Chapter Text
The first thing that Grayson Hawthorne felt when he woke up was pain. It was searing and dull all at once, concentrated and still spread out through his body.
His eyelids felt heavy, and difficult to lift, like they were being held down and forced shut, but Grayson had never given up so easily on something his entire life, and wouldn’t start now.
It took longer than it should have, and he couldn’t figure out why. He should be in his bed, back at Hawthorne House after he spoke to the local FBLA group..
Grayson couldn’t remember speaking to the group. He could remember getting ready, grabbing his things and getting in the car, but the door clicked shut and his memories ended.
Light filtered in. He blinked, still taking a long time to do so, letting his eyes dilate.
His hearing came back slowly, the gentle beeping as a soft lullaby played through a speaker. He was in a hospital.
Grey eyes flicked around the room. He identified it as the Inpatient facility his grandmother had established for anyone to feel welcome during the AIDS crisis, he had visited here before. He hadn’t expected to be a patient at any point in his life.
His eyes seemed to be the only thing he had control of at the moment, flicking around processing the room. 5 chairs, a paper plate with a half eaten scone, a lot of paper cups and the lingering scent of coffee.
The logical conclusion to draw would be that his brothers, plus Avery and Oren had been here.
The last thing he drew his eyes upon was the figure at the foot of his bed. Ironic, considering how his right leg was raised in the air, covered in bandages. Concerning.
Less concerning was the ravennette asleep at the edge. His head was ontop of his crossed arms, laid down, asleep. Grayson would recognize Artemis’ profile anyway, even in a slowed state of mind.
His hair was down, a way he had never seen it before, but unwashed, like it had fallen out. Grayson wanted to run his fingers through it, and he was going to. He was in a hospital. He’d blame it on the drugs later, fed to him through the IV in his arm.
It was moreso the fact that he couldn’t move his hands, to the reason why he didn’t do it immeadiately. He knew they were there, and he could feel them, but they weren’t responding. Grayson would have frowned if not for the respirator covering his mouth.
But still he tried. He didn’t care how long it took, he was moving his damn hand. He got his fingers to twitch first, pointer giving a slight shake, before his wrist became complacent and twisted slightly.
The rest of his fingers followed naturally, and he forced his arm forward slightly, stiff and with a limited range of motion.
In the end, he only got far enough to grab a strand rolling it across his thumb and pointer slowly, not feeling capable of much more. It was soft, a piece hard like there was gel in it.
Grayson looked at the rest of Artemis. He had no idea why he was here. Why his family hadn’t kicked him out. According to them, he hated Artemis.
But Artemis was here. And Grayson liked that more than he should.
Artemis turned slightly in his sleep, face shifting forwards to Grayson, and he lost touch of the hair, but he could see Artemis’ face now, and it was worth it.
He looked like hell incarnate, sure, deep eyebags under his eyes, slightly smudged mascara that he wouldn’t admit he used making it look worse, hair falling into his face. He still wore a full suit, meaning he had rushed there. It was wet from rain.
Artemis Fowl the Second, the world’s biggest genii, hell-raiser and Grayson’s rival had presumably flown halfway across the world in a hurry to see Grayson. He had walked through rain without an umbrella, ruined his perfect hair and makeup, a suit that cost more than most peoples rent for Grayson.
He didn’t know if it was possible at the moment to blush, but it felt like he was.
The beeping on the monitor went up, and an alarm went off, and Grayson cursed himself mentally. Fucking heart rate, increasing rapidly.
People rushed into the room, startling Artemis who woke up wide eyed and suddenly, staring at Grayson with the blue eyes people online said stole your soul.
He was shoved away by a nurse and Jameson, who had seen him awake, and were worried about his blood pressure and heart rate.
They hooked his moving hand and finger up to another machine, taking a prick of blood despite having a fluid bag in him, looking at him like he was dying.
His heart rate had fucking spiked because he was in love with the man in front of him, hells be damned. Not because he was halfway to death.
Jameson gripped his hand with fear harder than he had in a long time, since before Emily.
“Grayson, are you alright? Can you hear me?”
Grayson tried to give him a look, but couldn’t, and he was sure with the tightness he felt on his face, he must have looked quite the sight.
Clearly Grayson was not alright. He was in a fucking hospital. Xander and Nash were there too, Avery stood with Artemis further back.
“Blink once for yes and twice for no, Gray.” Nash said slowly, like he wanted to make sure Grayson was interpretting it.
Grayson blinked once.
“How are you feeling?” Xander asked. Jameson hit him upside the head.
“That’s not a yes or no question, Xan.”
“Oh, right. Do you know where you are?”
Grayson blinked once.
The doctors receded, one pulling Nash away to talk to him. Avery pulled closer, but Artemis just watched, like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to.
Grayson tuned out Jameson and Xander and just stared at Artemis. He stared back.
Jameson paused, looking between the two of them.
He sighed.
“Xander and Aves really weren’t fucking joking.” He muttered, shoving a chair back at Artemis harshly, with more force than he probably should have. Artemis stepped to the side, avoiding impact, before pulling it back forward slowly, and tentatively.
Grayson continued staring, not awake enough to understand why he was here completely.
“Gray, did you hear what Xander was explaining before?” Avery asked slowly, and Grayson slowly turned his attention to her. He blinked twice.
“I’ll start over.” Xander said, voice soft and slow, unlike him. “Do you know what day it is?”
One blink.
