Awsten can physically feel his heart twinge in his chest as he listens to Otto's strength giving out. "Did you have a bad dream?" he asks softly. Otto usually never remembers his dreams at all, but it's the middle of the night, and he said he was asleep...

Otto shakes his head, visibly more upset. God, Awsten needs to fucking shut up. He's just making everything worse.

"No, I - I had a... a good dream..."

Oh. Oh. Awsten steps into Otto's space and rests a hand on his knee.

"He was okay," Otto explains, his voice high from the tears. "He was fine, and he looked great. Strong, you know? Healthy. And he told me he was better. He said he felt good and that we could pick you up and then go to Chipotle. Just like we used to."