“It’s Friday Morning.”
A day after he was supposed to meet with the group.
“Yesterday morning, at about 9:36 am, you were on an intersection in downtown Dallas when a drunk driver going almost 100 over in a sports car side-swiped you.”
Oh. That would explain it. Grayson had come to that logical conclusion, but it made more sense.
He wondered about Georges, his driver.
“You were transferred to the hospital at 9:43, since an on duty officer was nearby at the time. At 10:30 or so, you went through multiple emergency scans and surgeries.” He said even slower, to make sure he wasn’t shocking Grayson. He paused before he said the next bit. “Nobody else survived, Grayson.”
Guilt washed over him. Georges. He hadn’t deserved that.
“Alisa’s already pressing charges against the agency to whom the car was registered to. It made news yesterday, but we’ve been keeping your exact location a secret.” Avery explained. “Do you want Artemis to go over your injuries with you, or is it too much?”
“That’s not a yes or no, either!” Xander said, raising his voice slightly. Jameson hissed at him, and he backed down.
“Blink once if you want to, and twice if you don’t.” Avery spoke gently.
Grayson pondered.
He blinked once.
Xander nodded, like he expected this, and stood up.
“It might be easier to process with him alone. We’ll be right back. Don’t have a heart attack on us while we’re gone, okay Gray?”
Grayson blinked once.
Artemis scooted closer, still quietly. He picked up a noteboard at the end of the bed, scowling at it.
“Half of this is wrong.” He said, voice strained and tired, but with the smallest joking lilt to it.
Grayson said nothing. He couldn’t.
“I’m going to start from your head and work down, okay?” Artemis asked, and for once he waited for Grayson’s reply diligently. Grayson blinked once. “You have a blunt force concussion from the head rest on the back of your head and neck, which is easy enough to treat. You’ll need to take it easy for that.”
Grayson blinked once. He’d had concussions before. He’d falled out of treehouses, into ravines and ditches, banged his head on things just a bit too hard.
“A piece of glass presumably cut your head as well, on the top of your left ear. You’ve got stitches, the naturally disintegrating kind when it heals. Your hair will have to grow back naturally as well.” Grayson had never wanted to touch his hair so badly.
“A black eye, which will be fine much sooner than everything else. Airbag impact caused that.” He sounded Authoratitive, which was the only way Artemis ever sounded, and it was comforting. Grayson liked the sound of his voice. “A small cut on your lip, which might scar, but isn’t deep enough to require stitches.”
There was a loud pause, and Grayson assumed they were moving on to the leg. His torso felt fine, from what he could feel.
Artemis moved closer, locking eye contact with Grayson.
“Grayson. This next bit of information is the worst of it.” A pause, a flick of his eyes to his legs and back up to Grayson’s face. “What the doctors here think and what I think are two different things… and I want you to know that.”
A blink.
Artemis sighed, continuing.
“Your lower leg was fractured from impact four times, snapping a tendon.” Grayson could tell immeadiately that wasn’t good. “They’ve written down that you won’t be able to walk on your own ever again.”
Grayson’s head felt like ringing. What? There was no way. He couldn’t have to walk with help everywhere. He felt sick.
Artemis must have seen this because suddenly there was a hand on his, not reassuring, not like it was supposed to be, but grounding.
“Breath. That’s what the respirator is there for.” Grayson breathed.
“I told you a minute ago I don’t believe what they’ve said.” Artemis told him. “I’ve got a drug being made for you, to stimulate and create artifical muscle growth. It’s not going to be perfect… but if it works as it should you’ll likely be able to walk with minimal to no assistance after a lot of physical therapy.”
Grayson wanted to cry. He should have said no to Avery. He was overwhelmed.
He didn’t cry. Grayson didn’t cry.
Artemis’ hand stayed on his, close, and he leaned forward.
“You’re the most stubborn bastard I know, Grayson. If anyone can defy what some old guys with degrees just as outdated as they are, you can.”
It was almost motivational, coming from Artemis Fowl.
Grayson tried to smile. He failed.
Artemis gave him a lopsided smile in return, a lot of teeth with no actual grin, and it was stupid. It shouldn’t have been so endearing, but Grayson was half sure he fell a whole lot more in love with him then.
“I’ll go get your brothers. I’m sure you want to see them.”
He said, standing up and withdrawing his grip from Graysons. Grayson wanted to lunge out, and grab his warm hand again, but couldn’t move. Artemis just turned his lips up a bit, eyes hung low, bags looking even bigger.
Then the door clicked shut.
It felt like years before anyone came back in.
It was only Xander, and a nurse who was adjusting his IV and medicine levels.
“Nash and Jameson don’t want to overwhelm you right now.” He said, taking Artemis’ spot. “Don’t worry about your boyfriend, Avery and Nash won’t let Jameson ax-murder him.”
Grayson’s eyes blew wide.
Xander laughed, a raw and choked sound.
“I’ve known longer than you have, Gray. It’s fine. He flew halfway across the world in record time to be here, did you know that?”
Grayson blinked twice.
“I know you didn’t.” Xander rubbed his hand. “They’re upping your meds so you can get more sleep and hopefully get your eye looking back to normal.” Xander picked up the half eaten and probably stale scone. “We’ll all be here when you get back, Grayson. We love you. All of us.”
His brother was still there was his eyelids got too heavy to hold, and shut with dreams of black hair and blue eyes and reassuring words and the prospect of a lover.